#but if I don’t do this there’ll be tension between us

[herawell]

.

[starlessea]

Hii! Could you plz write a fic where the reader finds out that Daryl's ticklish and a tickle fight break outs between them?

You obviously don't have to if you don't want to! :))

Boots And All

Drabble: Based on this ask. I strayed a little but hopefully it scratches the itch (no pun intended).​

Masterlist

It had taken some time for Daryl to become comfortable around you.

Sure, the two of you had been a thing for some time—sneaking off here and there, swapping shirts for purpled neck bruises.

But those were fleetings moments; there was no real comfort in them. They consisted of rushed encounters, usually when the tension had become so unbearable that the pair of you were at each other’s throats. 

Things were different now. Alexandria had given you the space to slow down. And slowness was something Daryl wasn’t accustomed to. He couldn’t get used to the porch-watching, the grass-mowing, and the domesticity of it all. 

Especially now, as he found himself at the entryway of the shared house, struggling to find the words to say to you.

‘I’m home’ didn’t sound right; neither did ‘I’m back.’

You hadn’t been waiting for him after all—or had you?

Daryl stood dumbfounded. He'd never had trouble with this stuff before, but this suburbanite hellscape had him guessing his every move. What if you didn’t want him anymore?

He shook his head. Footsteps echoed across the hall, and not wanting to get caught mid-agonising, Daryl tried to busy himself.

"Dixon," you greeted, before a furrow pinched your brow. "Boots."

Daryl’s eyes followed your pointed finger, landing on the trail of mud he'd dragged over the ornate welcome mat.

"Damnit, woman," he cursed. "Been gone all day an' tha's all I get—boots?"

“Boots,” you confirmed, and disappeared back into the living room.

Daryl grumbled before sinking to his knees to undo his laces. Here he was wracking his brain for the perfect greeting and you’d settled on fucking boots.

It could be worse, he thought. At least that meant you wanted him to stay.

The fire crackled low as Daryl trudged into the living room. You were slumped down on the couch, legs tucked under you with one arm draped lazily over the backrest. Your attention was on a book he knew you'd already finished.

Daryl deliberated for a moment dropping into the space nearby. He kicked his legs up onto the stool before him, watching the way your eyes flickered over before returning to your page.

There was a tension in the air—subtle but persistent. He wondered if this was as strange and new to you as it was him. Perhaps you didn’t like him all that much now there were other options. He scowled, and tried to put the thought away from him.

“So…” you began after a moment, setting the book down onto the table. “How was it? Find anything good?”

Your voice was softer now, and Daryl felt himself relax slightly. “Nah,” he muttered. “Same ol’ shit. Few walkers—not much else.”

You shifted, and as you did, your hand brushed against his foot. A jolt sparked through his body; he kicked his leg out instinctively.

“Jesus, Daryl," you yelped. "What was that for?”

Daryl opened his mouth to retort, but as he did, you readjusted once more, grazing the base of his foot with your fingers.

He immediately recoiled. “I swear to sweet shit, do that again an’ there’ll be hell.”

A look of realization flashed across your face—and god, did Daryl hate it.

“Are you…” you paused, the disbelief in your voice too great to conceal, “ticklish?”

Daryl groaned. He suddenly felt five-years-old again, wishing he could keep a straight face.

His lack of reply spurred you into action. “You can’t be,” you announced, goadingly. Daryl felt his muscles grow taut, preparing for the worst. As much as he wanted to escape, part of him missed this—missed that look in your eyes when they weren’t clouded by worry and expectation. “Everywhere?”

“Don’t ya dare,” he warned, though it lacked any real bite.

You grinned before edging closer, until you were sat straddling his lap. Daryl stiffened. His hands hovered above your hips, not quite confident to let them rest there.

“All the times I’ve touched you here,” you murmured, tracing a line up his chest, “or kissed you here”—your breath brushed against his ear, and he shivered despite himself—“did it tickle you?”

Daryl swatted your hand. “Yer fuckin’ ridiculous,” he growled.

You couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your lips. It chipped away at Daryl's defences, leaving him even more exposed.

"And how about here?"

You tested a light prod at the ribs, to which he bucked beneath you, trying to unseat you.

“Fucking—cut it out,” he snapped.

And again, that smile of yours tugged at something deep within him.

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, raising your hands in surrender. “I’ve had my fun.”

He was about to bite something back, but the words caught in his throat. Your hair was splayed, catching the light of the fire as it framed your face, and on it, your expression was one of pure warmth. For a moment, all Daryl could do was stare. How many days had it been—weeks even—since he’d seen you like this?

You were so beautiful.

“I missed ya,” he admitted. The words came out of their own accord, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to get back to ya.”

His hands found your hips, and his thumb began tracing circles there.

"If you'll have me an' my muddy boots."

Your expression softened, and as you leaned down, Daryl left himself completely open.

You kissed him; it was unlike any of the others you shared before. It wasn't urgent, nor desperate—like the ones brought about by fear of getting caught.

You took your time with him, since there was enough now to spare.

“I missed you too, Dixon,” you murmured against his lips. “And I'll gladly take you, boots and all.”

A/N Sup... It's been about 2-3 years but I want to confirm that I'm alive. To be honest, I still read every comment I get and I can't believe people still love my work. I started this page when I was a wee 19-20 year old student, and now I'm 24, have bought a house, a dog, and am heading a company (crazy, I know). That said, I wish I could go back to the days I would write and write and write. Unfortunately, I just don't have the time (and I'm a lot slower now due to the mental block I developed from aiming for perfection)... Though, my wish for 2025 is to devote a little time back to my hobby - no matter how small, nor how long it takes me. To anyone still here, firstly holy shit go touch some grass (just kidding), but truly thanks for sticking with me. If you want to reach out, I'd love to rebuild some bridges and hear your suggestions! P.S I know it's been a hot minute so if you want to be added / removed from my tag list, please let me know x

Tag List In Comments

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 3

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~1.4k words

Read Part 1 and Part 2

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, tension!!, office crushes, office romance, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thank you all for reading! I’m having so much fun writing this. MC is so shy, and Jeonghan is so direct! My favorite dynamic!! Also, Jiyeon and Daein are completely fictional/not based on any idols! Jiyeon is kind of a stock mean-girl character, sorry! I’m looking forward to writing steamier interactions between Jeonghan and MC soon! <3

Taglist: @yeoberryx (lmk if you want to be added to my taglist!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Y/N-shi.” One of the producers in the room said your name, bringing you out of your daydreaming.

You were in a scheduling meeting to arrange staff for several of the members’ upcoming overseas commitments. You were hopeful that you’d get to travel, though you doubted it. You weren’t exactly experienced, but you did have the fluent-in-English thing going for you. You’d mentioned that you could get by with pretty decent French and Italian, too. So, of course, you were imagining a... business trip with Jeonghan...

“Yes!” you said quickly.

“How do you feel about traveling?”

“Traveling where?”

“Paris.”

“I feel good about it!” You answered politely—and super eagerly, eliciting some chuckles from the room.

“She’s so cute,” Daein said. You and Daein had gotten to know each other better, and when she wasn’t around Jiyeon she was much nicer to you. Still, you felt embarrassed for being overly eager.

“We wanted someone who could speak English and French well,” the producer added, “It’s Fashion Week.”

“Who’s attending this year?” someone asked.

“Mingyu-shi, Jun-shi, Joshua-shi,” another producer at the other end of the room looked through her list, “and Jeonghan-shi.”

You felt your face start to flush immediately.

“Mingyu-shi, Joshua-shi, and Jeonghan-shi will be booked on the same flight,” someone said, your heart pounding harder each time his name was mentioned, “Jun-shi will fly separately, directly from China.”

As the staff continued to fill you in on details... where you’d meet, what time you needed to be there, what to expect from CARATs gathered at the airport...

“The talent will have their own security,” another staff member assured you, ��There’ll be a separate security check for us—to get to the gate faster. Most of the fans are perfectly respectful, but don’t hesitate to alert security if anything rings alarms or makes you uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” you replied politely. “I’ll do my best.”

It had only taken a couple of months working with SEVENTEEN to really hit home that being famous was actually quite difficult. Everywhere they went, their fans seemed to be waiting. Even shoot locations that you knew weren’t made public—a few of them would show up no matter what. The members seemed to handle it graciously. At least, more graciously than you would have been in their position. Some of the fans were pretty intense, and didn’t seem to respect the members’ privacy. But it was a very small number. You’d only seen or heard any of the members get slightly annoyed at most, and only a handful of times.

But if Mingyu was on your flight, you knew the airport was going to be chaotic. He was very popular. And you understood why. He was extremely tall, gorgeous, not to mention very personable. He was easy to talk to, even though you were slightly intimidated at first. He enjoyed speaking English with you, which was nice.

“Y/N-shi,” the head coordinator was assigning details to each member, “you’ll be with Jeonghan-shi.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll be on his team of staff—each member will have their manager with them, two other staff for extra footage or vlog shooting, and their own security. You’ll be with Jeonghan-ah’s crew. Understood?”

“Yes!”

...What the hell? Was this really happening? Had you performed some saintly act in a past life? Why were you being bestowed with this kind of luck!?

“Great, we’ll send a car to pick you up at 4:00 AM that Thursday,” the coordinator in charge continued, “be sure you have your passport and at least two cocktail dresses—you’ll be attending the Yves Saint Laurent opening event on Friday, plus the runway show and afterparty on Saturday, so you’ll need appropriate attire. We can offer you a stipend to rent something when you get there if you don’t have anything.”

“Thank you!” and you bowed deeply. The other staff in the room chuckled.

“We’re counting on you,” the coordinator smiled at you.

-

The weeks seemed to drag on. You were so anxious and excited about the trip to Paris that you could hardly concentrate on anything else. You carried out your tasks with your usual efficiency, but your colleagues could tell you were just excited about getting to go to Fashion Week.

“I can’t understand why someone with such poor taste is going on this trip,” Jiyeon sneered as you were packing up equipment in the practice room. The members were gathering their things, sweaty from filming a dance practice video. Some of them were off in various corners doing other TikTok challenges. You were amazed at how quickly they could pick up choreography. You’d worked in entertainment for a long time, but it never stopped amazing you how fast good dancers were at that kind of thing. You hardly took notice of Jiyeon’s tone; you were so busy fantasizing about getting to spend so much time with Jeonghan.

“Hey!” she raised her voice just enough to get your attention, but not so much that it registered with the other staff or the members. You turned to her, trying to focus on whatever it is she needed to say, but still unable to contain your giddiness.

“Ugh,” she said, giving you a disgusted look, “don’t let Jeonghan-shi see you being so weird about this.”

“I don’t think she’s being weird.”

There he was, standing right behind Jiyeon. How had he gotten over here? Were you seriously so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even seen him walk over to where you and Jiyeon were packing up?

Jiyeon looked like she was about to pass out, and you froze on the spot. Jeonghan was looking right at you, as always. His gaze never wavered when he was looking at you. You always loved it, even though it flustered you, but right now you were so ecstatic that he’d overheard her that it felt like you were floating above the ground.

“Ah! Jeonghan-shi!” Jiyeon put on her best smile, laughing off his remark. “Y/N-shi is always a little weird, we were just joking! Right, Y/N-shi?” You noted that it was the first time she’d bothered using honorifics with you. You didn’t really care, since honorifics weren’t really a thing at the companies you’d worked for in the past, and just not a huge deal in the U.S. at all. But you knew that her dropping them was technically a slight toward you.

“Right,” you said, putting on your best polite smile. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Jiyeon was rude, but she wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Also, maybe you were being too weird about this trip. It was purely business... you were probably getting a little carried away. You couldn’t help but look down, worried now that you would creep him out.

“I’d never want to work with someone who wasn’t at least as weird as nuna,” Jeonghan said straightforwardly.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Ah, that’s Jeonghan-shi for you!” Jiyeon let out a strained laugh and went back to helping move the equipment, being sure to send you a pointed glare on her way toward the door.

You were left standing there with Jeonghan. You paused, and then bowed toward him.

“Thank you for saying that,” you said in the most formal voice possible. You were so flustered; you didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing after this?” he asked. His voice was low and direct. 

“What?”

“Are you free right now?”

“...What?”

“I thought your Korean was supposed to be good, nuna.”

You stared at him. He was smiling softly. His gaze was gentle, but there was something mischievous in it. You felt as if your brain had force quit on you.

“Sorry, I... I don’t...” you were lost for words.

“Well, if you’re free after this, Joshua, Dino, and I are going to get some dinner,” he said, running a hand through his long hair. You imagined what it would feel like to run your own hand through it. While peeking up to look at his hair up close—a thing you rarely did, even though you’d had plenty of opportunities by now—your eyes met for a second, and for some reason you steeled yourself and held his gaze.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes.” You said it without thinking, but the smile on his face nearly knocked you out.

“Good.”

[dollwrites]

𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 — 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁��𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!cadet!reader, masturbation ( him ), handjob, oral sex, facial, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ originally posted on 10.11.2022 do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ fingertips by kita klane

you weren’t supposed to see this.

just turn around, go back to bed, and pretend you didn’t see your captain touching himself.

the words kept repeating themselves in your mind, over and over, but your legs refused to move— your feet refused to carry you away from the cracked door you hid behind, and your eyes refused to look away.

if he catches you watching him, there’ll be hell to pay. but even that, the probability of your notoriously calloused captain doling out a punishment so wicked that you would rather be eaten by a titan, was not enough to spur you to stop watching when Levi moaned. thin brows knit tight together, he was leaned against the wall, his uniform trousers shoved down around his thighs, the hem of his shirt bunched up and clenched in his teeth, and even in the pale moonlight, you can make out each and every pad of strong muscle underneath his ivory skin as it contracts when he breathes, or when his hips jut forward to meet his furious pumping. his eyes are closed, but his countenance isn’t soft— it’s contorted in pleasure, and there’s a rosy tint to his cheeks. “Fuck.” he hisses against his teeth, and your face is aflame.

he must have thought that he was the only one awake.

clenching your thighs in a feeble attempt to ease the tension building in your lower half, your eyes are wide and unblinking. they scour every inch of him as if he were placed on display just for you. his fist gliding up and down, kissing his base briefly only to careen upwards and massage the swollen tip. he’s thicker than you expected, nested in a bed of thick, dark hair and etched in bulging veins. you drink in the visage— every throbbing inch, up to the reddened, plump head. he was gorgeous. sinfully so.

your own fingertips gripped the door when his thumb ran over his slit and his head dropped back against the wall with a snort of air through his flared nostrils. you had to wonder if he was always so rough with himself, fucking his own hand at a velocity that made you dizzy ( and incredibly jealous of his palm ). the brutal self treatment seemingly stemmed from a habit of needing to finish quick, and you could imagine he’s very rarely able to savor it. you’re suddenly longing to give him all the slow, skillful worship he deserves, with your tongue sliding over your lower lip, you imagine the way he might taste upon it, and your core soaks through.

another muffled groan, and this time your fingers twitch— wanting desperately to delve into your panties and tease yourself to his rapid pace. it was so, so wrong. you knew that, but you rub your thighs together to ease the nerves between them and bite down hard on your lip.

he was driving you mad without even touching you.

you could watch his hips work, rocking to a quick, consistent rhythm, fucking his fist, all night long. if only you hadn’t forgotten you were leaning against an old, wooden door, that moaned when you pressed yourself into it harder to get a closer look, and his eyes opened, sharp, and cut to the doorway.

you were made before you even fully registered that you’d given yourself away.

“Spying on me, cadet?” he asks, his voice still thick with lust. you hadn’t even noticed his shirt was no longer gripped between his lips, but hanging in a wrinkled slump against his solid abdomen.

“No!” you answered, maybe a bit too quickly, stumbling against the door, but you grip it tight, hoping to use it as a barrier between you and a very angry Levi. “I mean… I mean no, sir, captain.. Levi… sir…”

his expression doesn’t change. “Don’t lie to me again.” he warns, “Were you watching me?”

your cheeks were on fire, and you so desperately wanted to look away, but Levi hadn’t bothered to pull his pants back into place, or even cover his manhood. instead, he kept his grip at the base. you nod, bashful, and stutter, “I’m so— so sorry, I knew I shouldn’t have, and I didn’t mean to, I just heard something so I came to make sure you were ok—“

“Did you like it?”

your mouth hangs open, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. surely, you hadn’t. surely, he hadn’t asked that. “W—what?”

your eyes were glued to his cock, and you watched his thumb slowly, gingerly caress a pesky vein near the head.

“Watching me.” he elaborated, his countenance expressionless, eyes as cold as ever, but they were glaring right through you. expecting an answer. “Did you like it?”

“I…” you’re hopelessly distracted by the gentle stroke of his thumb, and the way he twitched with each swipe. “Y—yes, sir…” it was hardly a whisper, but you were much too humiliated to speak any louder. finally, you force your gaze to avert, and you stare at your bare feet and shaking knees. “I’m so sorry, I won’t… I never meant to—“

“Are you going to stand all the way over there while I finish or are you going to get in here and help me with this?” he was asking through his teeth, teasing the sensitive head with his thumb like you’d watched him do only moments before, and your stomach did a cartwheel— knots bundling up within your gut. your eyes flicker upwards, nervous to see if he was just testing you, but he was leaned back again, shoulders resting against the wall, and his fist curled tight around his base and dragged upwards, stroking himself hard and slow. when he sees the perplexity plastered on your features, he answers for you. “Come in and close the door.”

it was almost impressive how swiftly your feet carried you into the room, and you push yourself back against the door until you heard a low whine and a solid thunk, but you were still just staring, wide eyed, at the scene before you. this was a dream. it had to be.

“Come over here.” he murmurs, sucking in a breath. his lids looked heavier than normal, his pupils blown out so his slate gems appeared abysmal. you do as instructed, and stop just a few inches in front of him. you open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it. “On your knees for me.”

“Yes sir.” if you would’ve dropped any faster, you might’ve hurt yourself. your knees find the hard, dirty floor and plant themselves against it. you stare up at him, your view of his face obstructed by his cock standing at attention, demanding to be taken care of. you’re completely entranced by it, both hands coming up, more than willing to take over for his, and he lets you, eliciting a soft sigh when you wrap them around his base.

you stroke slow at first, both fists working at the same pace in opposite directions over the slick, pulsating muscle. and you wanted to watch his face because you could hear him huffing and puffing like a starved animal, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the cock in your hands. you could feel it throbbing under your fingertips, you could see the tip leaking precum in lazy dribbles, and when you gave the swollen tip special attention with teasing, butterfly strokes with your digit tips, he jerked and squirmed. “Like this, captain?” you ask, but your eyes never leave his sex, your tongue flicking impatiently at the seal of your lips. you kept leaning closer, inhaling the rawest scent of him, and with each intake of his smell, you grew more and more tempted to gather the warm pre cum with your tongue just to know what it tasted like.

Levi’s jaw was practically sewn together, grinding, and he stares down the length of his torso at you. “Just like that.” he moaned in approval, and your pace picked up, boasting an inflated ego. you could tell by the way he twitched and squirmed that he was right on the edge. “Fuck, just like that.” you thought about asking him how often he did this, had his underlings get him off, but you could tell this wasn’t the usual. if he had been in this position at all before now, it would’ve shocked you. Levi Ackerman was a man that took care of himself, and you knew that by how sensitive he was to your touch— he wasn’t accustomed to anyone else.

but he caught you staring; he must’ve seen the hungry look in your eyes, or the way you licked your lips, because he shifted, one hand dropping to hold your chin, urging you to meet his hazy gaze. “You want to suck it, don’t you?” he asked, and the husk in his baritone struck straight to your core. there was a very obvious damp patch in your panties, threatening to soak through your trousers, but even your quivering cunt was not enough of a distraction to take one ounce of concentration from pleasing your superior.

you nod, practically pleading with a puppy dog pout alone. “Can I… please, sir? Please let me suck your cock. I need to taste you.”

you could watch how his muscles tightened, teeth grinding when you begged. a hardly audible groan dies on his tongue, and his thumb eases between the seal of your couplet and urges it open, before he nods. “Open up, cadet.” you do as instructed, allowing his calloused fingers to prod inside your mouth and test your gag reflex, whilst you put both arms behind your back. your tongue hangs out of your mouth, dribbling saliva, but it isn’t long before his thumb and forefinger, now wet, grip your jaw to line himself up with your mouth.

the very moment his cock touched your tastebuds, your eyelids flutter in content— Levi’s taste was so damn addictive. with a slow rock of his hips, he nests in your cavern, and the first couple of inches glide in easily. your lips stretch around his thickness, and you moan. you’d never felt such carnal pleasure simply from sucking cock before now.

“Huh…” it’s a stuttered, raspy moan you never thought you’d ever hear from Humanity’s Strongest, and your eyes widen, staring up at him. “That’s it,” he hisses, falling into a steady rhythm that you were all too eager to lean into and meet. “‘S good…” bobbing your head to welcome as much as him as you could take without gagging, you wiggle the tongue pinned to the floor of your mouth against his most prominent vein, and you watch his head drop back again as he grunts in ecstasy. his hands blindly find the top of your head, and both rest there, guiding you into his quick tempo.

Levi’s pace was a difficult one to keep up with, and you found yourself whimpering and clucking every time his broad tip battered the back of your throat, but you noticed that he never once pushed you down— never forced you to take more than what you were willing to, and his hold was gentle enough that you felt like you could pull away if you needed to.

but you wouldn’t dare.

not until you were satiated.

when his cock twitched against your tongue, and he hummed, “I’m ready,” it was breathless and needy, but he was petting the top of your head, pumping himself into your mouth, “how do you want it?”

reluctantly, you lean back, letting his cock slip from your swollen lips with a vulgar pop, but your hands are back on him in a fraction of a second, pumping fervently, and you lean close, swirling your tongue around the tip as you pant, and look up at him, “Cum on my face, captain.” you urge, squeezing him. he moans, hips stuttering, “Paint me… Claim me—“

Levi grabs your face again, whilst the other grips himself at the base and he comes apart, letting you milk the orgasm out of him until streamers of his release hit your chin first, then your lips, and your cheeks. you squint to avoid getting any in your eyes, but you’re smiling, elated to be given exactly what you asked for, and your tongue scoops some of the warmth from your lips and draws it into your mouth. you moan in utter delight, and only let go of him when he pries your hands off and steps back, breathing ragged, but you can’t be too upset, you’re savoring all he’s given you.

“Thank you, captain.” you purr, sitting back on your calves. your knees were much too weak to try and stand up right now and you knew that. “Should I—“

“Get cleaned up and get some rest, cadet.” Levi said, and you were amazed at how steady his voice was; his breathing had already evened out. “We only have a few hours left before we have to move out.”

you pout, mildly disappointed, but nibble on your lip, and wait until he looks back at you with an arched brow.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I can’t sleep in here with you?”

his expression changed, for a split second Levi Ackerman looked surprised, then he scoffed. “Cute, but no.” you’re forcing yourself to your feet, using your finger to guide the rest of his essence into your mouth, and he’s watching, dressing himself, before he looks away and mutters, “But… maybe you can sneak away from the squad every now and then.” he could see your eyes light up even in the dim glow of the dusky room, and he added quick. “Don’t make it a habit.”

you beamed as you skipped over to the door, determined to do the exact opposite.

[jadehaven]

A summary of the thoughts as I slowly realized that #Elrondriel would indeed become a thing in the show:

(for context, ROP was my first introduction to LOTR, so this was my perspective as a viewer with no concept of the lore)

Season 1:

Who is this guy? Is he her friend? More? Oh she touched his face, maybe it’s like, unrequited? Am confused.

Is this how elves flirt? What’s the history here? Oh well, she’s leaving anyway.

*Enter Halbrand* HOT DIGGITY DAWG now THATS what I call a love interest 😏😏😏

*Eating up all the enemies to lovers tropes and swooning over Halbrand*

*Elrond and Galadriel scenes* Me: Nah get this nice guy OUTTA HERE where is HOT HALBRAND? (future me is aghast that I would overlook the literal loml Elrond, Gal and I are the same ig)

Halbrand: *Is Sauron* Me: What!?? Nooo! No no no no no this can’t be happening oh noooo

*Elrond saves Galadriel*

Me: Wait

*Forehead touch, tears, deep breaths*

Me: Waaaiiittt

*Gasps* Omg. Of course, he loves her!! They’re going to fall in love! It’s perfect contrast to the enemies to lovers story— a *slow burn, best friends, it’s always been you* kind of love? Right? RIGHT!? That makes so much sense! I’m 1000% calling it for Season 2.

*Sometime between season 1 and season 2, discovers the heartbreaking truth* LOL what?? She’s his WHAT??! 😭😭😭

*Still holding out hope, clutching my suspicions like they’re my grandmas pearls*

Season 2:

Holy sheet he’s mad. Ofc he’s mad. But he’s her best friend :c?? Pls don’t make me sad like this, you’re supposed to love each other!

“You were my friend!!” Mhm yknow they tend to use this word a lot

That’s… that’s a lot of hand holding there…

omg she put her hand on his CHEST OMGSJHDHFBF

“It was entirely of your choosing, the lost king blah blah” Ok but this is literally him saying he knows her type?

Hollldd up, I see what’s happening. Tension. There’s negative tension. I’ll bet if they stick to the trope, there’ll be a *moment* between them at the end that breaks the tension. There has to be.

*Galadriel gets caught by the Barrow-Wights* Wait for it babe, Elronds going to rescue her oh— yep, there he is. Saving her again. Because he’s the love interest.

“Promise you will put defeating Sauron over saving my life” Pfft hahaha miss Galady, our boy has it bad, there’s no way he’ll stay true to that promise. (For real though this sentence just showed us what the most important thing in the world is to him, it’s her y’all)

*Galadriel gets captured and brought out to the battle field* Ooooh yup. Look at his FACE when he sees her, the slow mo and everything wow. That’s his whole life right there. He can’t sacrifice her, he can’t do it.

Dang he’s gonna do it???

“Let me bid her farewell” Omg please kiss her goodbye haha but no they wouldn—

0/////o!!???

O/////O!!!!!!!

I CALLED IT I FKING CALLED IT ARE YOU KIDDING ME I AM SCREAMING

THIS IS THE MOMENT THAT BROKE THE TENSION.

Everyone online: iT wASNt RoManTIC

😐

Sigh. Of course it “wasn’t romantic”. THATS THE WHOLE POINT. That’s how this whole “forced to kiss” trope works. They don’t have feelings for each other yet, that they’re aware of anyway. It’s supposed to be an awakening. This is only the beginning.

*Continues to get gaslit by everyone and their mother including the actors and writers themselves*

Ok ok fine. Maybe I’m delusional about the whole thing. But every scene so far has been classic romantic arc set up. If they have a scene next episode where Elrond saves Galadriel again and maybe like, puts the ring on her finger all proposal style, then I’ll know. That would seal it for me.

*Episode 8*

*Speechless*

LITERALLY SPEECHLESS.

That’s it yall. If you didn’t pick up on that, then I’ll see you next season for all the slow burn tropes. I can see them already. LFG. #Elrondriel for life.

[pastelpinkkadan]

My theories/predictions of what will happen in Elain’s/Elriel’s book:

Whether for the Dead Troves (the harp, specifically) or for Vassa, Elain and Azriel will leave the Night Court and go to the Fae Realms on the Continent .

I do believe Lucien will go as well. This will set up tons of tension between Elain, Azriel, and Lucien.

Elain and Azriel will have many moments of nearly kissing or getting too close, but trying not too since Lucien is with them. Eventually they won’t be able to resist each other and will be intimate, but I don’t foresee this book being as horny as ACOSF was. Like they’ll for SURE have sexy times, but not where it’s half the book.

Elain will be working on her spying abilities, and will use them in some way while they’re investigating the Troves and/or Koschei. Like sneaking into courts, getting information, spying on certain important people or the human Queens. She’ll be honing her abilities with the Spymaster, obvi.

Elain’s seer abilities will lead them to the Troves or whatever is the answer to freeing Vassa. She has connections to both (she’s the one that led Lucien to Vassa, after all), so her powers could easily be useful in these plot points. Once again, Azriel would probably have the most knowledge with strange powers/abilities, so if Elain needs any help harnessing and improving these powers it’ll be with him.

I also predict Elain will, in turn, help Azriel understand his Shadows more or learn to use them in a different way. Whether from their love or Elain gaining insight from her Seer powers. More of Azriel’s past with his mother might also be revealed.

Speaking of past, we’ll get Elain’s POV on how she’s felt like she’s been held back by Nesta, her parents, and others. How she was coddled, but also never given the chance to do anything greater. And how she accepted that role because everyone was pleased when she did. This book will definitely be about Elain learning to put her wants and needs first, not being a people pleaser, and making her own choices.

Which brings me to the next big plot point.

Somehow, some way, Lucien is going to catch Azriel and Elain in a romantic moment. Could be a kiss, almost kiss, or the ending of some intimate times. Regardless, Lucien WILL call for a Blood Duel, which Azriel will accept.

During the Blood Duel, there’ll be lots of verbal back and forth between the two. Mostly Lucien with “she’s my mate” vs Azriel’s “she’s doesn’t belong to you. You don’t appreciate, see, or love her and you’ve never even tried”.

But at the end, it’s ELAIN who stops the Blood Duel before either can strike a killing blow. Elain proclaims she’s her own person, and the bond doesn’t mean Lucien has any claim on her. She’s going to make her own choices, with her seer powers, spy role, and the male she actually loves.

As for the “mate bond”, I 10000% think it’s somehow corrupted or faked. They will find out there’s something wrong with it and break it. I would prefer Elain and Lucien break it together, but I could also see Elain doing it by herself.

Now when this happens, I’m torn on if it’ll be revealed Azriel is Elain’s real mate, or if they’ll still choose each other despite not being mates. Either is fine with me.

I also have this idea that Azriel and Elain will actually CREATE their own mating bond. Like, it’ll be some sort of magic that they both have to consent to and choose.

Lastly, Vassa and Lucien will have a romantic moment, and Elain will give him her blessing to go after Vassa. I can see Lucien bowing to her or kissing her hand one last time and calling her “my lady” or something, before him leaving to go to Vassa and that being Lucien’s last scene in this book.

Side note, there will be some scenes with Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Nesta. But I think the majority of these scenes will be at the beginning of the book before Elain and Azriel leave the Night Court, and then one or two when they come back.

I also think many of these plot points could still happen even if Elain and Azriel don’t leave the Night Court, I just think SJM is leading us to the Continent to explore that area a little more.

As for Gwyn, I don’t think she’ll be in the book much if at all. She was a side character made to be Nesta’s friend, and doesn’t have any connection to either the Troves or Koschei. I can kind of see there maybe being a revealed scene when Elain and Azriel return that Clotho is actually not the Night Court’s ally, and that she’s been using the priestesses’ and Gwyn’s Lightsinger powers to help either Koschei or the human Queens. But if there’s no scene like that, then yeah, I don’t see any valid reason for Gwyn to make an appearance in Elain’s book.

There’s more little things here and there, but those are my major predictions. Here’s hoping we get the next book soon! 😭

[niallerspayno]

Spaces Between Us - Chapter Thirteen

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

…

The tension from the meeting lingers as you and the boys retreat to your suite. Everyone seems eager to shake it off, though—Harry puts on some music, Niall cracks open a bag of snacks, and Louis collapses dramatically onto the couch, proclaiming, “I deserve an award for not punching Amanda in the face.”

You sit cross-legged on the bed, Liam beside you with his arm slung protectively over your shoulders. Zayn, ever the quiet one, is perched on the arm of a chair, and Harry and Niall are already deep into a debate about what to order for dinner.

It’s comfortable, almost normal. But the curiosity gnaws at you.

You glance at your phone on the nightstand. For a moment, you hesitate—do you really want to see what’s being said about you? The temptation is too strong to resist, though, and you reach for it, unlocking the screen.

“What are you doing?” Liam asks softly, noticing your movement.

“Just… checking,” you admit, opening Twitter. His hand tightens slightly on your shoulder, a silent reminder that he’s there.

The first thing you notice is the outpouring of love from fans. Tweets flood your timeline, full of heart emojis and kind words.

“Finally, Liam and Y/N❤️ We’ve all known for years!”

“She’s glowing, and they’re going to be such amazing parents!”

“We always suspected it. They’re perfect together😍”

It warms your heart, a small smile tugging at your lips. “The fans… they’re being really sweet,” you say, glancing up.

“Of course they are,” Harry says, leaning over to grab a chip from Niall’s stash. “They’ve been rooting for you two since day one.”

Louis smirks. “If anything, they’re probably just mad it took this long for you to admit it.”

You scroll further, though, and that warmth quickly fades. The media’s tone is far less forgiving. Headlines flash across your screen:

“One Direction Scandal: Zayn Malik’s Baby Mama in Secret Relationship with Liam Payne?”

“The Truth Behind One Direction’s Love Triangle”

“Who’s Lying? The Mystery of Zayn’s Alleged Baby”

Your stomach twists uncomfortably. Some articles are speculative; others are outright cruel. There’s one that accuses you of manipulating Zayn, another that suggests you’ve trapped Liam with the pregnancy. The comments section is a mess—fans arguing, haters spewing venom, and trolls taking cheap shots at your appearance.

“They’re confused,” you whisper, showing Liam one of the tweets. “They don’t understand how Zayn’s the father but you’re…” You trail off, unable to finish the sentence.

Liam leans closer, his brow furrowing as he reads over your shoulder. “They’ll figure it out eventually,” he says, though there’s a hard edge to his voice.

“Or,” Zayn interjects quietly, “we could just tell them the truth. Put an end to all this guessing.”

Louis shakes his head, pacing the room. “You know management would have a fit.”

“Management can shove it,” Liam snaps. “This is her life. Our life. We shouldn’t have to keep explaining ourselves.”

Harry moves to sit beside you, his tone light but comforting. “You can’t please everyone. There’ll always be someone with something nasty to say.”

“I know,” you murmur, setting the phone down. Your chest feels tight, and despite the boys’ reassurances, the weight of it all presses down on you. “I just… I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

Niall moves to sit on your other side, offering you one of his famous reassuring grins. “Hey, you’re stronger than all of them combined. And you’ve got us. Don’t forget that.”

You nod, leaning into Liam’s side as the boys continue their antics, trying to lighten the mood. But the noise of the media still lingers at the back of your mind, a reminder that no matter what, there will always be eyes watching, waiting for you to slip.

…

It’s been a month since you posted that selfie with Liam, and while the world has settled into its own interpretations of your story, your life hasn’t become any easier. If anything, it feels harder.

You’re 26 weeks now, and the changes in your body are impossible to ignore. Your belly has grown significantly, a constant presence that throws off your balance and makes even the simplest tasks feel monumental. Just this morning, you bumped into the corner of the bed frame while trying to grab your phone and burst into tears—not from the pain but from the overwhelming frustration of feeling so clumsy.

The baby’s movements are another constant reminder of how much your life has shifted. There’s no denying the joy in feeling those tiny kicks and rolls, but lately, it feels like your little one is practicing for a soccer match inside you.

“Active little thing, isn’t it?” Harry had said yesterday, his hand pressed lightly against your bump. The awe in his voice had been unmistakable, and the others had quickly crowded around, eager to feel for themselves.

It’s sweet, the way they all look at you like you’re carrying some kind of miracle. But it’s also overwhelming. You don’t feel miraculous. You feel tired. And big. And clumsy. And achy.

The back pain that started a few weeks ago hasn’t let up, and now it’s joined by a persistent ache in your lower belly. You’ve chalked it up to everything stretching and growing, but that doesn’t make it any less miserable. On top of it all, the baby’s position seems to press directly on your bladder, meaning you’re running to the bathroom every five minutes.

Liam notices everything. He’s been nothing short of perfect—attentive, patient, and endlessly supportive. But that’s where the guilt starts to creep in.

You can see it in his eyes, the way he watches you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He tells you as much too, every chance he gets. “You’re glowing,” he’ll say. Or, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

But instead of believing him, you’ve started retreating. It feels like he’s stuck with you—the woman who can’t make it up the stairs without needing to sit down halfway, who cries over the smallest inconveniences, whose body is changing in ways you’re not sure it will ever recover from.

You haven’t said it out loud, but it’s been weighing on you, pulling you further into yourself. The boys have noticed too. Louis checks on you more often, sometimes sneaking into your room just to make sure you’ve eaten. Niall and Harry try to make you laugh with their usual antics, and Zayn always seems to show up with some quiet reassurance, whether it’s a cup of tea or just his calming presence.

But none of it seems to help. You feel like you’re letting them all down, especially Liam.

This morning, you sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at your swollen feet and wondering how you got here. The sound of the suite’s door opening pulls you from your thoughts, and you hear the boys’ familiar voices filtering through. They’re probably back from breakfast, eager to check on you like they always are.

You’re grateful for them. You really are. But right now, you just wish you could escape your own skin.

…

The days pass, and the weight of everything presses harder on your shoulders. You find yourself withdrawing more and more, retreating to your room whenever you can. It’s not that you don’t want to be around them—Liam, Louis, Zayn, Niall, Harry—it’s just that their kindness feels unbearable sometimes. They treat you like you’re strong, like you’re holding everything together, but you don’t feel that way.

Every time Liam looks at you, his eyes full of adoration, you feel the guilt creeping in again. He’s stuck with you, this version of you, and it’s a version you barely recognize yourself. The mirror has become your enemy, reflecting back the changes you try to ignore: the stretch marks climbing your belly, the swelling in your ankles, the way your body feels less and less like your own.

You tell yourself it’s all normal. It’s pregnancy. You knew this would happen. But the logical part of your brain doesn’t stop the emotional part from spiraling. You’ve started making excuses to stay behind when the boys invite you to join them. Even Liam’s gentle suggestions—“Come sit with us for a bit” or “I think some fresh air would help”—feel overwhelming.

I’m tired, you tell him. Maybe later.

And Liam, being Liam, doesn’t push. Instead, he brings things to you: your favorite snacks, the book you’d mentioned you wanted to read, little gestures to make you feel seen. He stays with you whenever he can, lying beside you in bed or holding you while you nap. He doesn’t say it, but you can see the worry growing behind his eyes, the same worry mirrored in the other boys.

Even Louis, who normally teases you relentlessly, has gone quieter. He checks in subtly, asking if you need anything, if you’re eating enough, if you’re feeling okay. Niall and Harry try their best to draw you out with jokes and games, but their laughter feels distant, like it’s coming through a thick fog.

Zayn is the only one who doesn’t push. He’ll sit with you in silence, his presence comforting without demanding anything in return. But even his quiet support doesn’t shake the feeling that you’re a burden, that you’re dragging everyone down with you.

You know they’re worried. You can see it in the way they glance at each other when they think you’re not looking, hear it in the hushed conversations they have just out of earshot. And you hate it. You hate that you’re making them feel this way.

But most of all, you hate that you can’t seem to pull yourself out of this. You should be happy—your baby is healthy, Liam loves you, you’re surrounded by people who care about you—but all you can feel is this deep, consuming sense of inadequacy.

One night, as you lie in bed staring at the ceiling, Liam shifts beside you. He’s been sleeping lightly lately, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep one arm around you at all times.

“You’re quiet again,” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

You hesitate, the words caught in your throat. You want to tell him, but how do you explain something you don’t fully understand yourself?

“I’m just tired,” you say finally, the same excuse you’ve been using for weeks.

Liam doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his hand finding its usual place on your bump. “You’re not alone in this,” he whispers, his voice soft but steady. “You know that, right?”

You nod, even though you don’t feel it. Not really. Because no matter how much love and support they give you, this battle feels like yours alone. And you don’t know how to win it.

…

The distance grows unbearable. Each day, you feel yourself slipping further away, retreating into the walls of your own mind. You tell yourself it’s for the best—Liam doesn’t need to deal with this version of you. The boys don’t need your heaviness dragging them down.

So you start pulling back more. You skip meals with them, claiming you’re too tired. You stay locked in your room while they hang out, ignoring the soft knocks on your door and the muffled voices calling your name.

But the biggest change is with Liam. A few nights ago, when he climbed into bed beside you, his warmth immediately soothing, you couldn’t stop the guilt from suffocating you. How could he still want to be here, holding you, loving you, when you felt like a hollow version of yourself?

So the next night, you waited until he was in the shower, then grabbed your pillow and blanket and set up camp on the couch. You told him you weren’t sleeping well, that you needed space to stretch out, and though he didn’t believe you, he didn’t fight you either.

Now, the space between you feels like an unbreachable chasm. You can feel his heartbreak every time he looks at you, and it only makes you burrow deeper into your isolation. You’re a burden, and you can’t stand the thought of him realizing it too.

The boys notice. Of course they notice. They’ve stopped trying to coax you out with games or jokes or Louis’s well-meaning teasing. Instead, they’ve started watching you with worried eyes, exchanging glances when they think you’re not paying attention.

It all comes to a head one evening, when you’re curled up on the couch, staring blankly at the TV. You’re not even sure what’s playing—it’s just background noise, a distraction from the thoughts swirling in your head.

The knock on the door is sharp, insistent. You don’t answer it.

The door opens anyway, and Louis steps in, followed closely by Liam, Zayn, Harry, and Niall. They look determined, their usual warmth replaced with something heavier, more serious.

“What’s going on with you?” Louis asks, his voice blunt but not unkind. He crosses his arms, his brow furrowed as he stares you down.

You blink at him, caught off guard. “I’m fine,” you say, though your voice lacks conviction.

“Bullshit,” Niall says, stepping forward. “You’re not fine. You’re barely eating, you’re not sleeping, you’ve shut us all out—even Liam.”

At the mention of Liam’s name, your chest tightens. You glance at him, but his gaze is fixed on the floor, his jaw clenched.

“Why are you doing this?” Harry asks, his voice softer than the others. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“I’m not—” you start, but the words catch in your throat. You look down, twisting your hands together.

Zayn sits beside you, his presence calm but firm. “We’re not here to judge you,” he says quietly. “We’re worried about you. All of us.”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. “I’m fine,” you repeat, though your voice trembles.

“You’re not fine,” Louis says, his voice rising slightly. “You’ve shut everyone out, and for what? Do you think we don’t care? Do you think Liam doesn’t care?”

Your head snaps up at that, the guilt bubbling to the surface. “That’s the problem,” you say, your voice breaking. “He does care. Too much. And I’m… I’m dragging him down. I’m dragging all of you down.”

Liam finally looks up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You think you’re dragging me down?”

Tears spill over now, and you can’t stop them. “I’m a mess, Liam. I’m tired all the time, I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror, and you—” Your voice cracks. “You deserve someone who can actually be there for you. Someone who isn’t… broken.”

Liam crosses the room in a heartbeat, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands in his. “Don’t you dare say that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not broken. You’re carrying our baby. You’re doing something I can’t even begin to understand, and you’re doing it beautifully.”

You shake your head, but he grips your hands tighter. “You’re not a burden,” he says firmly. “Not to me. Not to any of us.”

Louis steps closer, his hand resting on your shoulder. “You’re my sister,” he says, his voice softer now. “You don’t get to push me away. Not now, not ever.”

The others nod, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. “We’re not going anywhere,” Harry says simply.

Finally, the dam breaks. The weight of everything you’ve been holding in crashes over you, and you sob, your whole body trembling. Liam pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as you cry into his chest.

You cry until your chest aches and your breathing comes in shaky gulps. Liam holds you the entire time, his hand stroking your back, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple. The boys don’t leave; they sit around you like a fortress, their concern palpable in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper between broken sobs, your face still buried in Liam’s chest. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop apologising,” Liam interrupts gently, his voice steady but full of emotion. He pulls back just enough to cradle your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “You don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here. We’re all here.”

“You scared us,” Niall admits, his voice quieter than usual. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, his elbows on his knees, watching you with an expression that’s both worried and relieved. “We didn’t know how to help you.”

You sniffle, wiping at your face as Liam helps you sit up straighter. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmur, your voice hoarse. “I just… I felt so lost. I still feel lost.”

“You’re allowed to feel lost,” Zayn says, his calm voice cutting through the heavy silence. “You’re going through something huge. But you don’t have to do it alone. Lean on us, yeah?”

“Especially me,” Liam adds, his voice cracking slightly. “I’m supposed to be your partner in this. Don’t shut me out, love. I can’t do this without you.”

Your chest tightens at his words, and fresh tears spill over. “You’ve already done so much,” you whisper. “You deserve better than—”

“Better than you?” Liam interrupts, his tone incredulous. He cups your face again, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re everything to me. Everything. And this baby is too. I wouldn’t trade this—any of this—for the world.”

“Neither would we,” Louis says, his hand still firm on your shoulder. “You’re family. And you don’t get to decide you’re a burden without consulting us first, alright?”

A weak laugh escapes you at his words, even as the tears continue to fall. Harry and Niall exchange relieved glances, and Zayn offers you a small smile, the corners of his mouth lifting just enough to ease the tension in the room.

“We’re not going anywhere,” Harry says softly, his hand resting on your knee. “You’re stuck with us, like it or not.”

“Mostly not,” Louis quips, earning a soft chuckle from Niall.

You wipe at your face again, trying to process the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. “I’ll try,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try to let you in.”

“That’s all we ask,” Liam says, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “One step at a time, yeah?”

You nod, leaning into his touch, the weight on your chest beginning to lift. The boys stay with you for a while longer, their presence a comforting balm to your frayed nerves.

Eventually, Louis declares that you need proper food, and the group insists on staying for dinner. Liam doesn’t leave your side, his arm around your shoulders as you all sit together, the tension slowly easing into something lighter, more hopeful.

As the evening wears on and the boys tease each other over dessert, you find yourself smiling—genuinely smiling—for the first time in what feels like weeks. It’s not perfect, and you know there will still be hard days ahead, but for the first time in a long time, you feel like you’re not facing it alone.

…

The stadium is alive, every seat filled with fans singing, screaming, and crying as the final concert of the tour reaches its crescendo. The energy is electric, but you’re seated in the VIP section, bundled in one of Liam’s hoodies to stave off the slight chill of the night air. Now in your third trimester, being here feels both exhilarating and exhausting. The ache in your back reminds you that your body is changing daily, but you wouldn’t miss this moment for anything.

The boys are magnetic, their voices blending seamlessly as they perform hit after hit. Your hands instinctively rest on your belly, a habit now, especially when the baby kicks. It’s during Liam’s solo in Story of My Life that she makes her presence known, a soft nudge under your ribs that makes you smile.

“You love your dad’s voice,” you murmur, leaning down as if the baby can hear you.

When it’s Zayn’s turn to take the lead in Little Things, her kicks become more insistent, catching you off guard. You laugh softly, your hand pressing against the movement. “You love your other dad, too,” you whisper, the mix of emotions swelling in your chest.

From the stage, Zayn catches your eye and tilts his head, a silent question. You give him a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up. His gaze softens, and he turns back to the crowd, pouring his heart into the lyrics.

All five of them are keeping an eye on you tonight. Louis throws exaggerated gestures your way during No Control, making you laugh despite the heaviness in your belly. Harry blows a kiss mid-spin, and Niall sends you a wink that makes you roll your eyes affectionately. But it’s Liam’s glances that keep your heart steady. Every time his gaze meets yours, it’s like he’s checking in without words. You okay? his eyes seem to ask, and every time, you answer with a small, reassuring smile.

When the last note of Midnight Memories fades and the boys bow to a thunderous ovation, you clap along with the crowd, your chest filled with pride. This moment belongs to them, but in some small way, it feels like yours too.

…

The green room is bustling with post-concert energy, but the moment the boys walk in, they all zero in on you.

“How’s our favorite mum-to-be?” Niall asks, plopping onto the couch beside you. He immediately offers you a bag of crisps. “Fancy a snack?”

You laugh, taking a handful. “Depends—what weird concoction have you got now?”

“Pickles and peanut butter,” he says with a grin, pulling out a jar. “Classic.”

You groan but can’t help reaching for the jar. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Bad influence?” Louis interjects, dropping onto the armrest of the couch. “You two are culinary criminals. I saw you dip a chicken nugget in custard last week.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” you quip, popping a crisp into your mouth.

The room fills with laughter, Harry flopping onto the floor dramatically while Zayn grabs a seat on your other side. “Seriously, though,” Zayn says, his tone quieter but no less warm. “You good? That was a long show, and you’ve been looking tired.”

“I’m okay,” you say softly, meeting his gaze. “A little sore, but she was kicking up a storm tonight. Both of you got a reaction.”

Zayn’s lips curl into a small smile, and he rests a hand on your shoulder briefly. “She knows who her dads are,” he says, a quiet pride in his voice.

“She does,” you whisper, your chest tightening with emotion.

Liam enters last, his face flushed from the show, and heads straight for you. He doesn’t say a word, just kneels in front of you and places a hand on your belly. “How’s my girl?” he asks softly, his eyes darting between you and your bump.

“She’s good,” you assure him, covering his hand with yours. “She loved the concert.”

When the baby kicks under his palm, Liam’s eyes light up. “There’s my little dancer,” he says, his voice thick with affection.

“Oi, don’t forget I got a kick too,” Zayn teases from beside you, leaning back with a smirk.

Liam glances at him, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Guess she’s a fan of us both.”

“Of course she is,” Louis chimes in, tossing a pillow at Liam. “She’s got the best dads in the world, and the best uncles too.”

“Obviously,” Harry adds, grabbing a slice of pizza from the table. “Now, can we all agree to stop hogging her? We’ve got snacks and bad jokes to share.”

The night winds down with laughter and teasing, the boys filling the room with their usual chaos. Niall continues to push his latest craving combos on you while Louis and Harry tell ridiculous stories to keep you entertained. Zayn remains a steady presence at your side, and Liam doesn’t stray far, his hand brushing against yours whenever he gets the chance.

For the first time in a while, you feel light—no media circus, no management breathing down your neck. Just your family, gathered around you, exactly where they belong.

…

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts gentle shadows over the room, the warmth between you and Liam filling the space. You’re nestled in his arms, his hand still resting on your belly as you both talk quietly about the future.

“You talked to Zayn about baby names yet?” Liam asks, his voice soft and curious as he traces small circles on your skin.

You laugh quietly, the sound more tired than anything. “We’ve tossed around a few ideas, but we haven’t settled on anything yet. I think we’re both still figuring it out. What about you? Have you thought of any names you like?”

Liam hums thoughtfully, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve got a few ideas, but I think I’ll leave it up to you and Zayn. You both get the final say.” He pauses, then adds, his voice a little more hesitant, “But, uh, I’ve been thinking… when we get home, I want you to move in with me. We can figure out the nursery together, and just… settle into this new life.” He looks down at you, searching your face for any sign of hesitation.

Your heart swells at his words, and you lift your head from his chest to look at him. “I’d love that,” you say, the sincerity in your voice clear. “I’ll move in with you. We’ll make it work. I’m excited.”

Liam smiles, clearly relieved, but then there’s a moment of silence, a sudden heaviness in the air. He looks down at you, his expression growing more serious. “What if we got married?” he asks, his words coming out quietly but with a weight to them that takes you off guard. His thumb rubs over your knuckles, waiting for your reaction.

You blink, a little caught off guard by the question, but then you let out a soft breath, your heart pounding a little faster. “Liam…” you start, the words coming out softly. You can see the nervousness in his eyes, the way he’s waiting for you to react, but you take a moment before speaking again. “I want that. I do. But I think we should focus on bringing our baby into the world first. Let’s settle into that before we rush into anything else.” You smile gently, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I know this isn’t the usual step-by-step for couples, but I’m just so grateful to have you by my side. I want to make sure we’re both ready for everything before we take that next step.”

Liam’s expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I get it,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you softly, a kiss full of promise. “I’m in no rush. I just… I want you to know, whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

You nod, your hand resting over his heart as you look into his eyes, the warmth of the moment surrounding you both. “I’m glad. I’m just so happy to have you, Liam. You’ve been there through everything. And now, we get to be a family.”

The silence stretches between you both, comfortable and filled with understanding. As the night winds down, you find yourselves wrapped up in each other’s warmth. It’s in these quiet moments, with his arms around you and your daughter kicking gently beneath his hand, that you know everything will be okay. The future is uncertain, but with Liam by your side, it feels like everything is falling into place. You smile as you close your eyes, drifting into a peaceful sleep, knowing that this is just the beginning of the journey.

…

The airport terminal is buzzing with the usual energy of departures and arrivals, but for you and Liam, it feels like a mix of emotions. You stand in the midst of your boys, the ones who have been by your side through everything—through the madness, the ups and downs, and all the crazy twists that life threw your way. The feeling of leaving the tour behind for good, of knowing you won’t all be living together under the same roof anymore, is still settling in. It’s a strange sort of sadness, the kind that sneaks up on you when you realize that things are changing for good.

Louis is the first to pull you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you with an energy that’s both comforting and filled with love. “I’m going to miss you, kiddo,” he says, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “But, you know, I’ll be over all the time. We’ll have a blast with the baby prep. And I’ll bring the snacks—obviously.”

You laugh, pulling back slightly to look at him. “I’m holding you to that. You better show up for the baby’s first birthday, or I’ll never forgive you.”

Niall’s next, pulling you into his arms with a grin. “I’ll be over so much, you’ll get sick of me. You and Liam are going to need help with the baby, and I’m your man for the job. Plus, I have a feeling the little one will be craving the same weird snacks I like. We’re already soulmates.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help but smile at him. “You’d better have your snack stash ready.”

Harry steps forward with a grin, his usual mischievous spark in his eyes. “Don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily. I’ll be there to annoy you both, and I’ll bring all the books on parenting. Let’s be real, I’ll probably need the most guidance,” he teases, earning a playful punch from Niall.

“Definitely,” Niall shoots back, ruffling Harry’s hair. “You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

You smile at their banter, but then your gaze flicks over to Zayn. He’s standing quietly, watching the group with a softness in his eyes, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. As you make your way over to him, he gives you a small smile, but you can see that he’s feeling the weight of the moment, too. Zayn’s been your rock in ways you never expected, and seeing him like this—the end of this chapter for all of you—is bittersweet.

He pulls you into a hug, his arms steady around you, as always. “You know I’ll be around, right?” he says, his voice quieter, more serious. “I’ll be over to help with the baby. And if you ever need me, don’t hesitate. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

You nod, your voice soft as you pull away from him, “I know. And I’ll need you. A lot.”

Liam stands next to you, his hand resting on the small of your back, a comforting presence that feels more natural than ever. You glance up at him and give him a small smile, feeling the quiet weight of everything you’ve been through together. This moment, this goodbye for now, feels like the final page of one chapter. But there’s something else, something unspoken—the excitement, the anticipation of what’s to come next.

The rest of the boys gather around, each of them making their promises to be there for you both, to help you with everything from baby prep to emotional support. It’s a strange mix of sadness, relief, and excitement. They’re all standing here with you, but you know that things are changing—life is moving forward, and they won’t be living under the same roof anymore. It’s a new phase.

Louis claps Liam on the shoulder. “Take good care of her, mate. And make sure to send us regular updates. We’ll need to see those baby bump pics.”

Liam chuckles, a soft laugh that feels like it’s wrapping around you in a safe hug. “I will. I promise. You’ll all be the first to know.”

There’s one final group hug, and as you step back from the boys, your heart feels full, despite the bittersweet feeling tugging at your chest. These have been your people, your family, and no matter where life takes you next, they’ll always be in your corner.

As the last goodbye is said, you and Liam make your way toward the gates, ready to take on the next part of your journey. You glance at him, feeling the excitement building. Your baby is coming. Your new life is just beginning. But as you hold his hand, you know one thing for sure—you’re not doing this alone.

…

Next chapter

[dustedmagazine]

Bilders - Dustbin of Empathy (Sophomore Lounge)

The latest album under Bill Direen’s Bilders moniker, Dustbin of Empathy, is elegant and grizzled, both haunted and empowered by forward motion. The sound is open if often tense, with considered tempos rarely rising above the middle and songs that tend to fade out quickly. The guitars are picked clean or resolutely strummed —  a fiery exception is “Anvil Dark,” which throbs and reels and features a fuzzy, slicing lead. An organ, when present, is soft and round, a bright partner for the buoying murmurs of bass. It makes sense that members of Lambchop provide the pensive sprawl behind the directness of Direen’s travelogs.

The opener, “Citizens of Nowhere,” marches over kilometers and through generations — from eastern Europe to Turkey to Paris and parts in-between, from the narrator’s grandfather on down. Its protagonists are cosmopolitans of necessity, driven out by violence not wanderlust. The line “my Dad was born/both legs in order/good for crossing the border” is representative. This state of constant flight, if never escape, from crisis resounds and in a way resolves in track 13, “The Third War.” The song’s bare chords gather power from repetition and periodic whirls of amplifier feedback, as a weary Direen lays out his brief history of war: the beginning (“some time after the first words”) to its mythological justification (“it was the will of the gods…[the men] had invented”) to its dire endpoint (“when the third war ends there’ll be no one left to view it”). He has culprits in mind.

One of them is surely the sinister figure at the center of “The Weevil” —  a song delivered grandiose, dogged and wry like Leonard Cohen’s “First We Take Manhattan” with the vocal relish of Tim Curry’s Dr. Frank-N-Furter. Direen plots the shadowy entrepreneur’s rise from hustling in Bangkok to filling “certain orders too requested to refuse [for] a discriminating market stretched from Rome to Santa Cruz.” It’s a closer look at the dead-eyed merchants whose “unshackled greed for gain” provokes a snarl on the bridge of “The Third War.” Aggression well-earned, but that song’s opening gambit, “alright, a little song for peace,” may say more about the singer’s intentions. It’s a plea that implicates not just the practitioners of “butchery” and “blood-laced manipulation” but the listener and everyone being manipulated, “pricked on by sibling rivalry,” too. The pronoun in “we didn’t see it coming,” is crucial. All the same, you don’t write little songs for peace without some sun in your periphery.

As bleak as Dustbin of Empathy gets, there are stretches when the tension cracks, showing paths through the ruins. A wandering slide guitar and sweet ooze of organ lead us deeper into Direen’s consciousness on “Scaribus.” The vocals are mixed up close and he uses that intimacy to play: to test his high end, roll guttural “hmm”s and whistle. The song seems to reflect a mind drifting with the music. We snatch references to “the hands of the corrupt” encountered elsewhere on the album, but also “what a happy couple [gets] up to,” encountered less frequently. It’s not revelatory to note that “going for a ride on the scaribus [pronounced ‘scary bus’]” sounds a lot like a metaphor for life, man, but in Direen’s seasoned rasp, embraced by the lovely, twinkling conversation of guitars, it’s quite profound. On “Comrades,” the interplay between a gliding fiddle and dipping bass evokes a dappled, comforting light. It reminds me of The Mekons’ meadowland folk on Natural. And while Direen begins the song “some voices, I will never hear again/did not live as long as I do,” he continues, “but their songs, we remember them well…song of many/lives longer than the man.” It’s a rich, resonant sentiment: not a mourning of loss, but a celebration of the memory and of the singers keeping it alive, carrying it forward.

Alex Johnson

[kachikirby]

Kirby: Mysterious Incident on the Pupupu Train! - Chapter 6: The Unlikely Culprit

Previous Chapter

With help from Kirby and Bandana, Chef Kawasaki was able to finish making breakfast. There was ham and eggs, salad, soup, and other delicious foods, but of course, none of them were enough to make up for the lack of sweets. Everyone was quiet, as if the fun trip up until now had been a lie. Even Wheelie and Capsule J2, who were always unable to stay calm, were quiet. Kirby was carrying plates to the table of Meta Knight and his crew.

Looking at them, Kirby said.

“Huh? Captain Vul isn’t here. What’s wrong?”

“He didn’t want to eat breakfast. Recently he hasn’t been doing well.” Axe Knight answered.

“That’s how it seems to be.”

Kirby remembered how different Vul was from his usual self. “I wonder why. Maybe he has a tummy ache?”

“Well, we thought he would be fine since his body is pretty sturdy.”

“If you say so, then...”

Kirby returned to the kitchen car and talked to Bandana, who was washing dishes.

“Hey, Waddle Dee. Captain Vul doesn’t seem to be doing well. He didn’t even come for breakfast.”

Bandana turned to look at him.

“Huh? Really? I wonder why.”

“I was thinking about going to see him.”

“Is that so? I’ll go, too.”

“I'll make something that he can eat even if he’s not feeling well so you can take it with you. Some soft rice porridge would be good.” Chef Kawasaki said.

“Ok! Thanks, Chef Kawasaki!”

Kirby and Bandana took the rice porridge made by Kawasaki on a tray and headed towards Meta Knight’s room. Bandana knocked on the door and a gloomy voice replied from inside.

“...who is it?”

“Kirby and Waddle Dee.”

“What do you want?”

“We’ve come to see you. Are you sick, Captain Vul?” Kirby said.

 The door opened slowly. Vul had a hollow expression and his sluggish expression showed that he definitely wasn’t well.

“...I’m not sick. I don’t need a visit.”

“We brought you some rice porridge.”

“Even if you don’t have an appetite, you should eat something!”

At Kirby and Bandana’s pleading, Vul accepted the rice porridge with a frown and said. “...yeah. Thanks for it.”

At that moment, he tried to close the door, but then Kirby said.

“...there’ll be a tea party this afternoon. If you’re feeling better, you should come.”

“...no thanks, sweets and so on I can’t...”

“There won’t be any sweet cake because we don’t have any sugar.”

As Kirby said that, Vul flinched.

“Sugar...”

“Yeah. Someone went to the kitchen car and took the sugar. Because of that, we can’t make any cake. Chef Kawasaki has to think of a lot of new recipes and everyone’s disappointed!”

“But Chef Kawasaki said he can manage. He’ll use fruit and chocolate to make yummy desserts.” Bandana said.

“So you should come, too! If you eat some sweets, you’ll surely feel better!”

Vul was silent.

“Well, see you!”

“Take care!”

Kirby and Bandana waved at him and left.

Vul lowered his head and murmured. “I... I... what in the world...!”

~~~~~~~~

By the time Kirby and Bandana returned to the dining car, the passengers seemed to have already finished their meals. However, even if their plates were empty, everyone was reluctant to leave their seat. Between the sleeping staff members and the missing sugar, tension was high and made everyone too nervous to return to their rooms.

“The dessert melon was delicious.”

“Yeah... but of course...”

“I wanted to eat cake.”

Their discussions weren’t very exciting either. Meta Knight stood up.

“I’ll be returning to my room.”

“Well, us, too...”

His subordinates also stood up. And at that moment, the door to the dining car opened and there stood Captain Vul. The Meta Knights raised their voices.

“Oh, it’s Captain Vul.”

“You feeling any better?”

“Then how about you have some breakfa...”

“...no.” Vul said with a weak voice. “I’ve come to apologize to everyone.”

“...huh?”

“Everyone, please forgive me!” Vul shouted as he bowed his head. “I was the one who hid the sugar! I’m sorry... I offer my greatest apologies!”

“...HUUUUHH!?”

The passengers were so surprised that they looked like they would fall over. The ones who were especially shocked were the Meta Knights.

“It was Captain Vul!? But that’s-!”

“No way... that’s a lie!”

“It’s true...”

Vul said to Meta Knight with tears forming in his eyes.

“I’ve humiliated the name of the Battleship Halberd’s captain. I’ll fully accept being fired... I’m extremely sorry, Lord Meta Knight!”

Meta Knight stared at him and said. “There has to be a reason for it. Be honest and tell me everything, Captain Vul.”

“Yes, sir...”

Vul began to speak with a wilted look.

“What happened was...” He raised his head. “A diet.”

“A diet...?”

“Yeah. Everyone might not believe it... but... I’ve... gotten a bit too fat!”

Upon hearing that, the Meta Knights unanimously spoke.

“Yeah, I thought so.”

“I did, too.”

“Your clothes looked a bit tight recently.”

“...kuku!” Vul wiped his tears with his fist.  “How could everyone have noticed it? Yes, it was my clothes. Just before we boarded the Pupupu Train. I ripped my pants suddenly due to my movement. I was so shocked...”

Vul held his head.

“And above that, it was the precious captain’s uniform that I had received from Lord Meta Knight! While putting on a new pair of pants, I swore to myself that I would lose weight! And... never again would I rip my uniform!”

“So then, you didn’t eat much.” Javelin Knight said.

“I thought it was strange. Captain Vul can’t keep his hands off desserts.” Trident Knight said.

“I endured!”

Vul’s voice trembled.

“With my strong mental fortitude, I held back the urge to eat them! And yet, all of you! With your pudding and blueberry ice cream, it made it difficult...!”

He clenched his fist.

“And moreover, that damn Chef Kawasaki and his horrible proposal for a tea party! How much do you want me to suffer...!”

The harsh tone made Chef Kawasaki recoil.

“Huh?! That’s not possible!”

“...I understand. Now I can think calmly.”

Vul once again hung his head.

“But I was too hungry to make a sensible decision. I couldn’t let the tea party happen...! With that single thought... in the dead of night, I snuck into the kitchen car while everyone was sound asleep and stole the bag of sugar...”

“Where did you hide the sugar then? It wasn’t in our room, was it?” Axe Knight asked.

“Obviously not. If I hid it in the room, you would’ve easily found it. That’s why I hid it in the freight car.”

The freight car was the vehicle at the back part of the Pupupu Train. It was for luggage that couldn’t fit in the passenger’s rooms. Such as Dedede’s parasol and boat. During the trip, no one went there because there was no need to go there.

“It was packed with boxes and there was no room to hide the sugar. So I moved one of the boxes out and hid the sugar in its place...”

“Wait a minute.” Meta Knight suddenly cut him off. “What happened to the box you removed?”

“Huh? Uh...I properly put it in the kitchen car.”

“...as I thought.”

Meta Knight put a hand on his mask as if he was having a headache.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“The box you moved had slumbercumbers in it.”

“...wha? Huh?” Vul replied with a face that didn’t comprehend was he was told.

“The box you moved into the kitchen had slumbercumbers in it. Chef Kawasaki mistook them for regular cucumbers and made sandwiches with them and that caused the driver and the others to fall asleep.”

Upon swallowing this truth, Vul jumped and raised his voice.

“HUUUHHHHH?! Th-then the crew members falling asleep... was my fault!?”

“That’s right.”

“I-I-I’M SO VERY SORRY!!” Vul staggered. “It wasn’t just the sugar, but the crew falling asleep was my fault! AHHHHHHHHHH! How am I gonna apologize for this...!?”

“Before that, there’s something I’d like to ask.”

“...what is it...” Vul asked, hunched over and completely disappointed.

“You said that the freight car was packed tightly with wooden crates, right?”

“Huh...”

“Mr. York, I’d like you to tell me about the wooden crates.”

Meta Knight looked at York, who was sitting in the corner. York raised his face as if he was determined.

“In those tightly packed boxes... were all of them slumbercumbers?”

“...”

“If so, you, the person in charge of the train, should have known. The slumbercumbers, on your orders...”

“HOLD IT!” A voice shouted.

Before anyone knew it, the door to the dining hall slammed open and in walked King Dedede. He leaned with one hand against the wall and said coolly.

“I’ve heard the whole thing.”

“Ah! So, you eavesdropped!” Kirby said.

“What about driving the train? Isn’t it dangerous for no one to be in the cab?” Knuckle Joe said.

“I’ve left it to the Waddle Dees! It has a self-driving device, they can handle it for the time being! Chef Kawasaki, get me my breakfast! I want three large bowls of donburi! And don’t forget the chunky steak and a heaping pile of potato salad!”

“Yes, yes, coming right up.”

Chef Kawasaki quickly returned to the kitchen car. Dedede stepped into the dining car casually and glared at York.

“I’ve seen through your horrid plan! There’s no way you’re running away, York!”

York looked away with a blank expression.

“Slumbercumbers are a rare vegetable that can only be grown in the southern part of Dream Land! Until now, no one has looked at it as something that shouldn’t be eaten! But you saw it!”

“...”

“It’s a vegetable that’ll surely put you to sleep for days! If exploited, it’d have disastrous consequences!”

“Exploited...you say?”

“That’s right! For example... if you put the Waddle Dees to sleep in the Castle Dedede kitchen, you can have as much snacks as you want!”

Mace Knight rammed him. “That’s useless!”

“But it would be a particularly big problem if abused...” Axe Knight said.

King Dedede continued. “Anyway, you were smuggling slumbercumbers to make a fortune off them!”

“Smuggling...?”

“Yeah! You’re secretly transporting the slumbercumbers and selling them to thugs! If you do that, you’ll get a ton of wealth!”

“I knew it...!”

Bandana Waddle Dee shouted out with a trembling voice. He stood by King Dedede and glared at York.

“That was your plan from the beginning! The Pupupu Train wasn’t made to entertain us, it was made to transport the slumbercumbers...!”

York looked around at everyone with sharp eyes before speaking. “Yes, that’s right. I tried to transport the slumbercumbers. But that’s...”

At that moment, the door to the dining car opened and the Waddle Dees jumped inside.

“Your highness, we’re in danger!”

“Huh? What is it?! I’m busy right now!”

“W-we-we’re in real danger!”

The Waddle Dees were now crying.

“The red light on the driver’s seat is shining!”

“...a red light? Isn’t that the one that reports an emergency?”

“That’s right! And a voice that said “Shooting Star Approaching, Please use caution” came out!”

“At this rate, this train will collide with a shooting star!”

~~~~~~

Next Chapter

Table of Contents

[leaderoffestivals]

CROSS FIRE: Fist and Fist Ch 1

Madara: Hmmm~. So, they’re training as a pair, huh? They look like they’re having fun, aren’t they? 

Jun: —And, why’re you looking at me?

Scenario Writer: Kino Seitarou (with Akira) Season: Summer Characters: Kiryu Kuro, Mikejima Madara, Nagumo Tetora, Sazanami Jun, Otogari Adonis  Proofed by: @ryuseipuka, Skyress

Madara: Well then, Kuro-san. I’d like to clearly establish the details of our match one last time. 

The match will be held four days from now, in the afternoon.

This activity will be part of the events lined up to promote BUTOUKAI, so there’ll be some filming on-site, but other than that, the rules will follow those of the actual CROSS FIRE bouts. 

The use of weapons is prohibited. Attacks to the back of the head and vital areas are prohibited. Biting and scratching are prohibited too, but other than that, anything goes. 

The player who KO's his opponent in 10 rounds wins—Do you have objections to any of that?

Kuro: Nope, I’m down with all that. Ya better take good care of yerself so you don’t get hurt, you hear? 

Madara: Hahaha! That’s my line, you knowww!

You would have a slight advantage if it were just martial arts, Kuro-san. However, this is Mixed Martial Arts. Any technique is allowed… … so that means my chances of winning will be pretty high too!

Do be careful not to let your guard down!

Jun: Woah~. The air between the both of them’s just crackling with tension, isn’t it~?

I didn’t expect everything would turn out as Nagumo-kun had hoped for, but I’m really looking forward to the actual showdown!

Adonis: Fufu~. It looks like there’s a storm of sparks flying between them, but they do seem to be enjoying themselves too. 

I never thought the two of them would have such a connection arising from the Dragon King Competition from way back then. Watching them carry out that historic battle once again will certainly be a highlight among the events.

Tetora: My thoughts exactly~!

Everyone will have three days to prepare. How you spend your time starting from today is up to you, which means that the battle has already begun!

And that’s why, Taisho! If there’s anything you’d like me to help out with in training, please don’t hesitate to approach me to be your partner!

This is a real big match that’ll affect the prestige of the Karate Club after all, so I’ll do my very best to support you! 

Kuro: I really appreciate that. Then, I wanna practise some chokehold and ground techniques. Would ya mind being my partner fer those?

I’m no good at applying those skills. If I’m unable to execute ‘em properly, I won’t be able to fight in an MMA battle, right?  

Tetora: Ossu! If that’s what you wanna do, Taisho, I don’t mind undergoing a little hardship!

Kuro: Here I go then. Let’s go all out, Tetsu… …! HAA—!

Tetora: OWAH!—Ow-OW-OW! Give, GIVE! (1)

Madara: Hmmm~. So, they’re training as a pair, huh? They look like they’re having fun, aren’t they? 

Jun: —And, why’re you looking at me?

Madara: Fufu~n! Isn’t it obvious? Since the Karate duo are practising together, I’m gonna have to find practice partners of my own too~. 

However, all that’s left here are inexperienced hands. There’s just no way I can force Adonis-san to take on all the burden of training with me alone—

You do understand what I’m getting at, don’t you~?

Jun: Nope. You do know no one will recklessly go along with you just because you tell them to, don’t you~?

Wouldn’t it be better to train with someone you’re already familiar with? Plus, I think it would be a good idea to have the Track and Field Team be the ones going up against the Karate Club, don’t you?

Madara: If that’s the case, the Track and Field Team wouldn't stand a chance. Fighting isn't our speciality, after all?

We would need more manpower to gain the upper hand over our opponents. I’d be very grateful if you could help out with that!

Adonis: I agree with Senpai, too. 

If Mikejima-senpai and I were to form a two-man team by ourselves, that means Sazanami would be left all alone. 

We’re muscle-training buddies, aren’t we? I don’t want you to be the only one left on your own. 

Jun: Haa~. I’m real sorry to have caused you to worry about me like that. Since you’ve gone and put it that way, I guess there’s no choice but for me to help out, after all!

Madara: Yes! It’ll really be a big help me too, Jun-san. 

Jun-san’s an avid manga reader, so you’d have a wealth of knowledge from fighting and delinquent manga. It’ll be very reassuring to receive all sorts of advice from you~ ♪ 

Jun: No, no way. I don’t think my knowledge of manga will be of any help in your situation, you know~? They’re just unrealistic techniques and theories that are probably nowhere near legit at all—

But then again~, this is for the sake of our much-anticipated Shuffle Unit after all, so why not pull out all the stops?  

It’d be such a let-down if Kiryu-senpai were to one-sidedly dominate the match. If we could add some colour to liven up that practice match of BUTOUKAI’s, we can probably expect the viewership ratings to increase, won’t we? 

Haha~! To think I’m actually using words like ‘increase viewership ratings’ when I’m really clueless about how to go about doing it. If Ibara—who’s an expert in that field—were to hear me, he’d probably burst out laughing, huh~?

Madara: Nope. They may be amateur ideas, but even so, that is the work that’s expected of us. 

We’ll make up for that lack with enthusiasm! Let’s get started with training right away, Inexperienced Trio! 

Jun: EH~! Is that really what we’re calling our trio?!

Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter what we call ourselves; I’ll get to watch a red-hot battle either way. 

There’s really no telling how all of this will turn out—the success of this Shuffle Project is riding on us! 

Let’s show our opponents everything we’ve got~, Mikejima-senpai! Otogari-san!

Madara / Adonis: Yeah! 

—————-To be continued——————-

Chapter 7  /  Chapter 9

Translator’s Note:  

In wrestling sports, a player will say 'give’ (short for ‘I give up’) to surrender to his opponent when unable to escape from submission holds, chokes and armbars.

[kithtaehyung]

waitttt ok ok ok

so i’m gonna throw a theory following the pictures from the teaser AND the little spoilers you gave us a few months ago

i think one of the spoilers was « and you don’t think you ever screamed this loud » or something like that sorry i have a terrible memory

my main thought was « ofc this is a snippet from a smut scene » but now i’m not so sure anymore because everything is about explode…

i think this spoiler would be during a basketball match ? and because of bro being a bit suspicious about yoongi and reader there’ll be some tension and BAM everything is a mess 🤭

maybe a little fight between bro and yoongi ? or bro and someone else ? 👁️👁️

again it would depend on the convo between bro and reader (this damn cliffhanger 😒) but this isn’t a situation that can be resolved after one talk…

and don’t worry i remember a lot from the little spoilers because i read them again and again and again 🤣🤣🤣 this is so pathetic

bye 💋

-📀

oh ho ho!!! and the theories are starting👀 of course I cannot confirm nor deny, but I love how you’re piecing things together based on the other spoilers aHHhhHhh that’s amazing! i don’t think that’s pathetic at all what🤣 it makes me happy as a writer that you do that!

[where-theres-smoak-2]

Shadow and Bone 2x05 Review

Ok going to be honest this might be the episode where they lost me. The first 4 episode I thought were pretty solid and I enjoyed them but this one I don’t know why but I just didn’t enjoy it as much. It felt rushed but also felt like it dragged which I know is a bit of a oxymoron but there we go. I also feel like not a lot really happened. But anyway best to get into it, there will spoilers any book spoilers will be between two *. 

The Crows 

The crows whole mission this episode was getting the sword in shu han. However there was also alot of tension between them all, last episode Kaz kicked Inej out of the crew so there is the fallout from that. He also doesn’t tell her about the new job, I did think it was funny though when Nina says that Kaz would rather push Inej away than admit he feels anything for her and then questions whether she was supposed to say that out loud. Then Jesper puts his foot in his mouth with Wylan when its revealed he can’t read and this is clearly something he feels ashamed off, Jesper spends most of the episode trying to mend that yet somehow keeps making it worse. I did like the scene where Wylan calls Jesper out for trying to tell him how to feel about his shame whilst he himself is hiding that he is grisha. 

I did like the conversation between Nina and Zoya. It’s clear Zoya believes that Nina has abandoned her country and has dome resentment towards her for that. What is interesting is the line about Fjerdans burning grisha and how ‘you can’t unlearn that kind of hatred.’ I do think you could apply this to ravka and otkazat’sya views of grisha, at the moment Nikolai and Alina have this whole lets unite otkazat’sya and grisha and that once the fold is gone there’ll be no reason to hate the grisha but they have forgotten that unlearning the hatred otkazat’sya have for grisha is not going to be easy. I don’t really agree with Zoya’s statement that hate can’t be unlearnt, I think it can, as nina and matthais showed, but I think it is incredibly difficult especially if you’re talking about a mass group of people. It’s going to be easy to turn one persons opinion but very difficult to turn an entire nations. But this scene did make me feel really bad for Nina especially when she is talking about her and matthias choosing each other and choosing to be free together but then Zoya pointing out that now Matthias is in hellgate and nina has abandoned her country and asking if it was worth it, seeing that tear come down Nina’s face was really sad.  

We also learn where Kaz gets his touch aversion from and it makes perfect sense, I too would never want to be touched again my life if I had gone through that trauma. That scene in the teashop when Kaz starts to have the panic attack and Nina unknowingly touches his hand was really intense, but I do love that Inej saves him and gets him out of the situation and says that she couldn’t leave him. I mean Kaz and Inej are having some really great scenes this season. 

Darklina 

I feel like both Alina and Aleks become more unhinged in this episode. Alina in particular is starting to spiral a bit. She can’t find mal, she is seeing the aftermath of Aleks’ attack and poor Adrik does lose his arm, she is reunited with Genya and Baghra and has learnt what Aleks has done to them and all of this is clearly having a deep effect on Alina who is starting to act erratic. Meanwhile Aleks finds out that Baghra and Genya have escaped and that all the experiments were destroyed so that hasn’t put him in the best of moods. But what’s interesting is again like when he had an angry outburst after finding out the journal was missing, when he feels his anger rising here he once again reaches through their connection so he can see Alina, I really do think that he is using her as a sort of anchor to reign in these feelings of anger, she is what calms him and helps him regain control.

Then we have the mind palace scene between them where Alina is looking to sever the link between them. This scene was really intriguing to me because its kind of like the tables have turned and here we have Alina manipulating Aleks, I mean it was clear the she was manipulating him and honestly I think he did know that and you can see his wariness, her change of mind came too quickly for it to be real and he knows that. But I think at the same time she is saying all the things he has ever wanted to hear from her. Also I do think whilst she is trying to manipulate him what she is saying is true, its all the things she has denied up until now and I do think most of what she says is how she really feels. Like when she tells him he was the first person to see who she really was, what she was truly capable of. She was telling the truth here and she confirms as much later when she is talking with Baghra and says that he was the first one to show her that she wasn’t just a weak stick from Keramzin, that he showed her she was meant for more and honestly that scene she has with Baghra was heartbreaking because it really did highlight all the insecurities she had about herself before meeting Aleks and how he made her feel special and like she could be something but also how him then betraying her had such a deep effect on her and how she is struggling with that. 

Another thing she says that I think is true and something she has been in denial about is how mal doesn’t understand the power that is growing within her, this is shown in their argument right after this scene where he admits that she’s just been barrelling towards her goal of saving ravka and hunting the amplifiers and he’s just been trying to keep up. 

Alina does change tactics during the scene when she says its not all about power, she turns from talking about how a like they are to full on seduction mode. It once again reminded me of just how much chemistry these guys have, like you could feel the want between them. We also got Aleks saying the ‘wanting makes us weak’ line. The way when she stroked his cheek he leant into her touch and closed his eyes. I think a part of him was still wary that this was a manipulation but also he couldn’t help but react to her touch. 

So as I said I do think that Alina was being truthful in this scene, but its interesting because its essentially a tactic she learnt from Aleks, its the same thing he did to her in season 1, manipulate not with lies but with the truth. Alina hides her true intentions behind that truth she is telling him. 

*One scene I did hate though was when Aleks says the line ‘the whole world will hear it when I make her scream.’ The reason I hate it is because its nearly identical to a line from the second book that the Darkling says to Mal. Only hear they have completely changed the meaning and tone of it. In the books it is very much an innuendo and it happens right after Mal reacts with jealously to seeing the darkling saving Alina from tripping. LB even confirmed that it was an innuendo in an interview she did. But here they’ve twisted it into something violent and hateful. Which as a darklina and a book reader who found humour in that scene, as you were supposed to, I am really disappointed the added the line but in this way. I would have preferred they had left it out.* 

Genya and David

 Oh poor Genya she really had an emotional episode. I hated that she felt the need to hide from david. But I did like the scene where she confronted the Queen and told her how she was able to poison the King. I also liked how Nikolai took his mother to task and held her accountable for the part she played in what happened to Genya. As Nikolai said Genya was under the Queen’s protection and the Queen turned a blind eye and even thought it was acceptable because he was her king and genya was just a servant. But the Queen was supposed to mother to all ravkans and yet she failed in that task. 

 I loved the speech david gave to genya though about how her beauty is her armour and how it was fragile and for show but what was inside her was steel. Which is unbreakable and doesn’t need fixing. Just the whole speech was beautiful. And then Genya saying that she was able to find them because she sort out familiar heartbeats was the cherry on top. Honestly the whole scene I am not ashamed to admit brought tears to my eyes.   

So this was one of my shorter reviews but honestly I feel like this episode was just pairs of characters having conversations and not a whole lot really happened. So on to the next episode. 

Favourite Lines 

‘...because no one is this bloody band of broken dolls can confab worth a damn.’ 

‘Your beauty is your armour. It’s fragile stuff, all show, really. But what’s inside you, that’s steel. It’s brave and unbreakable and it doesn’t need fixing.’ 

[imperfectskeleton]

There’s something in the way I write that comes off as pretentious

Years and years of practice but I don’t try to prevent this

Ev’ry sentence poetry when I feel the weight

Not really trying, just a sense that is innate

I work in metaphors, allegories and pedantics

Enjoy the arguments with basis in semantics

I’m lying on the roof and dreaming in the day

The person who I love the most 4000 miles away

I tried and failed to say goodbye, did it over twice

When in truth we both knew a hug would suffice

Still I am insulted when the way I talk (write)’s mentioned

Because while I edit little I think I have a penchant

For thoughts and words unraveled, feelings communicated

Telling people time again, they’re not the ones I hated

This is nonsense, rhythm, rhymes

In truth just a distraction

Thinking of the gone by times

When I should have took action

Im waiting for the sun to set so I can see the sky fall

Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t leave, beyond his hypnotise pull

It’s getting dark, my shoulder aches, and yet I am afraid

To think the thoughts that chase me round and have for now three days

My instinct, introducing him’s to say he is my brother

With this assessment some agree, including my own mother

But in the last few days, in light, we’ve been brought into question

Insistence we’re a couple in spite of my discretion

I’ve always written easily, as I am doing now

The cause of struggle within me is the thoughts I must put down

To say I’m not in love with him may be a bald faced lie

But saying there’s no romance at least sets the bar less high

My mind was made up years ago, I want him in my life

But why must this lead into me wanting to be his wife

I can love him gently, loudly, full of life and laughs

I can indeed put effort in to intertwine our paths

But I don’t want to tie him down I’m sure he does not want me

And I’m not good for romance so we’re both better off free

I didn’t used to want him and don’t think that I do now

But everyone else sees it so maybe I should allow

The thought that it’s romantic, though it cannot be so

Maybe in the game of life my feelings are my foe

I’ve loved this boy for years, but some types of love are dang’rous

There are times when I write him down, make memories more flav’rous

I’m not finding a conclusion, these thoughts may have no end

But determined I have been for months, these feelings to forfend

I think that those around us must harbour no objection

But guessing at unconcerned minds has long been my deflection

How do I discern between affection and attraction

If I guess wrong how damaging’s the action

To guess wrong may damage us forever

If I hurt him bad enough there’ll be no better weather

I do not want to love like this, but I fear I still do

“But of course you guys are dating, I mean just look at you”

I know we seem in close, I don’t hide myself round others

But that doesn’t mean their views can override my druthers

While arranged as we are now, nothing can amount

From any romantic tensions others feel there is about

I admit that our arrangement in one I’m eager to change

But for my own sense of adventure do I wish to rearrange

Perhaps I’m in denial, I know I have no fear

Of a friendship interrupted from how it was here

I love him, yes. I miss him? No. I simply am confused

From having my own feelings on the matter be abused.

[anatee]

Bloody Skywalker | Pt. 2 | Anakin x Reader

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Obi-Wan knew that putting two young people together would result in too many emotions to handle, yet he just stood there and watched it all unfold for years. The most interesting things, however, are happening right where he can’t see the bloody Skywalker.

Content: Anakin x Female!Padawan!reader, bits of angst, fluff, no mature content (yet 😏), Revenge of the Sith references

Word count: 3.2K

There’ll be a part 3! Tagging as requested @50svibes​  @ssophiebirkas​

Time was flowing agonisingly slowly while she was anticipating that meeting. She had her own obligations to focus on, yet found herself constantly thinking about the upcoming event. Every time she and Anakin met on the roof, they could talk heart-to-heart, and these were the conversations that partly made her fall for him. They stopped them when he got together with Padme, even before Y/N knew about it, which only confirmed it was something really intimate.

When the time came, she felt extremely nervous yet excited at the same time. She thought she was early, but Anakin was already there - standing by the barrier and enjoying the view. She had to take a deep breath before getting his attention, but he had already sensed her - and turned to face her first.

"Hi." He beamed, standing there without the robe, but just in the outfit he always wore underneath it. With his hair a bit ruffled by the wind, and his toned body leaning against the railing, he was as dreamy as he could, making her weak in her knees.

"Hi," she replied, taking another deep breath. "I suppose neither of us wanted to be late, huh?" she added, hoping to release the tension.

"We're both in time for the night views. Come, take a look."

She approached him and leaned against the barrier, too, making sure she didn't touch him in the process. He seemed to notice it, but didn't comment, keeping that few inches long distance between them.

For a moment, they stood there in silence, enjoying the views, but the atmosphere was definitely tense, and they could both feel it. When it became too much to handle, Y/N spoke:

"You know, I miss Naboo at times. The landscapes, I mean. But... Coruscant at night is breathtaking, too. Certainly has some..." She turned to glance at him. "Views to enjoy," she added, then quickly looked away, realising what she'd said.

"We can agree on this," he replied, also looking at her. A shiver went down her spine, and she wasn't sure if he noticed.

"You're so cheesy I can't stand you." She rolled her eyes, smacking him on the arm.

"You started!" he argued, and they both started laughing as they smacked and poked each other teasingly, as if they were just kids again. As the laughter started dying down, Anakin suddenly grabbed her wrists gently to stand opposite her and look into her eyes, causing her to stiffen.

"Y/N, there are no words to express how much I've missed you," he admitted, still breathing heavily. "And all of this."

"Me too," she replied before she could think about it, but it was the truth. "But you know... I didn't want to... Make things awkward. I mean, if I had a boyfriend like you..."

"What do you mean like me?"

At this point Y/N thought that it would be best if someone just severed her tongue before she talked to Anakin at all.

"I'm not going to compliment you because I won't hear the end of it," she said, freeing her wrists from his hands. "The point is, I wouldn't want some random girl hanging out with my boyfriend so much."

"You're not a random girl. You've never been," he replied, making her heart skip a beat yet again. "But I understand what you're saying."

Y/N turned away from him once again to be able to calm down.

"While we're at it... Has anything changed? How are you feeling?" she asked, not looking at him.

"I haven't been better in a long time. And you? Tell me you don't want to leave the Order anymore."

She took another deep breath. "No, I don't."

"I'm so glad," he admitted, still looking at her while she was trying to avoid his gaze. "I was so scared. This place wouldn't be the same without you."

She didn't comment, afraid she might embarrass herself even further. Instead, she really focused on the view, the sparkling lights of the night reflecting in Anakin's eyes she tried not to look at.

"You know, I almost forgot how beautiful it can be around here."

"That's why I hope we can come back to meeting here."

"Because of the view?" she asked just to say something, not expecting his answer at all.

"Because of you."

Y/N turned her head to look at him, more confused than ever. These weren't even jokes anymore and she didn't know how to react. What was he saying?

They were standing opposite each other again, closer than before. A small, almost shy smile didn't disappear from Anakin's face as he carefully put his hands on her shoulders, sending shivers through her body.

"You look beautiful," he admitted, and she closed her eyes as if in pain.

"Oh, why did you have to say that..."

"I'm sorry. That's just what I see," he replied, unaware of what exactly he was apologising for. "I know I've never told you this before, but I have always thought that."

At that moment, Y/N didn't even know what to think anymore. Her heart was racing, but she tried to stay conscious and not miss anything he was saying. The Force was tingling inside her as if hinting that something was about to happen.

"Oh, I just remembered... That guy... The one you fell in love with..." Anakin began suddenly, lowering his head.

"Anakin, he doesn't exist," she cut him off, panicking. "No, I mean, he does, but... Oh, can we just pretend like I've never said that?"

Anakin could sense even through the Force how nervous and clearly embarrassed she was. He wasn't sure whether to drop the subject or try to help her...

"Y/N, if something's wrong, you can always talk to me..."

"Nothing's wrong," she whispered, but it was a lie, and she couldn't even look into his eyes as she said that.

"But you know I can sense it, right?" he said with sincere concern. "Oh, Y/N, just come here," he added as he opened his arms to envelope her with them, causing her to hold her breath.

They've never hugged. Not like this.

It was so warm and comforting, and of course she didn't want it to end, but at the same time she was panicking. This embrace wasn't helping her case, if anything, it was worsening it, making her wish he would hug her like this more often.

"Better?" he asked quietly as he pulled her even closer, so close she could hear his heartbeat, and if that wasn't only making her fall harder...

"Better. Thank you," she replied, sighing. "But we should stop, someone might see us," she added quickly, taking a step back that clearly took him by surprise.

"We're not doing anything wrong," he said, and she could swear she saw something gleam in his eyes when he did, sounding a bit darker than usual.

Well, if I weren't falling in love with you as we went, then yes, we wouldn't be.

"You're not exactly the one to trust when it comes to rules," she said with a chuckle, once again trying to relieve the tension.

"Oi, don't act like you've never broken them," he retorted and she sighed again.

I'm breaking them every time I see you.

"Obi-Wan says it's you who demoralised me," she said truthfully, leaning herself against the barrier again.

"He didn't stop me, though," Anakin said proudly, and they both laughed again.

"And you don't seem ashamed at all!"

"Hey, but what did I do? Only made you race with me once or twice..."

"Or twenty times." She nudged him with her elbow.

"It's not like I put a lightsaber to your throat, you agreed to it."

"But if you weren't there, I would have never even thought of such races."

"But you enjoyed them!" he argued teasingly, and both of them were unbelievably happy that the atmosphere changed to such a relaxed one. "And now we don't race because you know you can't defeat me."

Y/N smacked him in the head with no hesitation.

"Hey!" he yelled in surprise.

"Not everyone was piloting aircrafts from the moment they were born!" She smacked him again, leaving him flabbergasted. "I only wanted to grow plants and stuff!"

A cocky smile quickly appeared on his face.

"But if you stayed on Naboo growing plants, you wouldn't be here with me now.... And isn't now a better option?"

Her first instinct was to say yes immediately, but then she realised...

If she had stayed on Naboo, at least she would have never fallen in love with him. But then, when they were there together, laughing, teasing each other, relaxed...

"Maybe it is," she admitted. "And maybe I just like you too much, bloody Skywalker," she added quietly, avoiding his gaze again. It was somehow therapeutic to tell him this without him knowing what she actually meant.

The cockiness on Anakin's face turned into sincere happiness as he grabbed her hand again, making sure to use his real hand instead of the metal one.

"Me too," he replied, and before she could melt into a puddle right then and there, she cackled, crossing her arms.

"Oh, yes, you definitely like yourself too much."

"Hey, you know that's not what I meant!" 

They began laughing again, hysterically at that, not having felt this relaxed for ages - and they would be doing this for much longer if it weren't for a familiar voice that interrupted.

"There you are."

They immediately composed themselves and looked to their side - Obi-Wan was approaching them with a small smile on his face.

"Oh," Y/N cackled one last time, then took a deep breath to calm down. "Hello, Master."

"It's nice to see you two in high spirits," he said, then looked pointedly at Y/N, as if asking how things were. She replied with a face that clearly said everything was alright, even if it wasn't.

"Nice to see you too, Master," Anakin replied with exaggerated happiness.

"I have news. Anakin, it was decided that we'll be trying to rescue the Chancellor in a few days."

"Finally," he said eagerly.

"And am I going?" Y/N asked, and Obi-Wan frowned.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. We're taking the best at piloting."

"Oh, of course." She laughed, then patted Anakin on his shoulder. "And here we have the best pilot of the Galaxy."

"At least you're admitting that now," he said proudly and she shook her head.

"Shut up or I'll use the Force to do it."

"You two are still kids, aren't you?" Obi-Wan shook his head, too. "I want to leave you to yourselves, but who knows? Maybe you'll blow up the temple if I leave?"

"Oh, Master Kenobi. You know I am responsible," Y/N claimed, giggling.

"But are you responsible enough to handle him?"

"Are you both against me?" Anakin asked, pretending to be outraged. This was when Y/N seized the opportunity and walked a little to stand next to Obi-Wan.

"What do you say, Master Kenobi?"

"I can't believe this." Anakin stared at both of them, then sent Y/N a look that made her want to shout at him for doing it next to Kenobi. No matter what his intentions were, his gaze was so suggestive it made her feel hotter. Obi-Wan, however, seemed to have missed it.

Soon they returned to the temple and all in all, that evening turned out to be much nicer than Y/N anticipated. Her nerves were gone and she was eager to meet with Anakin yet again, this time ready to talk to him, even if her feelings were still devouring her from the inside.

However, on the night before Anakin's departure, things went downhill. Fear filled up her heart and the scariest visions - mostly those of Anakin dying - began to haunt her. This was when she began wondering... If she were to never see him again, maybe she should confess to him?

Would it haunt her forever if she didn't?

Unexplainable were the feelings that led her to his bedroom that night. The moment she saw his door, however, reality washed over her. It was ridiculous.

Little did she know Anakin wasn't asleep, either. He was staring into the ceiling above his bed, thinking about the upcoming mission, when suddenly something disturb his thoughts.

A familiar voice, echoing in his head... It didn't take him much to realise it was Y/N's voice.

Her thoughts were so full of fear and so loud he could hear them through the Force even without intending it. She was close, and he really wanted to know why.

"No, I can't go to him, this is so stupid... Why did I even come here? Why would I even tell him? I can't tell him the truth..."

These words ignited his curiosity even more. He left his bed quickly, then walked to the door even faster as he could feel she began walking away.

"Y/N," he said, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.

"Anakin?" She gulped, turning to see him, and then she immediately gulped again when she realised he was shirtless. "Oh, what are you doing here?" she asked as if she didn't expect him to be there at all.

"I sensed you. And I know you came to see me."

Her heart dropped. He couldn't have heard, could he?

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you. You have the mission tomorrow, so I'll just go back to bed now, good night."

Anakin wasn't going to let it go and he used the Force to pull her back towards himself, causing her to gasp.

"Y/N, tell me why you came." He put his hands on her shoulders as she tried not to stare at his bare chest. "You know I would never... I don't know, do anything to harm you in any way. Why are you scared?"

She didn't have any response to this. Looking down, she just hoped it could just pass...

"Come inside, let's talk." He gestured towards his room, then let her in before closing the door.

Another silence enveloped them, one that Anakin wasn't going to endure.

"After our meeting on the roof, I thought we were okay again?" he asked and she just gave up.

"Kriff, I'm just scared for you, okay?" she said eventually, dropping her hands. "I'm devastated by the thought that you might die during this mission. And now more than ever I regret all these moments when I was avoiding you. That's it."

That was not it, of course, it was just part of the truth, but already more than she had intended to tell him.

Anakin's expression softened immediately. His heart fluttered at these words, and he thought it was high time he stopped lying to himself, too.

He moved closer to her. "Oh, Y/N..."

"I know I should be used to this as a Jedi, but..."

"Shhh," he whispered, then suddenly cupped her face to make her look at him. Warmth filled her up immediately; she didn't expect that of him, but at this point it was only between them and the darkness around... 

"I understand. I will be scared for you, too," he admitted. "But I will come back safe. And with the Chancellor. I assure you."

"Promise me?" she asked before she could stop herself and he nodded, smiling softly.

"I could promise you this and much more."

Everything was getting warmer - her body, the atmosphere, the air in the smallest gap between them, the hands that were still holding her face. They were both looking into each other's eyes with their hearts racing, the Force tingling them as if trying to foreshadow that something was about to happen.

"I trust you, Skywalker."

"And I'm... So happy to hear that." Anakin's gaze suddenly wandered to her lips... And they have never been closer.

"Y/N, maybe before I go..." he began quietly. "Maybe I should do something I should've done much earlier."

"What is it?" she asked, almost shivering under his touch.

His eyes wandered to her lips again, and then it happened so suddenly she didn't have time to stop him: he kissed her, full on the lips, bringing her as close to himself as possible.

And at that point, nothing else mattered as she responded to the kiss, deepening it immediately when she put her hands on his bare chest for support. Her heart was racing faster than ever, even though her mind hadn't registered what was happening yet. Her body seemed to be acting on its own, knowing that the only thing it wanted was him. It was electrifying; they were lost in each other, and neither of them cared about anything else other than the person before them.

But when Y/N’s back hit the door under the pressure of his kiss, she woke up.

"Anakin, we can't," she almost cried, pushing him away from her with as much force as she could.

"Did you not want that?" he asked in disbelief, his heart shattering just a little when he saw the look on his face.

He had realised how he really felt about her a long time ago and wanted to prepare her for it a bit more delicately, but since the opportunity came... He just could not let it go.

"It's not about what I want, it's... We can't." She was saying all of this with a knot in her heart, knowing very well how much she wanted to stay with him right then and there, and give into the night. "I'm sorry, I... Have a safe mission," she added and before he could stop her, left the room as quickly as possible.

Anakin stood in the same place for the moment, as if glued to the ground, then plopped onto his bed with his head hung low.

He knew they weren't supposed to do this. But if so... Then why did it feel so right when their lips met mere minutes ago?

Now he knew the mission was the least of his concerns.

Y/N was walking as fast as she could back to her bedroom, running almost, holding back tears of frustration. That kiss, that few seconds were the most blissful seconds of her entire life, the happiest she's been in months, maybe years even... And yet, she wasn't allowed to feel this ever again.

Maybe the Jedi weren't as perfect as she had perceived them... If they didn't even allow happiness.

Eventually, she couldn't hold it back anymore - she stopped in one of the corridors and let the tears flow, her sobs echoing in the sleeping Jedi temple. With her face covered, she didn't even notice she had company.

"No need to cry there is."

Y/N almost jumped at Yoda's voice. She looked up and wiped her tears at once, composing herself.

"Oh, Master Yoda." She bowed slightly. "I didn't expect you here."

Yoda gazed at her searchingly.

"Conflicted you are, I sense."

She knew there was no use in lying.

"Yes. A lot," she whispered, not looking at him, and he fell silent for a moment.

"Take a break you should," he said eventually. "So many bad emotions the way to the dark side are."

She nodded, bowing again and thinking that a break might really help her.

"I will, Master."

[pudding-parade]

So, I’ve decided to give the Random Legacy Challenge a go. I’m not sure if you’re supposed to do a roll for the founding generation, but I wanted to, so here we are. The pic might be too small to read, so here’s what I got and some other stuff about this...

My founding family structure is to be a single parent with “help.” I’ve decided I’m going to create two siblings (my RNG decided on a brother and sister), and then one of them has to have a kid. I only have to have one kid in this generation, so there’ll be zero “tension” about who gets to be the first heir, but that’s fine.

One sibling gets the Military career, the other gets Law Enforcement. I kind of like the Law Enforcement career, and I can’t  remember if I’ve ever played the Military career, so that’s all fine.

I did a separate roll to determine the type of party to throw for the generational goal, and got “Event Party.” I honestly can’t remember if I’ve ever thrown a party in TS3. I have a mod that turns off the endless invitations to parties because I find them annoying, so my Sims don’t generally attend them, but I can’t remember if I’ve thrown one. I did in TS2 on occasion, but it wasn’t something I was big on. Maybe it’ll be different for TS3. I’m thinking a birthday party for the kid, maybe. 

And “Runs in the Family” is just having the kids (in this case only one) inherit a parent’s trait. Which is something that I sometimes do in my regular playing anyway, so nothing new there.

So there’s that. I think it’ll be fun to have siblings instead of a couple, and the rest is fine. Hopefully it’ll be fun. I do plan to bump up the possibility of alien abduction/pregnancy in this save via the Abductor mod, so hopefully that will add some randomness. And maybe it’ll mean that the brother in the founding pair will be the one to birth a kid. We’ll see.

I’ve decided to use Meadow Glen for my world, partly because it has all the rabbitholes for the careers in it, but mostly because it’s my favorite pre-built world. (I was going to use Storybrook County, but then I remembered how much I dislike playing in high rise buildings and apartments in general, if for no other reason than that NPCs constantly get stuck in them.) I’m currently editing a copy of Meadow Glen a bit to get rid of houses that won’t be useful (like larger ones with only one bedroom) and replacing them with others, adding a couple houseboats, adding stuff to the festival lot, doing some general tweaks to the community lots, etc.. I’m also getting rid of all the palm trees in the world because it’s going to have a climate that wouldn’t support palm trees. In fact, I’m making a brand-new Tempest preset for it. (Which I’ll share, of course.) 

I’m going to use 15-day seasons (broken out in Tempest into three five-day-long “months” each), and a life span based on four Sim-days per year with realistically-proportioned life stage lengths. Those lengths are:

Baby = 4 days. Toddler = 12 days. Child = 36 days. Teen = 24 days. YA = 68 days. Adult = 120 days. Elder = 68 days

This is much longer than recommended for the challenge, but it’s the lifespan I typically use in my playing unless I’m using a much longer one. (It’s the same lifespan I’m using in the “Clueless Jaime” save.) It gives time for kids to be kids and for adults to reach their goals and such without me feeling rushed. I use NRaas Relativity to slow down the rate of skilling to match, things like that. So, it’ll move slowly, but that’s what I like.

All that said, if you’re interested in seeing what I do with this, there’ll be posts soonish, once I finish the world-editing, finish the Tempest preset, and make the founders. I’m still going to be playing Clueless Jaime and the “tribal” save, too. I like to hop between saves because it makes it more likely that I’ll stick with all of them. This one will just be added to the mix.

[phoeebsbuffay]

Imagine “Star Wars” special edition: Jane Eyre.

Sweet desires.

Imagine you just left a school for girls in Coruscant as a governess. You are then hired by Mr Vader to teach his twins, Leia and Luke. What happens next? Part II.

Warnings: drama. Another part is going because I carried away again.

Recommendations: “St Jude” by Florence + the Machine.

***

Your POV.

It’s early. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but you are too restless for your bed. You dress a yellow gown and let your hair loose; since it is early, you suppose all in the household are asleep. Thus, you don’t think there’ll be no trouble to leave like that. It’s a risk, but the energy in you is too much to hold it back such an unusual want.

You hold a candle and then leave your quarters. Like a ghost, you almost float through the stairs, going outside in order to breathe the clean air. The shock between the cool temperature outside and the warmth environment you left is inevitable, giving you chills.

But you step into the mist, imperceptible, invisible. How strange that being there makes you feel like home. The silence, however, does not last long; you are taken aback when a male voice interrupts the serenity of your thoughts.

“Isn’t it not too early for you, Miss Y/N? What business I wonder brings you here in such an hour?”

The awkwardness upon which you are discovered by the man who intrigues you and whose aura you hardly have the time to contemplate entirely in a moment where you believed not to disturb anyone, makes you turn around. However, you don’t see him. The mist hides him away from your eyes, but you feel his presence nonetheless.

“Sir, do forgive me, I did not intend to…”

“There is little use to excuse your actions.” He cuts you, and the blush in your face deepens. You begin to try to tangle your long hair as the mist starts to low down and the man in black cape appears before your sight at long last. “These gardens are for your use as well.”

You don’t know what to say. You lower your eyes, heart racing as Mr Vader moves from one side to another, never too far from you. Your chest is heavy with an inexplicable tension.

“I… I thought I’d not…” you choke with words, they never seem so useless to you as they are now.

You hear his chuckle.

“You strike me like a bird who for a very long time was caged and now looks beyond the horizons for a chance to fly.” Mr Vader turns at you. You are sent chills by his closeness. “Am I mistaken in perceiving you so?”

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” You raise your head, slowly turning it to seek for his eyes. For a moment you believe to have perceived a pair of yellow irises staring at you, but how fast the gaze breaks makes you doubt of what you see.

“Oh, so it appears I have entertained a different idea in regards to you, of who you are.” Mr Vader laughs quietly.

He still surrounds you, and you detest to feel like you are a prey about to fall in the traps of a hunter. However, to deny the abrupt spark that seems to ignite each time in your heart is to incur in foolishness. But your pride and your inexperience in such matters can mislead you.

“What that would be, sir?” You tangle one hand to the other. “If your expectations remain the same of when we first met, then I lament to disappoint you.”

The man in dark cape stands behind you. You swallow, but for some reason you don’t fear him.

“How so?”

“You will not get anything celestial of me, any more than I shall get it of you: which I do not at all anticipate.” You turn abruptly to search for his eyes. There they are, the very same yellow ones you spotted minutes before. “And yet it is I who should wonder who you are. The idea I have of you does not let me sleep at night.”

“Is it so? You are such a rare individuality, Miss Y/N. There is good and bad in you.” Mr Vader leans to whisper in your ear. “Though I hardly believe you are a child of the Sith.”

Your cheeks burn.

“You’ve entered my mind. Mr Vader, I must protest.”

“Would you have willingly given me the truth when asked?”

As you tut to answer, he chuckles.

“I needed to know whether you are reliable or not.”

You understand what is not spoken: for the safety of his children. Would you be the best judge of that? Certainly not. You would’ve done the same had you been in his shoes.

“Well, I pray I am worthy of your trust.”

You think you see him smirk, but you don’t know.

“You are, indeed, too pure for this world, Y/N. We live in a planet ruled by the Sith and your concern is my trust.”

“You should not disdain of my perceptions about life, Sir. I am trying to survive.”

You detect an irony taking a shape in his thoughts, ready to booster in his tongue, perhaps aiming to hurt you.

“You see yourself as a bad man, but are you, sir? If it is the case that you are perceived as such, if all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”

There is silence that stands in between them again. You slowly move forward to where he is, shortening the distance between you two. You stand your hand, ready to touch his cape and remove it to spot his identity. However, he grips your wrist and holds it.

“Your innocence blinds you, Y/N. Maybe ignorance is a blessing for you.”

And just like that he drops your wrist and walks off, leaving you behind feeling cold for the very first time.

***

Mr Vader’s POV.

He continues watching you. And interfering only he is impelled to. Mr. Vader’s got used to you, your merry presence that seems to dissipate each day the shadows of a longing gloom that grips onto his manor.

The man’s yellow eyes are exceedingly attentive to the impact you have in his twins: how Leia follows you everywhere, seeing you as the mother she never had; trying to reproduce your mannerisms, from your hairstyle to your vesture code. Luke too is always aiming to please you, showing you what he’s learnt from your lessons, acquiring too by extent not only your sharp wit but your sweet disposition.

He once heard the following conversation.

“My dad is a good man, Miss Y/N. He’s been often misunderstood.” Luke was telling you.

“I sense that too. I do not believe that people are entirely bad that no good can come out from someone. And even if they are, they are misleading.”

“You know what I think?” Leia meddled in the conversation. “That he needs you in his life, miss Y/N.”

“Yes!” Luke exclaimed excitedly. “Leia, you gave us a brilliant idea!”

“I am often the master mind behind our plans, brother dear.” She said with a smug on his face.

Vader sensed your embarrassment. You were about to protest, vehemently so, when he walked in. Then the room fell silent.

*

He knows you’ve been prompted to wake earlier, an habit he soon takes part. That is how he befriends you. But even if Mr Vader does trust in you, you have not yet seen his face.

“I sense the Force in you.” Mr Vader says one day.

“You, sir, are wrong.” The words come out so naturally that you don’t even realize. “I never possessed such a thing in me.”

He moves to where you stand and says:

“I rarely make mistakes, Y/N. You should have been trained as a Jedi instead of a governess. How powerful wouldn’t you become?”

You lift your head to see the pair of yellow irises meeting the y/c that paints yours.

“I care very little to naught when it comes to power. Where it is true I aim freedom, to see beyond the horizon so often limited to women like me, I do however content myself with who I’ve become.” You smile at him. “Do you not miss the simplicity of things, sir? I know you are not entirely bad as you like to present yourself.”

“You speak what you do not know.” Mr Vader shakes his head. “To many I am either lost or dead, Y/N.”

You are about to respond him otherwise when Mr Vader is summoned by Mrs H/N, claiming there is a letter for you. There is some awkwardness since both of you seem to have missed the breakfast and Mrs H/N is clearly wondering why you are at Mr Vader’s presence when he stated otherwise.

“Leave her be, Mrs H/N.” Says he. “I’ve summoned her to discuss some purposes that go beyond your understanding.”

The letter is given to you and Vader’s attention draws back to you. Reading your expressions and your thoughts, he is taken by an immediate concern.

“What is it, Y/N? You look troubled.”

You lower the letter after ending it and say:

“My aunt requests my presence. She is dying. May I have your permission to visit her?”

“I am surprised that after all she’s done to you, you consider attending her wishes.” He says.

You smile at him, so candid doing so.

“Sir, I’ve long forgiven her for her doings.”

Mr Vader sighs.

“Do you intend to go back?”

It’s right when you take his hand and he does not let go. For the first in a very long time, Vader allows you doing so. A sensation that is so good, so blissful, to feel your warm against his cold skin. That particular day, there are no gloves to impede him to reach out for you.

Curiously, Mr Vader is not letting go of your hand. He wants more of you, a strange and mostly unwelcoming urge that seems to resist reason.

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

You give him a squeeze in his gentle. A gesture that, simple as it may be, provides the comfort he is in need.

“I’m always coming back for you.” You assure him.

***

Your POV.

The moment you depart the manor and go back to your aunt’s household—the very same place you swore never to return—you feel an inexplicable misery take possess of your heart. You miss him.

How could it be explained this sensation so similar to grief? You haven’t seen his face for the last two years, but somehow you feel already… attached. To who he is, to the good you sense in him beneath the tons of melancholy and angst that are use to mask it.

I better expurge this sentiment off me.

Not only it is far from ethical to let whatever this is to develop towards your employer, but it is not typical of you to, uh, nurture an affection to a Sith Lord.

Yes, now you come to realize it. As you take your luggage from the carriage and start going to the house that never felt like a home to you, you start to pick up the pieces.

Yet, you stand by what you believe. What did you tell Luke the other day? That no one is that bad that can not find a spark of good inside. It makes you smile because of the countless moments you’ve witnessed him being such a good and tender father to the children you’ve grown to love.

Why am I thinking about them? Concentrate, Y/N. You must not harbor any kind of romantic feeling for the man. Specially a Sith Lord.

You sigh. Decided to bury deep inside such sentiments of affection, you now occupy yourself in meeting the woman who’ve always been more like an enemy than a family.

*

It is at least unique to you that you experience your own drama in the midst of bigger events that are shaking Coruscant. Nonetheless, no Sith Lord, no Emperor or whatever good force that is out there to resist the dark forces can help you now.

As your aunt lies close to dying, new truths come out to you. Your cousin joined the Sith in your absence, much to his mother’s consternation, and died serving the cause to the emperor when prosecuting the rebels. His sisters were married away, but, by a misfortune, one died in childbirth and the other is in a far away galaxy. All leads rather reluctantly to you. Because you’re the closest relative.

“Aunt.” You address her, pitying her poor state. You are half heartily expecting to her her regrets about those years where she treated you unkindly.

“Y/N.” Even close to death she remains proud. “What have you become? You creature of the Sith should’ve been sent to them.”

The accusation still hurts you.

“Why’d you say such a thing?” You cannot help but wonder.

“Your father was a vile man. It’s from him you’ve inherited all of this…” she coughs. “But since you are here, it’s still in you. It is only by law I am commanded to give you this inheritance.”

“If I recall, this was all you got by marriage to my uncle.” You remind her bitterly. “Hence why I am here.”

“You insolent girl.”

You try to sympathize with her, but admittedly the offenses attributed to you only hurt you more. In the end, though, as she comes to give her last breath you say:

“You know what, aunt? I frankly wish you well. Because when you get to the other side, a miserable conscience is all you will have. I pray the Maker you are in good terms with yourself. I shall not get myself to the same level as you are. But what you gave me… You are giving it back.”

One last agonizing look at you and she chokes. Where before there was life in her eyes, now there is no more. You put your hands around your face and weep.

Not because of her death, but what she did in life to you. Forced to deal with your demons, it seems you are surrounded by every sort of misery. The agent of Empire watches you emotionless, obliged to witness everything before acknowledging the transference of the credits and all else to you.

“Looks like you are rich now, Miss Y/LN.”

You don’t pay him attention until the door is open and a cold breeze steps inside. It’s when you simply know it’s him. But your spirits are too shaken to associate his presence to the fact he may have followed you. Or that the agent of the Empire had contacted him for purposes beyond your knowledge.

What you are thankful for is that he’s there for you. Before Mr Vader takes a seat by your side, you hold him close.

“I’m here, dear one. I wouldn’t let you go through this by yourself.” He rubs your back.

“She does seem to think I’m a Sith somehow.” You sob. “Whatever have I done for being treated as such?!”

“If you were one, I don’t think we’d be in this place”, he muses it; you can feel the side smirk on his lips, picturing the sarcasm in his tongue matching in his yellow eyes. “She is dead now, though. She cannot hold power over you anymore. Let her go.”

By saying so, he senses the anger building inside you. He does neither encourage or discourage you, rather comforting you. In fact, Mr Vader comes to realize that to see you distressed makes his heart ache.

You cling onto him as you weep. But eventually, when you raise, his hood had fallen—and perhaps he’d not even notice.

What you see scares and amazes you at the same time. Slowly, you touch his face, your fingertips stroking his cheek. Your eyes linger at his golden curls, the scar over his left eye and a few others under his neck.

“You see me.”

You smile, acknowledging him at last.

“Yes, Mr. Vader, I see you.”

“You don’t fear me?” He inquires you, perplexed.

“No.”

You hold his hand tightly as your eyes lock. His chest goes up and down in tension, but you lean your head against him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever feared you, Mr. Vader.”

(To be continue)