#it is less of an excited happiness more of a quiet but elated smile

[everydaygremlin]

Curls up on you and starts purring

:D!!!! KITTY!!!

[chelseeebe]

and they said, speak now

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of cheating. femreader!xeddie. no use of y/n!

a little second chance romance story wherein eddie is invited to your wedding, though he’s hopeful that it’ll never actually happen.

a/n: wanted to get this finished so i could start writing a follow up for too sweet (bc i love it and i love mean asshole eddie) so i hope it bridges some sort of gap while i write :p switches pov a lil bit but it’s all marked out 4 ya.

“-gettin’ married to who?” eddie spits, barreling into the living room with a mouthful of cereal.

steve looks up from the paper invite and shrugs, “mark?” mouthing a quiet i don’t know as robin looks between the two.

“and i’m invited?”

“i mean.. it says all of us so..” he looks up at eddie, “do you even want to go?” dubious at eddie’s overly keen questioning.

eddie’s bewildered that he’d even ask, “‘course we’re fucking going,” shaking his head, still gripping onto his bowl of cereal, “i didn’t even know she was datin’ anybody else.. what the fuck.”

robin shares a look with her best friend, thinking eddie hasn’t seen. he knows exactly what they’re not saying. it doesn’t exactly need to be spelled out for him.

perhaps eddie hadn’t ever really gotten over it. it being you leaving to new york for college, breaking up with him in the process.

maybe they were justified in their judgemental glances, it’d been years since you’d left. he should be over it by now. evidently, you’ve moved on. why hadn’t he?

but he wasn’t and now he’s not sure if he’ll ever be.

-

the five of them shovel into jonathan’s car, robin squished between eddie and steve in the back with their bags piled high in the trunk.

eddie stares out of the window, he had started to regret agreeing to go. his ex-girlfriend, whom he wasn’t exactly over, was getting married to some fuckhead he’d never met and now he had to go and wear a suit and pretend to be happy about it all.

“i still can’t believe she’s getting fucking married,” he grumbles into his fist.

robin grins, nudging her elbow into steve’s ribcage, “oh this going to be so much fun,” elated at his misery.

jonathan sighs quietly, throwing his head back against the seat and slyly turning the volume up so as to not hear any more of eddie’s whining.

there’d been months of it, so he’s not surprised.

-

eddie is fucking elated to reach the hotel, gawping at the grand exterior as they get out of the car, stretching their legs after the long trip.

“jeez,” robin utters, staring at the tall building with her mouth hung open, “at least she’s marrying rich, hey?” wiggling her brows at eddie’s less than excited face.

he doesn’t rise to it, ignoring her obvious attempts to get him riled up.

it’s even nicer inside, gold plated ornaments decorate the walls, outdated paintings of old people he didn’t care to know, joining them.

they’re in the process of checking in when a familiar voice comes from behind, a small, meek, “hey guys!”

it’s you.

they spin, sharing tired smiles as you stand looking horrifically awkward. like somehow you hadn’t shared years and years of history with every single person here.

everyone else gets a short, half hug, exchanging niceties while eddie waits patiently for his turn. he doesn’t think you’ll even acknowledge him.

but your eyes lock, that same sinking feeling that he felt all those years ago as he watched your car pull out of hawkins plagues his stomach.

“hey,” you nod, tense as you open your arms for a hug.

it’s more than he’d ever expected, now finding himself stuck, unable to embrace the situation. you’re exactly the same and yet he feels like he doesn’t recognise you. barely touched by the graces of age, still the same girl he was sure he still loved.

eventually he pulls himself together, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to pull you in.

fuck.

you even smell the same. the heavy vanilla scent of your shampoo wafts through the air, transporting him back in time to nights shared in his cramped room, talking about the future together and how you couldn’t wait to get out of hawkins.

it’s utterly ironic, and not to mention heartbreaking, to think about now.

“hi,” eddie musters, sounding as pathetic as he felt.

the others watch on in anticipation, expecting a screaming match only to be met with whatever the fuck this was. dancing around each other like two complete strangers.

“how.. uh, how was the drive?” you ask, fiddling with your fingers, the way you used to when you were nervous.

“long,” he smiles meekly.

there’s too much he wants to say, desperately wanting to just shake you and ask what the hell you’re doing getting married to someone who’s not him.

besides, four sets of eyes watch both of you eagerly, hoping for an argument or maybe the exact opposite.

“there you are!” a gruff voice bellows, coming out of the mouth of the most insufferable looking man eddie’s ever seen.

he walks over with his shit-eating grin, taking you away from eddie’s grasp, leaving an aching in his fingertips.

your brows shoot upward, sighing softly, “everyone, this is mark.. mark, these are my..” your eyes dip, unable to meet eddie’s gaze, “friends.”

mark’s hand extends towards eddie, grinning like a complete fool as he shakes it. “nice to meet you man! heard so much about you,” his grip tight, squeezing the tired bones in his hand.

eddie wonders if he’s asserting his dominance, if you’d told him who exactly he was. about all those years you spent as his girlfriend. about how he used to make you cum in two minutes. or perhaps all the times you swore that if you had to get married, it’d be to him.

eddie doesn’t count on it.

-

eddie waits. and he waits. and he waits.

pacing the floor of his room, contemplating if he truly had the nerve to stalk the halls to your room or if he’d have to sit here and regret it forever.

fuck it, he thinks. there’s no guarantee he’ll even knock on the door, he just needs to get out of here and at least try to.

eddie’s acutely aware that nothing he says to you will change your mind in fact, he thinks you’ll more than likely slam the door in his face.

but he’s gotta try.

- reader’s pov -

it’s a quiet knock, barely audible as you toss and turn.

you debate even answering, too caught up in your nerves to care about some bridesmaid complaining about her dress or your mother prattling on about the floral arrangements again.

but then they knock again, louder this time though it sounds more unsure, a hesitant wrap of the knuckles, pulling yourself from the comfort of your blanket to see what they wanted.

you hardly register who the person is before immediately wanting to slam the door in his face.

“what are you doing?” you hiss through the small gap in the door, noting that it was somewhere between 11 and midnight.

“i wanna talk,” eddie frowns, carefully wedging his foot between the door, as if you wouldn’t immediately notice.

“we don’t need to talk,” you refute, scowling at your batshit crazy ex.

he sighs, looking around the empty corridor, knowing he shouldn’t be here right now. “can we.. i just wanna talk.. that’s it,” his eyes wide and begging.

you take pity on him, you always did when he had that pathetic frown on his face. like a dejected puppy that needed you to cradle him.

something in your head screams out to just close the door, it’s a terrible idea and you know it.

alas, you pull it open a few more inches, giving him the chance to slide inside before it’s shut again, turning the lock immediately.

if anyone were to walk in, your relationship would be ruined, tomorrow would just be a waste of money and you’d be a social pariah in your circles.

“why didn’t you tell me that you were getting married?”

the nerve to ask that question like he deserved an explanation. you haven’t even seen the man in years and yet, he feels as if he’s owed something from you.

“i didn’t know i had to,” you shrug, standing a few feet away from him, hoping to keep the distance.

eddie scowls, brows knitted into a line across his forehead, “you don’t- i thought we were friends.. friends tell each other those things.”

“you haven’t seen me in years eddie!” raising your voice despite being surrounded by your friends and family. “what gives you the right to march in here and ask me that?” stepping closer with every word, taken aback by his sheer nerve.

his eyes harden, jaw tense, “you left me- you did that and then the next time i hear from you, it’s because you’re getting married? s’that not completely fucked up to you too?”

“i didn’t leave you! i went to college, like people our age are supposed to! it’s not my fault that you’d rather sit in jeff’s basement pretending to be a rockstar,” snarling your upper lip, hoping you’ll hit him right where it hurts.

if nothing else, it’s frustrating. eddie was always talking about his big dreams and how he was going to get out of hawkins once and for all, make something of himself and never look back.

but you got tired of waiting for that to happen. years and years of soon and i’m not ready’s had left you pretty hopeless for any kind of future with him.

he shakes his head, scoffing, “oh? so should i have followed you to new york? watched you change everything about yourself for some asshole?”

there’s a lump in your throat now and weirdly, not a speck of anger. at least not about his words for your fiancé. more so about his complete disregard of your feelings, the dreams you put on hold for him.

“i didn’t.. i didn’t change,” bottom lip trembling, “this is me eddie,” nostrils flaring as you skulk closer, “you just don’t know me anymore.”

“i know you better than he does,” he fires back, adams apple bobbing in his throat. a sincere, honest tone.

it only makes you more frustrated, the audacity to come here and act like this, the day before your wedding.

you laugh in his face, a maniacal cackle, “you’re deluded,” gathering all of your strength not to punch him in the face, “you should leave, before you embarrass yourself any more.”

he’s almost frantic now, grasping the air, “i’m not the one embarrassing myself here. the you i know would never want this.. what happened to that girl who promised to marry me? where’s she?”

“people change eddie! you clearly haven’t!” you hiss, prodding your finger into his chest, hoping you’ll somehow set him alight with your fingertip.

he grabs your hand, keeping it close to his heart as his frown sets in. “tell me- tell me that this is what you want, the big wedding and fucking mark and a coupl’a kids, tell me and i’ll leave,” downturned eyes, begging himself not to cry.

you want to scream, ferociously snatching your hand away from him before you turn away. sick to death of looking into his glossy chestnut eyes. loathing the feeling of your past flooding back into your brain.

a few years ago, you would’ve been certain that eddie was the one you were going to marry. marriage wasn’t something you were ever particularly interested in, your parents hadn’t been the best example. but if it had happened, it would’ve been nothing like this, maybe in the tiny chapel in hawkins, a couple years from now, a small, private ceremony with your friends and family. you’d be lying if you said you had never thought about it.

about what could’ve been.

somewhere, buried deep inside, you longed for it.

eddie doesn’t budge, hearing the sounds of his heavy breathing from behind. you can picture that stupid look on his face, pathetic and sullen as he waits for a fleck of hope.

you turn back, praying that you’ll have somehow found the strength to tell him to leave in the two seconds it takes to face him.

it doesn’t come, the lump in your throat dissipating only to be replaced with a fiery pit in your stomach.

and then a moment, where neither of you have the guts to speak any longer, in what feels like the most intense battle of eye contact you’d ever been a part of.

but it’s over as quickly as it started, both of you lurching forward at the same time, lips crashing together in a hungry kiss, finding the side of his head for leverage as his antsy hands grip your waist.

the rest is just a silent routine, one you two have been through a hundred times before.

your back crashes into the desk, pressed into the wood by his torso. a hand squeezing your thigh as you’re helped onto the surface.

the metal on your fourth finger aches, as if some higher power is attempting to intervene, to stop this mistake before it goes too far.

it’s dutifully ignored, spreading your legs to allow him between your soft thighs. the thin material of your shorts meant that you could feel everything. his cock jumping as it brushes against your heat, low grumbling into your mouth at the action.

his jacket slips from his shoulders and onto the floor, your soft hands running down the length of his arms, brushing against the tattoos you used to spend hours tracing.

eddie’s hands roam your body, between your thighs, tucking underneath the elastic of the shorts as your hips lift in unison, allowing him to pull them down.

his throat rumbles at your lack of underwear, rough denim pressed against your cunt, his erection demanding out of his jeans.

your fingers fumble with his jeans, hearing the low clink of his belt somewhere muddled between his grunting and your melodic pants.

the throbbing between your thighs becomes almost insatiable, finding your own release on the rough fabric of his jeans, sighing into his mouth, allowing his tongue to slip into yours instead.

cold fingers grip your thighs, lifting your legs so that they rest around his waist, clothed cock nudging against your heat, growling into your mouth.

your head jerks back, “my mom.. my mom’s next door..” you pant, fingers trailing over his lips, doing nothing to muffle his raspy groans.

“good,” eddie smirks, hurriedly tugging his boxers down beneath his balls, burying himself inside of your soaked cunt, “i never liked her.”

a strangled moan is all you manage in response, grabbing at the desk for a little leverage as his hips meet the back of your thighs. any anger you felt towards his insults towards your mother quickly float away, turning into static as he slides slowly in and out.

marvelling at the sight of your cunt once again envelopes around him. you’d missed that, his damn near infatuation with your pussy.

the wooden frame knocks against the wall, whatever shit you had compiled for the morning all comes tumbling down, clattering to the floor alongside your long mewls.

eddie near enough melts, fingers melding into one with your skin, filling your cunt to the hilt. a certain feeling that had never been replaced, only achieved by him and his undeniable love for your pussy.

your lips catch onto his, attempting to muffle his hoarse groans, hoping to to god that the walls were thick enough.

“missed you,” he murmurs, half into your mouth, the other vibrating against your chin as your lips connect in the most careless manner.

your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving, pressed to his as your fingers begin to loosen their grip on the desk. his pace unfaltering with utter desperation, an exhilaration he had chased for years, to no avail.

“fuck,” you whine, regretting the shaky word the second it slips out. one arm hooks around his neck, forehead resting against his as his hair begins to stick.

it’s so disgusting, so wracked with desire that you’re sure you’ll be thinking- feeling it for months.

eddie’s cock nudges against against the spot only he could ever find, his pubic bone catching against your clit. fuelling the inextinguishable fire in your stomach, only making it rise into your throat.

with every fervent thrust he’s grumbling something;

fuck, shit, love you, love you.

your legs tremble, exhausted as they sit around his zealous hips. naturally, they tighten, drawing him in closer, an incessant need to feel all of him all at once.

“you can’t.. not inside,” you pant, opening his eyes to meet his though they’re not on yours. staring starry eyed at the space between your bodies, watching as they collide in ways your heart had longed for.

he’s close, you can tell. choking on his breaths when you squeeze around him, signalling your own orgasm.

“fuck, i can’t-,” eddie howls, desperately pounding his cock into your quivering cunt, giving everything away for the last thirty seconds.

you cry out, toppling over the edge as your stomach all but bursts, the pleasure reaching every last nerve in your body. clinging to his neck with a white knuckle grip, clutching his clammy skin as your body turns to mush before him.

eddie just about manages to pull out, sliding between your slick folds before his stomach lurches, shooting thick ropes of cum onto your stomach, thighs and the desk.

your foreheads remain as one, gasping into the hot air that surrounds you.

finally, his eyes trail up toward yours, meeting with the most sorrowful look that a man who has just cum, could hold.

it’s as if reality sets in, untangling your legs to shove him away. harsh and untoward as he stumbles back, still reeling from his own orgasm.

“oh my god,” you mumble incoherently, “oh my god, i’m getting married tomorrow,” clenching your fist, shouting as if he were somehow unaware.

his silence is deafening, his release still clinging to your body as you jump from the wooden table, marching into the bathroom, swallowing the urge to cry.

eddie stands with his head hung low, belt still undone as you sanctimoniously barging back past him to redress yourself, muttering ferocious whispers to yourself.

“i’m getting married tomorrow,” you repeat, unwavering anger in your voice. undecided on whether you were telling him or yourself that fact.

“so you’re still gonna marry him?” eddie asks, a slight hint of optimism in his tone. he had reason to be, you suppose. anyone else would assume the same.

you swallow, “what else is there for me?”

getting married had been the next logical step. you had the job, the house, the sweet, timid guy that wouldn’t hurt a fly. why wouldn’t you marry him?

his face crumples, brows stitched together in confusion, “me?”

almost on instinct, your head shakes, smacking your palm into his shoulder, “no. not you. it’s not supposed to be you,” a certain sadness plaguing your tone, “it was never supposed to be you,” palm slapping into his chest.

eddie’s face falls, holding his jacket in his hands wishing you’d take it back, tell him you were lying and that you really did still love him.

buried somewhere under years of regret, you probably still did.

tears weep out of the corner of your eye, quickly wiped away with your trembling finger. “you need to leave,” eyes pointed to the floor, refusing to look at him any longer.

he sighs, hesitantly stepping around the mess you both had made and out of your peripheral view. slow steps, willing for your mouth to open and those three words to dance out of it.

the door clicks shut and you’re alone again. nauseous and wishing you had just let him stay, wanting nothing more than to be held in your insurmountable feelings of remorse.

-

you’ve barely slept, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt and indecision.

six years of work and making something of yourself had come horrifically crashing down in one night, one stupid, moronic mistake.

but was it really a mistake when your heart still aches and your lips still feel the traces of his.

a short knock breaks you from your trance, the noise you’d been dreading all night.

sarah. bright-eyed and stupidly excitable nature, ready for your wedding day.

“woah,” she remarks, eyes darting around the room you’re just now realising you forgot to clean, “crazy night?” she smirks, eyeing the bottles and pens that had fallen from the desk to the floor.

“oh,” you smile, bile rising in your throat, “i’m just..” clambering for an excuse, “clumsy.”

she scoffs, dumping her bag on the unmade bed, “you don’t have to lie to me,” smile growing, “if you and mark wanna.. break traditions then i’m all for it.”

her wilful innocence makes you feel all the more worse. you’re supposed best friend was none the wiser, bouncing around with a proud smile, ready for your wedding day.

- eddie’s pov -

steve notices something’s up immediately.

dark rings accompanying eddie’s eyes after he had gone missing for hours last night.

“you good?” steve’s hand thwacks against his back, assuming eddie’s manner was all to do with the fact that you were getting married and not that only a few hours ago, he was telling you that he still loved you while you were having sex.

the ride to the venue is quiet, which everyone appreciates, having prepared for a litany of complaints and whining.

the church is even more extravagant than the hotel, resembling one of those castles he’d seen in a fairytale book.

he wants that to make him feel better, that at least he wasn’t the one wasting all of this money on a stupid wedding, but it doesn’t.

because irregardless of how much money you were spending, you were still marrying someone else.

sure, it wouldn’t be a particularly honest nor holy marriage but it’d be a marriage nonetheless. something he would never have with you. no matter how hard he tried.

they file into the pew, sitting slumped against the varnished wood as everyone chatters around him.

concerned heads fly around, the groomsmen rushing up the aisle as they’re beckoned by your bridesmaids.

eddie sits up, looking around at the frantic bridesmaids who were desperately trying to get the pastor’s attention. something’s wrong. he can feel it in his bones.

he throws up a quick two with his fingers to steve before sliding out of the pew, ducking his head down the aisle as he searches for you.

slipping past the worried wedding party, opening a multitude of doors in search of you. hoping that you’d at least made it to the church, that you were okay.

he doesn’t expect to find you in here, holding onto your mouth, mascara stains dripping down your cheeks, curled into the corner with your shoulders shaking. eddie slips in, shoving the broom in between the door handle, ensuring that no one else could find the pair of you.

you spend a moment, gazing into each other’s eyes until you squeak, “what’re you doing?” the most soul crushing tone that makes his heart ache.

“i came to find you,” he says, simply.

because he would, he’d do it in every life.

your palm smears the black stains around your cheek, scoffing at his words. “you shouldn’t have.. i’m fine,” trying to convince yourself more than you were him.

“you don’t look fine.”

your bottom lip trembles, threatening to spill over again. evoking a harsh stab of guilt through his chest. eddie surges toward you, placing his palms over yours, “you don’t have to do this.. we can leave right now,” he assures, searching your eyes. he’d whisk you away in a heartbeat, you didn’t even have to ask. just give him that look.

your nostrils flare, a wail constricted to the back of your throat, trying hard not to alert the hundreds of wedding guests sat just a couple hundred meters away. the dark light of the closet does well to accentuate your tearful eyes, his heart aching with every sniffle, every quietened sob that falls from your lips.

then, you growl, rather forcefully slapping his chest, “this is your fault,” fingers grabbing onto his suit jacket, “why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” frustration seeping out of your words.

eddie doesn’t have an answer, at least not one that would make you feel better.

so he stands in silence, letting you treat him like your verbal punching bag.

“i can’t do it,” you cry, burying your face into his neck, “i can’t.. marry him.”

he nods, stood just before you in this cramped closet, “you don’t have to,” assuredly grabbing your sodden cheeks, streaks of black stain his palms, “we can go.. anywhere you want, right now.”

promising the world because really, it was all he had to offer.

he wasn’t rich, hadn’t figured out how to get the fuck out of hawkins yet but he did know that he loves you and he’d do anything to prove that.

you swallow, averting your eyes to the sparkling ring on your hand, curled into the fabric of his jacket. “okay,” flicking back to his eyes, it’s so simple and yet it knocks the breath from his lungs.

nothing really registers, eddie had planned for more bargaining, certain that regardless of his pleas, you’d still end up walking down that aisle, promising yourself to another man.

“really?” he asks, clarifying for both himself and for you. there was still time for you to pull yourself together and go get married, he wasn’t going to deny you that.

“really,” you nod frantically, “i’ll go anywhere,” tugging at the collar of his shirt, “anywhere with you.”

[lumienyx]

Why did your Tav fall?

@spacebarbarianweird thank you for the tag💙 the words just seem to never end when I write about my Tav's Feelings™️ so here goes

~

Tav has never quite fallen that far in love with anyone before. His one true love has always been sorcery. Adventures. Freedom. His friends. And so, the experiences with the few lovers he's had over his life seemed like nothing compared to what he feels for Astarion.

It starts as idle curiosity. The pale, sharp-tongued elf who calls himself Astarion is the first of Tav's companions to hint at possibly controlling their tadpoles instead of extracting and destroying them on the spot. Tav is ever one to experiment—and so the way Astarion's mind works is what he immediately loves about him.

Always the one with a creative witty comeback, always coming up with cunning ways to solve a problem, disarm a trap, break into the most guarded of places. Half the group is mortified at the idea of grabbing the Necromancy of Thay, yet Astarion encourages Tav to take it. And then gets so engrossed and excited by its possibilities once Tav decides to give it to him instead of keeping it; he was never one for death spells anyway.

The both of them make quite the team.

Yet for all of Astarion's boldness and confidence, Tav senses the fear. Not just through their Illithid connection, but in the little things Astarion lets slip. When Astarion's hands shake barely perceptibly and his eyes stare at places planes away. When he clenches his fists so hard the nails break skin which mends itself lightning-fast with vampiric regeneration... but Tav notices.

Astarion tells him more too, eventually. But their connection is what gives the most insight. The vision he gets when they first meet, the glimpse that night Astarion tries to drink his blood, the accidental connections since—and those on purpose, as they learn and trust each other enough to use their mind-link for tactical communications on the battlefield. Every time Tav touches upon Astarion's mind there's fear, raw and ugly and ever-present, scratching away at his chest and making it so hard to breathe even as he reminds himself that I don't need to breathe I don't need to I don't need—

Tav wants to protect him.

Even as he sees though Astarion's pretty words and the poetics he uses to manipulate Tav into trusting him, he goes along with it headfirst, unsure of what he's hoping for but hoping for something. Even if it's just to be with Astarion for the time-being. Just to help, in what little way Tav can, just with his company, with his words, with his care.

Tav promises to help him defeat Cazador. Whatever it takes. He will bask in the moment he can Disintegrate that crooked smirk from Cazador's face that keeps haunting Astarion's meditations. He will relish how Astarion kills him, makes him hurt for all the pain of two centuries twofold.

Tav needs to protect him, at some point, it simply crosses the bounds of a simple desire to protect anyone he calls friend.

Tav wants him safe, wants him happy. Wants to find more and more reasons to keep Astarion smiling with that beautiful, sun-bright smile that lights up his eyes. Eyes that stare past Tav less and less as time goes on—and begin to look more directly at him, seeing him.

And Tav sees Astarion in turn.

Sees that brilliant mind, the mischief, the love he has for pure, unadulterated fun. The lust for freedom, power, adventure. The quiet longing for companionship and the silent need to uncover his full potential.

It's at the point when Tav figures out he can use the tadpole to project the image of Astarion's face to him that their minds connect stronger, deeper than they've ever had before.

Such deafening emotion flows from Astarion then, overwhelming Tav, drowning him. Confusion, shock, relief, joy, elation, hope—it all crashes down on both of them and ends up in a passionate kiss that leaves Astarion giddy and Tav weak in the knees.

Tav thinks then, how much he loves this, this kiss, this closeness. Loves being with Astarion and maybe loves—

Tav razes the thought right there on the spot. Too soon, too foolish, not true—how could he ever even tell if he's never even felt that before?

But that's when Tav falls and keeps falling inevitably deeper into that blissful abyss of a novel emotion. He doesn't dare hope Astarion ends there in love with him—but, miraculously, he does.

~

No pressure tags if you want to write about why your Tav fell for Astarion (or any other companion/character!):

@ellekhen @tallymonster @satanicspinosaurus @astariondisapproves @astarions-fangs @thedreamlessnights @justporo @tigers-pat and anyone else who sees this and wants to join in💙

[t00thr4t]

Growing Up: An Abstract Essay on Depression, Dysphoria, and Cake

June 2nd, 2015. You are a cake. Not just any cake though. You are a three-layer German chocolate cake. The woman who is now carrying you to a large table has spent hours lovingly crafting you for the young girl sitting at the aforementioned table. The little girl seems elated, grinning from ear to ear and clapping her hands when she sees you. You stand up a little straighter, a swell of pride filling you when you see her excitement. You note the decorations around the dining room and realize that it must be the girl’s birthday. She blows out the nine candles carefully arranged on top of you, and the world goes dark. You’re happy though; this is what you were created to do.

June 2nd, 2019. You are a different three-layer German chocolate cake. You have been carried to a small table and placed in front of a young teenager. From your short life’s experience, you can tell that he looks exhausted, but he smiles a wide, closed-mouth smile. As the people around you begin singing, he grimaces. Once the painfully long song ends, he blows out the thirteen candles, and you are sliced into. You cannot see what happens next, but you hear chatter all around you. Notably though, the young boy’s voice is entirely absent. You can’t help but wonder why this celebration feels so wrong.

June 2nd, 2020. You are a two-layer German chocolate cake, with a long crack running through the middle of your second layer. You sit on a wide, teal plate in front of a young boy with bright red hair. The boy who has spent the last five hours making sure that you’re as perfect as he can make you. He is grinning, and he claps his hands excitedly. He looks at your top layer, pondering for a moment–then, pulls a spatula from the bowl beside you and adds more of the thick, hearty custard that seeps through your layers of rich, chocolate cake. You have no candles this year, but he seems just as content with singing a quiet song for just the two of you. He looks around the kitchen, and, seeing nobody, sighs. He pulls a knife from the block behind you and cuts himself a small, efficient piece. You are left feeling forlorn. 

June 2nd, 2022. You are an exquisite two-layer German chocolate cake. The yellow-haired boy before you stands back, crossing his arms and beaming with the pride of a practiced professional. He hugs the woman to his left, and the two share hushed words of excitement for a moment. The boy looks expectantly toward the door behind him, and as if he had made it so, the door slams open with a cacophony of noise. The boy grins wider and runs over to hug the new arrivals, and everyone speaks so loudly that you can hardly process your own thoughts. But then, everyone switches gears into complimenting you, and you stand straighter, just as the cake seven years ago had done. You have no way of knowing this though, for you are merely a cake, and cakes exist to be sung to and eaten. It is time for the former, and you see the boy struggle to maintain his smile as everyone speaks his name. And now, though you’ve been expecting it for your entire short existence, the knife sliding through doesn’t feel any less odd. You can’t help but feel satisfied though, that your life has gone to enjoyment for others.

[narniancrownshield]

Chapter 3 | Talks and Teasing

On the next morning after breakfast, Reepicheep and Luna sit outside on the front deck as usual. Lucy joins them with sewing utensils in hand to stich the clothes Luna gave her a little tighter as her figure is less tall and more fragile than the warrior’s. Not long after, the kings step to the merry party as well. They are animatedly talking about the Dawn Treader and Narnia’s rebuilt navy. Eustace is nowhere in sight. He showed up for breakfast but disappeared soon after, grabbing some bread and fruit with the excuse of not feeling well. After he left, Lucy told the friends that she worries about him. Edmund just sighed at that.

» You know how he is, « the King of Old said,

» The more we try to be nice to him, the more miserable he’ll be. « Caspian had his fair share of complaints from Eustace already. At least, the boy accepted that Caspian as king holds the most power on this ship and his word goes. Theoretically, the captain would be second in command but now the King and Queen of Narnia’s Golden Age fill these ranks. These hierarchies are unnecessary most of the time, though.

» Now, Drinian said we’ll reach the Lone Islands soon, « Edmund speaks up, leaning against the railing next to his sister,

» But where are we headed then? What are we here for if there’s no trouble in Narnia? « Good question. However, everyone is happy to have them. There is a saying that, once a king or queen of Narnia, always a king or queen of Narnia. As far as Luna knows, every queen and king of Narnia is fondly remembered, always holding a place in the Narnians’ hearts.

» Well, that’s a rather long story, « Caspian clears his throat. He stands next to Edmund, arms crossed in front of his chest.

» You may remember the oath I swore to Aslan on my coronation day, « he begins,

» To find seven friends of my father, lords of Telmar, who were sent to explore the unknown Eastern Seas beyond the Lone Islands by my uncle Miraz. « His eyes wander over the deck and come to gaze out at the water. A thin veil of haze lays over its surface this morning which seems to swallow some of the early light.

» I swore to sail east for a year and a day to find them or to learn of their deaths and avenge them, if I can, « Caspian continues. He seems absent, as if reliving a memory. Luna remembers said oath well. It was right after the coronation, back at Miraz’ castle, that the young king sought out Aslan to talk about his father and the authority now given to him. At the time, Caspian was still unsure about himself being a leader. Luna didn’t participate in their talk, she was to keep watch over the king, out of earshot, Edmund keeping her company. As Caspian got down to one knee, Aslan called her over to bear witness to the young king’s oath.

» However, Reep hopes to find something else on our journey, « a smile flickers over Caspian’s face as he turns to the mouse. He shall speak for himself. Reepicheep takes the opportunity with an appreciative nod in the king’s direction. He rises from his spot to stand on the railing.

» I heard stories about Aslan’s Country, « explains he,

» As the Great Lion always comes to Narnia from the East, I believe this country could lay at the utmost end of the sea. « He looks at the king and queen of old expectantly. His whiskers tremble from excitement.

» The end of the world, you mean? « Somehow, Lucy seems captured by the idea, her sewing work long forgotten in her lap,

» Do you really think this country is a place where we can sail to? « She seems elated at the thought of reaching Aslan’s Country. The youngest queen of Narnia’s Golden Age always has had a special connection to the Great Lion, the son of the Emperor beyond the sea, the Lord of lords.

» Well, I don’t know, « Reepicheep glances at the horizon,

» But we do have nothing if not hope. « He is right and earns approval from all sides with nods and quiet hums. Luna doesn’t really know what to make of the idea of this Aslan’s Country. Of course, it’s interesting and if they reach it, it surely will be a sight to behold… But it’s said, too, that Aslan set a place for the dead to go after they pass over into the spirit world. So, if that is Aslan’s Country, the warrior feels unsure if they should set a foot there. Not yet. Not that she would be afraid of death or the dead, but their rest shouldn’t be disturbed. If His country is something else, a place ‘where one can sail’ as Lucy put it, Luna fears that Reepicheep will want to go discover. She shakes her head slightly in an attempt to chase away those thoughts. They are far away from the end of the world and there is a very long way ahead of them until they reach it – if ever.

» A compelling thought indeed, « Edmund meanwhile agrees. The discussion continues for a bit as Lucy speculates there might be an edge of the world where the ship could fall into an unknown abyss. Luna certainly does not hope that to be true.

A while after their conversation, Caspian and Edmund start a sword fight for training. Both kings move with precision and seeming ease. That is necessary, though. In a real fight or battle even a blow that is not carried out well enough ends with injuries and probably death. Therefore, soldiers and fighters of all kinds always need to stay in excellent condition. It surprises Luna a little that King Edmund is in such a good shape after spending some time without regular training. He said, for them, one year passed since their last Narnian adventure. The training fight ends in a draw and the sailors standing round them cheer and clap at the show. Drinian grants it to them before shooing them off to work again. He is a strict captain and a dutiful man, showing his soft spots quite rarely.

After the fight, Edmund joins Lucy and Luna at the railing on the middle deck. The queen watches her brother take a sip from the cup in his hand before tilting her head to the side.

» Ed, « she addresses him,

» Do you think that, if we keep sailing to the end of the world… we’ll just tip off the edge? « That’s an interesting thought. The kings and queens once told Luna that their world is supposed to be round like a ball while this world is more… flat, like a coin perhaps. But nobody really knows for certain as no one searched for the ‘ends of the world’. Edmund regards the young women thoughtfully.

» I can’t imagine that, « he then answers and his sister smiles slightly,

» But don’t worry, Lu, we’re a long way from there. «

» Well, I hope we’ll meet Aslan soon, « she speaks again, and her smile brightens. Her gaze wanders out on the open sea, and Luna follows her lead. The haze cleared about two hours after breakfast. It always stays longer as it would on dry land. Rynelf says, that is because of the higher amount of water in the air.

» If I may, « Reepicheep walks towards us on the railing, balancing with ease. He hops on a barrel next to Lucy to settle down. There are lots of those stored on deck, tied down and safely secured, of course.

» I don’t think that He will just let us sail over the edge, Your Majesty, « the mouse tells Lucy and leans his back on the wooden rail. Luna shares his opinion. However, their attention is claimed by the smaller hatch opening to reveal a frowning Eustace climbing up the final stairs on deck. He is really frowning already, before even reaching the deck. Maybe he was eavesdropping?

» You’re still talking nonsense, aren’t you? « He says as he reaches the top and straightens his clothes. Edmund rolls his eyes and hides his frown behind the cup. Lucy seems to battle with herself, if to scold him or leave it be. Reep regards the blond boy with narrowed eyes as if he is considering calling him out on his dishonourable behaviour. Luna is spared as someone calls her name. She turns at once to find Caspian and Drinian on the other side of the middle deck, standing just below the stairs up to the poop. The king waves her over to them and the warrior follows suit immediately, ignoring Eustace’s complaining after Lucy asks him, if he’s feeling better.

Caspian smiles at her as Luna joins the two. She bows her head at them and waits for them to explain what they need her for.

» We were just discussing how to approach the people of the Lone Islands, « the king says,

» I’d like to wait before we let them know who we are and… what we are. « He casts Drinian a look. The captain nods once and crosses his arms behind his back.

» Do you think they don’t accept Narnia’s supremacy anymore? « Luna inquires, wanting to understand his intentions. Caspian tilts his head to the side, pressing his lips together. That’s a yes then. He seems a little tense, like always when he is unsure of something.

» We can’t be certain, « Drinian answers as the king doesn’t say anything and casts Luna a knowing look,

» They could welcome us, but they could be… not so friendly as well. So, we should prepare for anything. « She nods to signal that she understood and rests her gaze on Caspian. Something seems to trouble him. This matter maybe? It would be obvious but, knowing him, it could be something else as well. Lightly, she touches his arm as he continues to just stand there and stare in the distance over Drinian’s shoulder. The king seems to return from his thoughts and turns his head in Luna’s direction. She tilts my head to the side just as he did before, returning his gaze.

» If that’s all, I’ll take my leave, « Drinian murmurs, hesitating to wait for the king’s permission. He sure must feel a bit awkward.

» That will be all, « Caspian confirms without breaking his gaze away from Luna’s. Drinian doesn’t even raise an eyebrow or shrug at this, he’s used to Caspian and his Crown Shield communicating like this. Silently, only by looking at each other. It is a result of spending a lot of time together over the past years. They became a rehearsed team.

» Everything alright? « Luna asks softly. A smile flickers over his features and he holds eye contact for a moment longer before dropping his gaze to the floor.

» Of course, « he answers and doesn’t sound very convincing, but he doesn’t seem to want to talk about it either. So, she will drop it for now and try to get him on other thoughts instead.

» Well, « says she and draws the word out to get him to look at her again. It works and she smiles teasingly,

» If His Majesty is sure. « At that, Caspian laughs softly.

» He is sure, « he replies, getting in on her teasing. Luna joins in his laugh. Caspian lets his eyes wander away from her and over the deck. As he looks over her shoulder at something behind her, the warrior turns to look as well and finds Eustace tormenting the others with his constant complaints.

» We should probably get over there, « she suggests, suppressing a sigh. Where, by Aslan’s mane, is it going to end with the boy? Hopefully, they will receive the answer to this question. As she faces Caspian again, he nods slowly, probably thinking the same. So, Luna moves to walk over to Lucy, Edmund, Eustace and Reepicheep, just for a gentle hand on her elbow to hold her back. Caspian steps next to her and catches her quizzical gaze with a serious expression.

» Thank you, « he says quietly, taking her by surprise. The question escapes her lips before she can stop it,

» What for? « They keep looking at each other for a moment, a warm feeling spreads in her chest. Suddenly, someone bumps into Caspian, causing him to let go of her at once and break the eye contact. For a split second he keeps holding out his arm in front of Luna before dropping it.

Eustace stopped his rant as he ran into Caspian – which can happen if one doesn’t look where one is going. The blond stares at the king.

» Nobody kidnapped you, Eustace, « Edmund tells his cousin and tries to force the annoyance from his tone. Eustace merely huffs.

» Kidnapping, is it? « Caspian narrows his eyes at the smaller boy in front of him,

» Funny, I thought we saved your life. « His teasing seems to be the drop to overflow Eustace’s stored barrel of complaining.

» You’re holding me against my will! « He squeals, throwing his head in every direction to cast everyone an outraged look. Reep lets out a stifled laugh and Caspian raises an eyebrow, not hiding his smile. He seems more amused than troubled now, a good sign. However, Eustace isn’t anywhere near done.

» In, what I must say, most unhygienic quarters, « he points accusingly at the hatches leading down to the ship’s belly,

» It’s like a-a zoo down there! « At that, a smile crosses Luna’s lips as well and she doesn’t hold in a soft laugh. Eustace’s eyes fixate on her. He already opens his mouth to retort something as he looks her up and down and hesitates. His gaze stopped on her hand which rests on the hilt of her sword. Luna didn’t even recognize that she took hold of it as it became an instinctive reaction as soon as someone comes too close to Caspian, the king who she is trusted to guard.

» Wha- What are you doing? « Eustace asks, ignoring Reepicheep.

» He’s quite the complainer, isn’t he? « The mouse asks the King and Queen of Old in the background. Now it’s Lucy who sighs and Edmund answers rather casually,

» He’s just warming up. « At the blonde’s question, the general attention turns to Luna. She glances down at her sword, then back at the boy and chooses not to say anything. Caspian stays next to her and folds his arms.

» Are you trying to kill me?! « Eustace cries and looks around as to find someone to protect him or to look for an escape. Luna notes the change in his stance. So far, he stood straight and proud with his chin lifted a little too high to not look arrogant. Now his posture slumped, making him seem smaller than he is. The expression of his eyes changed as well. Luna thinks to see something like fear in them but doubt at the same time. He probably does still not believe whatever he witnesses in this – for him – foreign world. Thus, he may be thinking that Luna carries that sword for fun. Reepicheep’s words woke her mischievous side. So, she keeps her face as blank as possible.

» Depends, « she finally answers, and Eustace visibly shrinks even more. His pride didn’t allow him to take a step back until now and he still doesn’t. Brave, that’s a point for him.

» What’s that supposed to m-mean? « He asks, staring up at the warrior. She exchanges a brief glance with Reep who smirks, paws folded in front of his belly. Edmund is the first to blow his cover. He laughs and tries to drown it with his drink at first, but bursts out laughing anyway. Lucy follows with a giggle, for once not caring about the dirty look from Eustace who called their bluff by now. He pouts and looks about ready to stomp his foot like a child. The deep chuckle next to Luna causes a bright smile to bloom on her face. Caspian sends her a smirk, nudging her shoulder with his.

» You all are unbelievable! «

Eustace complains, trudging away from the friends while mumbling something about that British consul again. Luna makes a mental note to ask what it means on the next occasion. For now, they leave the blond boy brooding by himself and enjoy the beautiful day.

[frogtanii]

[buckle up; this one is a long one (1.6k words)]

things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.

she was supposed to show up, apologize “sincerely,” and the boys, her boys, were supposed to welcome her with open arms and swiftly discard of you.

instead, she was sitting in the back of a cramped police car with two pigs, one of which had a horrible b.o. problem and an affinity for sauerkraut.

it was so frustrating.

and, of course, it was all your fault.

you’d been blocking her from true happiness ever since the beginning when you’d first met in middle school. it was crazy because you’d actually seemed nice; kind, understanding, and you didn’t judge her for what her father did to her mother or for how she acted out because of that.

sure, you were a little weird and sometimes you could be downright rude to other kids in your class but you cared for her in a way that no one else had before.

(un)fortunately, you didn’t come alone — you were a packaged deal. your childhood friend, daishou, came into her life right along with you. she didn’t mind at first; daishou was fun when he wanted to be but he was mostly full of snarky comments and sarcastic quips.

the three of you spent all your time with each other; from playing at the playground to helping her begin her makeup youtube channel in 8th grade.

you all got along pretty well up until you got to highschool. once there, you threw yourself into your studies, sort of retracting yourself from her and daishou.

how selfish.

she couldn’t help but feel betrayed by you—you knew how bad she was at making friends and you didn’t even care, leaving her all alone to fend for herself.

well, not all by herself.

daishou was a constant. no matter where she was, or how alone she was feeling, he was there to provide entertainment at the most, and his presence at the least.

it wasn’t always the healthiest, most functional friendship, she could admit that. there were weeks that daishou would choose to ignore her for no apparent rhyme or reason, citing his explanation as he just didn’t feel like it.

obviously it sucked but he was her only friend, ever since you so cruelly abandoned them. i mean, you still ate lunch with them every day and invited them over to study and hang out, but it was not the same.

with you so absent, she grew closer and closer to daishou to the point she was spending almost every waking moment with him. and, as the story so goes, she fell for him, head over heels.

she knew it was a bad idea, if their friendship was anything to go off of but she didn’t care. she was desperate for love and physical affection and he seemed willing to at least give her the latter.

after she decided to confess, nerves all the way in her throat and a box of chocolates behind her back, daishou took her virginity in the back of his ford fusion, hard, fast and nothing like she’d imagined.

the next day, she’d cornered you in the library (where you always seemed to be) to tell you the good news. your face was unusually blank as she detailed the best night of her life to you, your response being less than stellar when she was done. “please be careful,” you had said.

what did that even mean? you clearly wanted to keep daishou safe from her which was ridiculous because weren’t you supposed to be her friend too? she’d stormed out of the library after that, determined to demand a kiss from daishou to make her feel better.

that day was one of the last that she’d see you for a while. you got caught up with clubs and schoolwork (and apparently therapy for god knows what) while she got caught up with daishou.

things with him weren’t... great. they never really were but things were getting even worse. his random bouts of silence got longer and though it was only freshman year and they’d been dating for less than 5 months, he’d meet with her after school with a hickey plastered on his collarbone that she knew she didn’t put there (she sucked even harder over the spot to claim it as her own).

as she said, things weren’t great but they weren’t horrible either. they remained that way all the way up until sophomore year.

you and her had drifted even further, hardly speaking to one another unless it was for a project or to vaguely greet one another in the halls. it was okay though. you had all your other friends and she... well she had daishou.

speaking of, her “boyfriend” had been more distant than usual. she wasn’t an idiot and she knew he’d been seeing other girls on the side, but she believed she would be the one he’d end up with, the one he’d marry.

how foolish she had been.

it was prom night and she felt beautiful. her beauty channel had finally begun picking up traction (she’d just hit 13k subscribers the night before!!) so she filmed a prom night makeup tutorial, making sure that every square inch of her face was perfect. donning a silky blue floor length dress, she felt like a princess and she certainly looked the part.

she showed up to daishou’s house about 30 minutes before the event, ringing his doorbell with an elated grin painted all over her face. he had mentioned in passing that his parents and older sister would be out for the weekend, leaving the house for themselves. that meant sex and sex meant being wanted.

after the third ring of the bell, she started to get nervous. maybe he wasn’t ready yet? maybe he needed help with his tie? just when she was about to wring the bell again, the door swung open to reveal daishou... not in his suit.

“oh, it’s you,” he’d grumbled. “‘m not goin’ to prom.” she felt her breath catch in her throat. she’d protested and begged for an explanation but he wouldn’t give one to her. eventually, she’d followed him into his house, furious because how could he do this to her? on her night?

it didn’t take very long for him to get fed up, his snake-like eyes honing in on her, filled with venom. “‘m not goin’ because i don’t like you anymore. you still look pretty though.”

just like that, with just a few words, he’d shattered her heart. she was frozen in place, completely disconnected from daishou, her love, as he not-so-gently pushed her out the door, slamming it in her face.

she felt tears stream down her cheeks and before she knew it, her legs were carrying her to a place she hadn’t been in months.

banging frantically on the door, she cried out, begging for someone, anyone to hear her. the door opened quickly and there you stood. you’d clearly been studying but as you took in her frazzled appearance, it seemed as though your heart broke.

you ushered her inside, sat her own the couch, and began to make her a cup of tea, your parents having been out for the night as well. once the kettle went off, you quickly prepped her drink and gave it to her, the words flowing out of her like liquid once she had taken a sip.

she didn’t know why she was even there but despite the animosity between the two of you, you seemed like you truly... cared. (neither of you mentioned the tears that stained your favorite t shirt or the quiet apologies you muttered into her hair).

that night quickly went and passed and by the next day, she was feeling rejuvenated and more like herself. however, that feeling quickly dissipated when she caught you in the hallway between classes speaking with daishou behind the stairwell in hushed tones.

within the span of a few hours, her heart had been broken twice and she was sure she’d never felt such heartache before.

she turned on her heel and darted away, avoiding your every attempt to talk to her for weeks and weeks until you just... stopped trying. after you’d cut off conversation, yet again, the sadness quickly festered and morphed into anger.

that anger only grew when she watched you graduate at the top of your class in your senior year, your smile blinding as you accepted your diploma. it only grew when she saw that you had made it into the university of your choice on your instagram story, her own rejection letter torn up in the bottom of her wastebin. it only grew when she saw you’d made your own youtube channel, her own going untouched and neglected (her last video had been a half-assed “get ready with me” that had more dislikes than likes due to her horrible makeup and even worse attitude).

soon enough, the rage had intensified until it had taken over her whole being. she was just so angry at all that you’d done to her, all the ways you’d ruined her life that she couldn’t keep herself from plotting your demise.

when she got the email from the hyper house management team that invited her into the house and offered the option that she could pick someone she wanted to move in as well, her anger turned into excitement.

this was her chance. this was her moment to turn your life into a living hell, to make it at least a fraction of what she went through by your hands.

she was going to make you pay and god, was it going to feel great.

the metal of the handcuffs chafed her wrists as she adjusted herself against the cool leather of the cruiser, the discomfort removing her from her reverie.

yeah, right. it seemed as though she was the only one “paying” right about now.

she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling, tears filling her eyes but refusing to fall.

things definitely weren’t meant to turn out like this. not at all.

℗ poker face

not like this

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - OMFG THE BACKSTORY REVEALED I AM SO OVER IT >:(( this took me forever to write and i still wasn’t able to include everything i wanted to so hop over to my asks if you need any clarification!! oh oh && just a reminder, this playlist is from meiko’s perspective so chances are, things didn’t exactly go just like this wink wonk KAJS ANYWAYS DONT FORGET TO FEED ME ILY <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[rocorambles]

Surprise Interview

Pairing: Kenma x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Pseudo-Cest, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Verbal Humiliation, Manipulation

Summary: Kenma sees if you have what it takes to be Bouncing Ball’s newest employee.

A/N: This is for @sugawara-sweetheart ‘s Decadence Collab. So excited to be a part of this collab and to be able to indulge in such a delicious prompt and theme. Be sure to check out everyone else’s works! As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora ~

There’s a familiar peace and a new nervousness about coming back home for the holidays. Mostly because home isn’t quite the same home it used to be. You can feel warmth blooming in your chest at the thought of seeing your mom, telling her about everything and everyone (as if your daily phone calls aren’t enough), and just lounging around while she fills you up with her cooking. But you can also feel a certain shyness as you approach the house, a building that still feels brand new and strange to you.

Your mother had gotten remarried during your earlier college years after your father’s passing and you were elated for her. If anyone deserves all the happiness in the world, it’s her. You had met Mr. Kozume quite a few times and you have no qualms with the man. He treats your mother like a queen and even though you playfully gag as they sweet talk and kiss in front of you, you wholeheartedly approve of their relationship.

However, what you aren’t quite as prepared for is having a new step-sibling.

You don’t know much about Kenma Kozume. Well, not much more than the rest of the world does.

Professional gamer. Successful stock trader. Popular YouTuber. Founder of his own corporation.

You know exactly who your new brother is, but other than seeing him a few times in person at family gatherings and exchanging polite greetings, there’s no real connection. Which is why your heart races as you nervously ring his doorbell, anxiety already making your leg twitch as you wait for the door to open.

Your mother and step-father are on a couple’s vacation and won’t be returning for a few days.

(“We just want some romantic time together before we have a full house again for the holidays. Plus this is a great chance to get to know your older brother better!” You hadn’t even been able to get a word of protest in before she had laughed and hung up on you, leaving you speechless and on your own as you hesitantly texted Kenma, letting him know what day to expect you.)

Kenma is quiet as ever as he nods in greeting, silently leading you to your guest room before quietly telling you to make yourself at home and leaving to do his own thing. You let out a huge sigh of relief as the door closes behind him.

There’s nothing wrong with Kenma. He’s smart and successful. Maybe a bit on the quiet side, but that only adds to his down to earth charm. You know your mother and step-father adore him and you can’t blame them. Yet, you can’t help but feel scrutinized, seen so clearly in a way that terrifies you when his feline eyes gaze at you. It takes everything in you not to immediately scurry away whenever you’re in viewing distance of him, desperate to hide all the flaws you imagine he’s noticing and calculating. Your step-father had mentioned how Kenma used to be the strategist of his high school volleyball team, and has always been able to evaluate and accurately break down situations and people. And you believe it.

You’re just grateful the house is large enough to avoid each other and that Kenma tends to reside mostly in his home office and bedroom.

But even the founder of a company needs a break from time to time. Kenma shuffles towards the gaming room, only to blink in surprise when he sees you already inside of it, happily smiling as Animal Crossing visuals and sounds fill the space.

He had known you owned a Nintendo Switch, a piece of information your mom had shared to break the ice a bit. And it’s really no surprise that this is your go-to game. But knowing and seeing are two different things and he can’t help but let his own lips twitch upwards at how calm and relaxed you are tending to your garden, decorating your home, choosing your outfit.

Kenma’s never been good with people, has never been the one to initiate a friendship. He knows he should have made more of an effort to be friendly and welcoming to you as your new older brother. There’s a slight pang of regret in his chest when he sees how at ease you are while you’re unaware of his presence. His eyes are as sharp as ever and he locks in on the way your body slightly stiffens, fingers nervously fidgeting when you finally notice his figure in the doorway, words already stuttering an apology for using his game room without explicitly asking.

You look like a scared mouse about to flee from the claws of a cat. And it pisses him off.

He hasn’t made the best efforts to bridge the gap between you, but for you to fear him? That seems a tad unnecessary, and more than a tad insulting. It’s more than enough to make the sadistic streak in him want to give you something to be scared about.

But he’s never been impulsive and he just quietly sits beside you on the floor, reassuring you it’s fine to play, smirking when you sneak little side glances his way as you continue collecting fruits.

“Kozume, do you want to play-”

“Just call me Kenma.”

Entranced eyes watch as you grow flustered at his words, mouth silently testing the weight of his given name in your mouth. For once, Kenma could care less about playing video games when a shaky timid “Kenma” slips past your soft lips.

“Kenma, do you want to play something together?”

You have no idea how badly he really does want to play together, but it’s a game you’re not ready for. So he calls upon any restraint he has to pluck your device from your hands and change the game to Mario Kart.

It’s amusing how easily you soften besides him, brow furrowing in concentration, eyes intently and eagerly following the screen, any anxiousness quickly forgotten as you get into the game. He greedily watches as you pout when you make a mistake, as your eyes light up every time you pass someone.

If he had known how easy it would be to make you warm up to him, he’d have done this sooner and he genuinely laughs when you whine and fake glare at him as he wins yet another round.

He asks about school. You ask about work. He tells you about his childhood. You share your own stories.

It’s a comfortable rhythmic back and forth and he’s afraid of ruining it, but a certain question nags at his mind, a question he knows may ruin the entire flow of the conversation.

“You’ll be graduating soon. Have you decided what you want to do after college?”

“Kenma not you too!!!”

His shoulders relax at how well you react to the question, smiling at the way you flop onto your back and groan about how mom and dad are already on your case about future plans.

“I’ve been applying to places, but who knows. Maybe I’ll just work for you at Bouncing Ball.”

There’s a playful lilt in your voice when you say it, a giggle and teasing smile accompanying the words. But there’s nothing funny about it to Kenma and your smile falters a bit when you see how tightly Kenma’s gripping his controller, the way his eyes pin you down.

“Kenma? It’s just a joke. I would never take advantage of-”

You try to get up from your reclined position, only to whimper in confusion when Kenma’s hand on your shoulder forces you back down. And suddenly you’re pinned down by more than just his stare as he moves to straddle you, knees on either side of your body, hands next to your head, his whole body caging yours.

It’s a lighthearted joke in the family that if all else fails, you could always work at Bouncing Ball. A joke your step-father and mother always dish out when the arguments get too tense as the three of you talk about your future. But it’s become less in jest for Kenma, especially after Kuroo sent him a scandalous picture of his newest secretary kneeling between his long legs, lips wrapped around his cock.

It wasn’t the first picture, nor was it the last incriminating photo the older businessman had sent him. Kenma merely rolled his eyes before deleting the image from his phone, wondering when Kuroo would grow bored and find a new toy to play with. But he freezes when he sees the following text message from his long-time friend.

“You’re the CEO of a company, Kenma. Wouldn’t it be nice to have someone convenient around? A pretty warm body? I bet that cute new step sister of yours would look really good under your desk. Doesn’t she graduate from college soon? If you don’t make a move, maybe I’ll snatch her up right from under your nose. I’m due for a change of secretary soon.”

There’s absolutely no reason for the hot anger that lances through him at Kuroo’s taunting words and he grimaces at playing right into his ex-captain’s hands, already hearing Kuroo’s braying laughter in his head if the older man saw just how much his words affected him.

But initial irritation aside, he lets himself really think, really imagine what a life with you at his beck and call would be like. And he likes what he sees. He doesn’t delete Kuroo’s photos as quickly as he used to, replacing the female faces with yours in his imagination as his hands slip under the hem of his boxers.

He knows it’s a longshot, knows there’s a high chance you’ll continue your lives as is, never destined to exchange more than a few polite greetings at family outings. But now...now hearing you voice the idea out loud yourself, hearing the way his first name sounds from your lips…

Maybe it’s not the silly pipe dream he had believed it to be.

“I’m in need of an assistant if you really do want to work at Bouncing Ball, but you’d need to prove why it would be worth hiring you.”

He almost laughs at how you perk up despite the precarious position you’re in, almost ready to launch into an elevator pitch of your qualifications flat on your back underneath him. You’re quite the multitasker already and he groans at the thought of having you cockwarm him while he tests out a new video game, making you answer all his calls stuffed full of him and desperately trying to hide the lustful tremble in your voice.

But he’s not here to listen to your carefully crafted speech. (Guess you really were practicing for job interviews like you said you were. What a good girl.) And he firmly presses his lips against yours to silence you, taking his time to immerse himself in the way your mouths mold against each other.

Your taste, your smell, your warmth. It’s all intoxicating and he slips his tongue inside your parted lips, subtly rutting his groin against your body. He can feel your body jostle as you lift your arms and he waits for the weight of your arms to lovingly wrap around his neck, only to be shocked when you weakly press against his shoulders until he finally relents and pulls back just enough to look down at you in irritated confusion.

“We- we shouldn’t be doing this.”

It’s not the words that have him clenching his fists, not even the way your palms still timidly press against him in a laughably weak show of defense.

It’s the fear in your eyes, the way you look at him like he’s some monster. It's the way he can almost palpably feel and hear your desire to be anywhere other than here, with anyone other than him, wishing to put as much space between the two of you as possible.

It’s your rejection.

It hurts to know that he isn’t enough just as he is, that he needs to resort to less...savory and straightforward ways to entrap you. But he’s not Hinata or Kuroo. He doesn’t have an electrifying personality or roguishly handsome features and charm to woo you. He only has his cunning and sharp tongue.

And he fully intends on maximizing his gifts.

“Of course, you don’t have to. You can just keep on applying and getting rejected by every company you speak to, if they even bother meeting with you after seeing your pathetic resume. Average college. Average grades. Average major. Tell me, how many interviews have you actually been reached out to for?”

He’s going out on a bit of a limb, but his suspicions are right and he cruelly smirks at the way tears bubble in your eyes at his words, no comeback or denial rolling off the tip of your tongue. He had a feeling you were struggling from the bits and pieces he’s picked up as your parents quietly talk and fret over you actually being able to find a job after graduation.

“Our parents are too nice to say anything about it, but you know they’re disappointed in you, right? Have you noticed how they always avoid talking about how school is going or asking you about how job hunting is going? How they only ask me how work is going? It’s because they know you’re just a loser whose life is going to amount to nothing.”

“That’s not true! They love me-”

“I’m not saying they don’t love you, but doesn’t that make it even worse? Making your loving and caring parents worry and stress over you when they should be preparing for retirement, an easy life? Instead of letting them finally enjoy a carefree life, you’ll be their freeloader daughter who uses up all their remaining funds. Is that what you want?”

You really are too easy and his lips curl in satisfaction at the way you frantically shake your head side to side, fat wet drops streaming down your face, adorable sniffles filling the air.

“If you become my assistant, I’ll compensate you well. You can live here with me, have your own room, a roof over your head, all the food and clothing you need and want. Think about how relieved and happy our parents will be seeing you provided for, seeing us getting along. Isn’t that what you want? For them to be happy?”

He knows how close you are to your mom, how important this idea of a perfect family is to you. He knows how insecurity and doubt about your own capabilities torment you. And he knows you’re hooked on his claws when your hands that are still pressed against his shoulders drop limply besides you, not even a hint of resistance left in you when he leans down once more to rest his forehead on yours, one hand cupping the side of your face.

“This is all you’re good for anyway. Working underneath me.”

If you notice his pun, you don’t acknowledge it, too busy wincing and squirming as he harshly nips and bites a trail from your lips to your neck as he pushes up the hem of your shirt until your chest is on full display for him. There’s something experimental, cold, meticulous about the way he gropes and fondles your breasts.Your face heats in humiliation at how he treats you like one of the many game consoles he’s reviewed for his audience.

But you don’t do anything about it, telling yourself that this is just his version of an interview as he pinches and prods at you, meanly twisting your nipples and chuckling at your yelp of pain. You obediently let him spread your legs apart, only letting out an agonized cry as he tests your flexibility, staring at him with a trembling lower lip as he sharply tells you to shut up while scrutinizing your panty-covered sex.

“You really are made for this, aren’t you?”

You whimper as he nudges the small wet spot on the thin fabric, clenching your eyes shut in denial at how hot and wound up your body feels from his touch, unable to hide your gasp as he pulls the layer aside and rubs your aroused clit.

There’s something so different about the way his fingers slowly sink into your wet pussy, almost lazily curling against your soft walls, his thumb never stopping its careful massage on the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. So different from your own fingers desperately thrusting in and out of you. So different from the drunk partners you’ve hooked up with at college and their sloppy, rapid, frantic movements.

You can feel something large, something intimidating slowly rising from deep inside of you, a volcano about to erupt compared to the bright and fast to fade shooting stars you’re used to. You’re scared. Scared of the intoxicating feeling, of how easy it is to grow accustomed to Kenma’s presence, of how his cat-like eyes are all you can see and think of.

How can something feel so wrong and so right at the same time?

That’s the last coherent thought you have before your world goes blank, pleasure rocking through you as you soak the carpet and your step-brother’s hand with your juices. You’re moaning as Kenma continues to rock his fingers in and out of you, fingertips insistently massaging your clit and g-spot as you ride out your orgasm, body trembling and convulsing.

But even when the tremors slow, when pleasure becomes something sharper, more overwhelming, he doesn’t stop. You wail, begging him to stop, to let you rest, slumping in relief when he finally drags his hands away from you, carelessly wiping the mess you’ve made of his hand on your skin, covering you in your own essence.

Your heavy eyelids threaten to flutter shut as you let exhaustion wash over you, already dreading having to get up and wash yourself. But you’re shocked back to reality as something hard begins to nudge at your still fluttering entrance.

“Kenma! No! Too much-”

You break off into a sob as surprisingly strong hands dig into your hips, holding you still as he pushes and pushes until he’s fully settled inside of you, balls resting against your ass.

You’re still so tight, your quivering walls clamping around the intrusion, and he groans at the thought of being able to sink into this hole every day, multiple times, whenever he wants. His cock is already aching from holding off for so long, from watching your body and face contorted in pleasure. Kenma can feel his end quickly approaching as you scream and wail underneath him, eyes rolling back in your head, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth. You look absolutely obscene and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of this side of you.

But despite the way his balls are tightening, despite the stutter in his hips, he’s determined to watch you fall apart once more, to see you shatter to pieces yet again. He grits his teeth, fingers reaching down to furiously rub at your already oversensitized clit, reveling in how your back arches, thighs shaking in overstimulation, and then you snap.

He wonders what his parents would think of their dear dumb daughter now, looking nothing like their silly angel, looking like a wanton used whore, incoherent garbled noises slipping past your lips as you twitch uncontrollably, your pussy milking him dry as he cums inside of you.

There’s only silence mixed with your pitiful whimpers as he slides out of you, grimacing at the sticky mess you’ve made of yourself and him. But that’s what your other hole is for and he orders you to suck him clean, admiring what a quick learner you are, eager to please as you noisily slurp and lick him clean, moaning at the taste of your combined fluids...

Maybe too eager and he shoves you off of him when you become too enthusiastic, his cock beginning to twitch in interest once more.

You look so lost, still sprawled out on the ground, staring up at him with wide imploring eyes as he pulls up his pants. So vulnerable and in need of guidance.

Good thing you have such a great boss to manage you.

“Not bad. Consider these next few days your internship and if all goes well, I’ll be more than happy to hire you as Bouncing Ball’s newest employee this summer. Now clean up this room and show me that my future assistant can do more than just be a slut.”

[nanagoswife]

Noticing You, Noticing Me

Chapter Six

Summary: Reader and Obi-Wan begin the writing of the letters. Throughout the passing months, there's significant moments that neither of them forget...

W/C: 3.3k

Warnings: angst, mention of passed away parent

- - -

The first letter from Obi-Wan came in two days after he had left. At the time, you were walking with Anakin as he was in between meetings. He may have been the one who’d prefer managing the troops, but he could more than hold his own when it came to politics.

Anakin gave you a teasing smirk as the messenger handed you the letter. “Is it from your boyfriend?” he said while playfully nudging his shoulder into yours.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t keep yourself from smiling.

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my… friend.”

Your brother looked at you disbelievingly. “I don’t think you can call someone just a ‘friend’ when you two nearly kissed. Twice.”

Shock filled you. Your eyes widened as you whipped your head to look at him.

“Oh yes. Did you really think Varlo would keep that a secret? Or Padmé?”

Embarrassment filled you. You weren’t surprised about Padmé. Her and Anakin were a couple. What confused you was Varlo telling Anakin about the night at the ball. He seemed like he didn’t care, so you thought he would keep quiet.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stammered.

It caused Anakin to laugh. “It’s fine, sis. I’m happy for you. Prince Kenobi is a good man. Besides, mom and dad seem to even like him.”

You felt your embarrassment change to happiness. “Really?”

“Really,” he said with a soft smile. “I’ll let you get to reading. I’m due for an appointment with Sir Fisto.”

The two of you said your goodbyes before you made your way to the gardens. You once thought that your spot on the bench under your favourite tree was special before, but not like now. Now it was where you and Obi-Wan had spent most of your time together. It was where he held your hand as he comforted you.

When you sat down, you wasted no time. As you read the first words, you smiled.

-

My darling,

I hope that your world at home has felt just that little bit brighter since those days as it has for me. Commander Cody has noticed a change in me, and I am proud to say I know why.

Despite this, I miss you as every second passes. As I promised, I will find a way to visit you again. The moment I know of a day, I will write you immediately to tell you. Who knows? Maybe I’ll know when I’ll be able to see you next in the next few weeks.

Anyways, my dear, I hope you are well and I wait in anticipation to see your first letter. The thought of hearing your thoughts again excites me. Especially if you have any stories from your villages left. I would be more than delighted to hear about the little younglings that vie for your attention.

May this find you well and that you haven’t forgotten me in these days. It would be truly heartbreaking if it were so.

Yours,

Obi-Wan Kenobi

-

You couldn’t get to your room fast enough. It was the only place that you could think of that had a quill and ink and, most of all, privacy. Elation filled you with each quick step you took.

The letter may not have been long, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he missed you just as you missed him. Not only that, but he wants to hear more stories. Perhaps you’ll send him a few. Or would that be too much?

In the end, it didn’t matter. If you knew him, he wouldn’t mind. He’d probably say he’d rather more than less.

So, you took your quill in hand for your reply. Starting off, after saying that you missed him as well and that you felt the same, about his remark about children being ‘younglings’. It was the most adorable thing in the world to you. You only wished that he had called them that when he was still here.

-

And that’s how it began. The two of you wrote each other every day. His letters would always arrive early in the day, and you would write a response just as quickly. This went on for five months.

Some were simply just the two of you conversing back and forth. Others… Well, others were most purely love letters. They were always mainly from Obi-Wan’s end. His way with words was a lot more elegant than yours. Yet he would always let you know that your insecurities were unfounded.

It was always sweet when he made sure that you weren’t being stupid or that you were doing something wrong. Most of all, he helped you through a new transition.

As the days went on, more and more people started paying attention to you. After all of these years, people were finally seeing the work you did for your kingdom. Hardly anyone was using you as a gateway to your brothers. They were truly coming to you!

When you had told Obi-Wan, he was so proud of you. He said how much you deserved the recognition. You had asked if it was his doing but he swore it wasn’t. He may have told a few people about you but he didn’t push them to learn more about what you do.

Padmé, other than Obi-Wan of course, was your biggest supporter. She would rave about how popular you were getting.

Yes, you may be getting popular. Some would say even more than your brothers. Though, a small part of you wished that you could go back to the way it was before. You wanted to go back to the days that only Obi-Wan noticed you.

You had confided in him one day about it. He had written in response: My darling, I understand how you feel. Unfortunately things like this will change. I do apologize if it were due to me, but just think. Maybe this will benefit you in the future. Just think, if you needed assistance in aiding a village or town, you have people who know what you do that would want to help. I hope that you realize how good this could be later on just as I do. If not, then there may be a way to get it closer to how it used to be. Either way, my dear, I hope this makes you feel better.

In truth, it had made you feel better. It made you look at the true benefits your newfound popularity had. Not only that, but it didn’t affect your life as much as you had thought at first. It was just new.

Now, one thing that happened a few times were days that you missed him. Those days it took over your thoughts to the point where you hardly left your room. It usually lasted for a few days and Obi-Wan was always there to talk you through it.

There was one string of days where both of you were in the same slump. Those were some of the deepest conversations you had ever had with each other. Whether it was saying how much the two of you cared for the other, or if you were telling each other about your darkest thoughts.

Obi-Wan had sent this one specific detail that had you simultaneously wishing you were with him and at least glad that he felt he could also confide in you. It was: Sometimes I think of my mother during days like this. I think of how I wish she were still here, to hear her say how happy she is that I found you. I do really believe that she would’ve loved you. And it’s days like this that I miss her the most. It’s days like this where I miss you. Days that I long for your gentle touch against my cheek. Wishing that I could hold you in my arms as we finally have the kiss that never happened. Honestly, darling, I exceedingly wish to be with you during these days and I wish I have found the time to come to you. But this time will still unfortunately have to wait to my dismay.

Forever yours,

Obi

Despite how strongly you agreed with Obi-Wan in that letter, you couldn’t help but feel a warm, bubbly sensation in his signature. You had started calling him Obi in your letters fairly early on. Other than that, him saying forever yours was something he had only recently started saying at the time. It made you smile each and every time.

For him to address himself by your nickname, though, made your heart flutter.

When you had written back, you consoled him when it came to his mother. From what you have told me, she sounds like an amazing woman. I would’ve loved her right back if we had the privilege to meet. As for being in your arms, I also deeply wish to be back there. Each ghosting touch and the feel of your hand in mine makes me yearn to feel it again. I yearn to fully feel the press of your lips to mine rather than a light graze or pressed against my knuckles. I will look forward to the day we meet again.

Your darling,

Y/N

Of those days, they weren’t the deepest of them all, but they were up there. After that, the dark spell of days was shared only ever briefly. Mainly switching between the both of you, each comforting the other as the longing to see the other grew with each passing day.

One day, he had written something that had you puzzled, yet feeling excited. The line was: We will see each other sooner than you know, my dear.

“Varlo, may I ask you something?”

He gave you a mischievous smirk, “I think that just was one.”

You rolled your eyes. “Do you know if anyone is scheduled to visit in the next week?”

Varlo looked off in the distance as he thought. “Other than the people that now only want to talk to you, no. Not that I know of. Why?”

“No reason,” you said, looking back down at the letter. Could he have possibly found a time where he could come back? It would make sense as he didn’t truly tell you that. He probably wanted to make sure he actually could before telling you.

Either way, you wrote your normal reply. Adding in details about how this amazing festival in Naboo was happening in a few days. It was called the Festival of Light and it was something you had always attended. Whether it was because Padmé wanted you there or if you went on your own, it didn’t matter. Other than Anakin, you were usually the only one in your family to go.

You wished that Obi-Wan could see it. It was such a beautiful festival. Your favourite part was the first night where lanterns would be released in the sky. They all floated until they looked like stars themselves, lifting everyone’s dreams in hopes that they will be met.

It was wonderful. What a sight it was to see all of those lanterns become stars. You always had thought that Padmé’s father was a genius to start this tradition. The tradition was well received the minute it was introduced. Although it started before you were born, you had known it all your life. You attended it all your life. Now you wish you could attend it with the one you wished to be with all your life.

That would just have to wait.

-

“I thought you were supposed to be meeting with General Yoda?” you asked Anakin who had his arm linked with Padmé’s. She giggled as Anakin pretended to ponder what you said.

“I was supposed to. A more important matter came up though,” he said with a playful tone. His smirk was a mischievous one as he caught a glance at your friend.

Confusion filled you. What could be more important than a meeting with the high general? With the way he looked at Padmé, though, you assumed that may be the reason. Everyone knew he would drop everything for her.

Anakin looked over at you and you must not have been hiding your confusion as well as you thought you were. To the best of his ability, he nudged his elbow into your arm.

“What? Can I not just spend time with my little sis and my beautiful wife-to-be?”

You rolled your eyes as Padmé spoke, “You mean even more time than you do already?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. It was true. He was almost always with one of you or Varlo. If you tried to separate Anakin from the ones he loved, or at least tolerated, he would have a fit. He craved attention and companionship and you didn’t blame him. It was something that you never knew you needed until you met Obi-Wan.

“Ok, one question you can’t try and dodge, where are we going?”

“Well, you see, sis, that is another question I will dodge. You know why?” You shook your head. He leaned closer whispering, “It doesn’t matter.”

You groaned, slapping your hand against your forehead causing your friend to break into a fit of laughter. All you wanted to know was what he had planned. There had to be something if he no longer was meeting with General Yoda. No one just stood up the man either. Yoda may be a wise and calm man, but he could easily take you down any day. Whether that be physically or verbally.

“Why do you so badly want to know anyways?” Anakin asked. This time sounding genuinely interested.

“No one just reschedules with General Yoda. Especially not you so I’m curious as to the change of plans that involves both Padmé and I.”

Anakin actually seemed shocked by what you said. Almost as if he actually hadn’t thought of an answer to a statement like that. So, he was silent for a few moments. That was, before he finally came up with, “You’ll see.”

Now you were more confused than ever. Was he setting up something with Varlo? Was this all going to be a trick? It wouldn’t be the first and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. Or maybe it was a new person that wanted to meet you.

Thanks to Obi-Wan’s words, you had grown used to constant meetings with people who wanted to ask you about what you do. There were some who asked what was going on between you and Obi-Wan, but those questions usually didn’t last.

You knew there were rumours that people thought the two of you were an item, which was true, but some were disconcerting. Some had thought that he was taking advantage of you for power gain. Others had painted your family in a dark light, saying that they were using you as a way to gain more allies rather than caring about you.

Thankfully, those rumours were rather rare to come across. Plus, Obi-Wan had always told you how they didn’t matter. The two of you found each other, and chose each other on your own. Not because of any outside influence or any ulterior motives.

Your thoughts were racing, unable to settle on one possible answer to what Anakin had planned. You would’ve said Padmé hadn’t known either, if it weren’t for her ultimate calmness. If she were as confused as you, she wouldn’t be as composed or… excited as she seemed to be.

Those racing thoughts were put on hold as your journey led you to the gardens. The sights never failed to put your mind at ease. Now was no exception.

Usually you would come here to read Obi-Wan’s letters. It was free of crowds, leaving you in privacy as you looked over the beautiful handwriting. For a time, you had even kept a satchel that held all of his letters in the garden. That didn’t last long as one day Varlo found them.

In his usual annoying ways, you had to fight to get them back. He teased you, positioning them out of reach until he was done with his entertainment. It was something he did often, lately. Teasing you or playing jokes that would often go too far. A small part of you wondered if it were because he was slowly taking up the role you once held. You hated to see that people no longer seemed interested in Varlo’s political accomplishments. Yet, he didn’t need to take it out on you.

So, the letters had found a different place. A place where Varlo couldn’t find them and hide them and a place that should’ve seemed like a no brainer from the start. Your bedroom.

Even so, the garden was where you would read them. Sometimes you would even write your letters on that bench under the tree.

As the three of you walked through, you listened to the conversation your brother and friend were having. They really were a cute couple, no matter how much you teased them. Listening to them talk only proved this.

The closer you got to the tree, the more you saw excitement grow in both of them even as they seemed to be normally conversing. Now you knew something was up. What kind of plan could Anakin come up with that got them so excited, but never tell you? You thought you were used to being a third wheel before, but this was amplified.

You let it go. It’s not like this was the first time something similar has happened. With that being said, you took a slight lead ahead of the two. A small part of you was hoping that, as soon as you got to the tree bench, you could stay there. That way you could feel close to Obi-Wan although you weren’t.

Continuing on your path, you noticed that Anakin and Padmé were drawing further and further back. Were you walking that quickly, or did they slow down without you realizing. With all of that considered, you just shrugged and kept going. If they wanted to catch up they would tell you.

There was one last corner to turn before you would finally be able to seek some peace.

When you turned the corner, you froze. Were you seeing right? Was this even possible? You turned to look at the other two, but they weren’t there. Was this what they were so excited about? It had to be. Why else would they now have up and disappeared right as you arrive here.

Obi-Wan stood from the bench, facing you with a smile that you could tell he was trying to contain. He still looked just as handsome as the day he had left. The outfit he was wearing was similar to the one he wore at the ball, but much more toned down and casual. Well, casual for royalty anyways.

Tears were building as you smiled bigger than you ever thought you could.

“Obi!” you exclaimed as you could no longer hold back. You ran to him, crashing into his outstretched arms. The feeling of them coming around your back and pulling you in close was enough to make you start sobbing.

“Hello there, darling,” he whispered into your hair. Gently he rubbed your back as he slowly swayed from side to side, refusing to let you go. Even if he did, you wouldn’t.

As you buried your face into his chest you smelled the hint of cinnamon that was mixed with just him.

“I missed you,” you mutter into his chest.

“I missed you too. With all of my being,” he said, making your heart flutter. There were days you never thought you would hear his beautiful voice ever again. You no longer had to worry about that. He was here, holding you as tightly as you were him.

- - -

@stardancerluv @where-fantasy-meets-reality @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @mackycat11 @generousrunawaydonut @imabeautifulbutterfly @animalgirl05 @blondekel77 @cosmicsierra @badbatch-simp24

[roymustangonly]

Valueable Moments

A story in which you are a male Lieutenant working directly under Roy Mustang. 

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST BROTHERHOOD PART ONE SPOILERS!!

Though it always seemed that the man was stressed, you couldn't stand to see Roy in the state that he was currently in: hair pointed outwards in every which way, deep circles beneath his jet black eyes, and his overall sluggish demeanor.

The broken man took his seat at his desk, groaning as he laid his head in his arms for a moment. He didn't care about his appearance around you at the moment, knowing you'd excuse his current behavior. "Good morning, Sir." You chimed, attempting to forecast a bit of your energy towards him. A slightly less painful groan was left in return, causing the edges of your mouth to twinge in sympathy.

Today was a rather slow day, which would work in Roy's favour. It was a Friday morning, with most work being completed already from the previous four work days. There were a few papers that he needed to sign, however they could technically wait until the following week.

Roy didn't seem to move after he uttered that groan, which could only mean that he had fallen asleep. You couldn't help but smile, quietly placing your pen back in its holding cup. You stood from your seat and pushed in the chair carefully, walking over to the Colonel. The position that he was in didn't seem right for his back, so you decided to try to lift him. The man didn't seem like he weighed too much. With a height of 5'8" and a lean muscular composition, he was bound to be within your carrying capabilities. This was where your theories fell flat.

You placed your arm around his two legs, and another behind his back, ready to lift. However, Roy was much heavier than he seemed. He must be carrying more muscle weight than you anticipated. You huffed and removed your arms, gazing back at the man before you. He was still fast asleep. The poor man must not have slept last night. Who could blame him after losing Maes…

You sighed and placed your hand on his head, gently moving each strand of hair from his eyes. Normally he'd never let you do such a thing, but there was no opposition when he was this exhausted. The corners of his mouth moved upwards in a sleepy smile, eyebrows moving from furrowed to relaxed. You heard a quiet noise escape from him as he moved his head slightly, as if he wanted more.

You felt a small ping of excitement as you brushed your thumb from the bottom of his front hairs to the root. Your hand left his head as you removed your jacket, draping it over his shoulders to act as a blanket. You left a final pat on the top of his head as you quietly stepped away.

As you reached your desk you picked up your phone, scrolling the wheel to dial Armstrong's extension. Of course he’d be able to lift the Colonel. Plus, he seemed like he’d help the man. He proved to be an extremely compassionate individual. You tapped your foot quietly as you waited for him to answer, fingers grazing against the curled telephone line. Your mind drifted to what excuses you could make for Roy in the event that someone called. You bit your bottom lip as you brainstormed, nearly jumping out of your skin as you heard Armstrong pick up.

The thoughts that were once invading the weather of your brain were now scattered, like a few calm clouds in a serene evening sky. “Hello?” Armstrong greeted, seeming a tad confused. “Hello, Major Armstrong, this is Lieutenant L/N. I require your assistance in the office if that is all right.” You explained, keeping your tone quiet. “YOU REQUIRE MY ASSISTANCE? OF COURSE! I WILL BE THERE AS SOON AS POSSIBLE! THE ARMSTR-” You felt bad for hanging up abruptly, however even the voice in the telephone was too loud for the sleeping Roy across the room. He grumbled a grumpy noise and buried his head further into his desk, returning back to his immobile state. You sent a swift grin his way and made your way to the door, not wanting the Major to wake him up.

You exited the office and waited patiently for Major Armstrong, humming quietly to yourself. Meanwhile, Armstrong was running down the halls, elated that someone needed him. As you saw the Major, you put a finger to your lips, causing him to slow down in his tracks. He stopped in front of you and whispered… Rather, spoke in a normal tone for average beings. You weren’t sure if he was capable of legitimately whispering. “What do you need help with, Lieutenant?”

You pressed your pointer finger to your lips once again as you opened the door to the office, letting the Major in. His eyes opened wide as he whispered “Is he dead!?!?” You immediately closed the door and rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “The Colonel is asleep, and I’d appreciate it if you kept this between the two of us, Sir. Would you mind helping me lift him to the sofa? He seems quite exhausted and truly deserves the rest.”

Major Armstrong immediately melted and babbled about how kind of you that was, and how noble it was for you to ensure that he rested. You swore you could see hearts appear, framing his head as he continued to gush. When he was finished, he easily lifted the Colonel. Roy stirred a bit in his sleep but didn’t move much, as he was truly exhausted. The Major grinned ear to ear and giddily brought Roy to the sofa, placing him gently down. He gave the Colonel a light pat to the head and retreated back to you, nearly skipping due to the overall joy he was feeling.

You shook your head and let a crooked smile slip as the Major gushed to you. He swore that the Colonel leaned into him, like a small child. Armstrong was shaking with excitement, thanking you again for choosing him. You insisted that you should be thanking him, but he just seemed too damn happy.

As the Major finally exited the room, you rubbed your eyes and began to walk to your desk, stopping in your tracks as you heard your name. “Y/N…” Roy mumbled, eyes just barely open. You immediately turned around, walking over to your superior. You bent down so you were eye-level with Roy. “Yes, sir?” You asked, making sure to keep your voice down. “Why am I here… I n-” “Colonel, you need rest. I was quite unsure if you were even alive a few moments ago. Please do not argue with me, you deserve this rest. I’ve already taken care of everything else.”

He began to protest again, but his arguments were nearly as weak as his ability to stay conscious. You sighed and stood up, adjusting your uniform. “Rest well, Colonel.” You stated, turning back to face your desk. “Y/N wait-” You turned back around. Roy had a hand extended out, mumbling quietly: “Nap with me?” You immediately shut him down. Flirting? In this state? He is too persistent. You couldn’t even tell if he was being serious, due to his tone of voice, as well as not knowing his sexuality.

Roy gazed at you and sleepily smirked. “What if I told you that was an order?” You knew this had to be a joke, but for some reason the delivery of it felt off. You couldn’t help but catch the bit of yearning behind his fake demanding tone. How were you supposed to say no to that? Especially when there was a chance that he was serious. If anything, you could simply state you were following orders. There was no way you could be outed… right?

The thought of doing so made your head spin. You couldn’t tell his intentions and it was a bit overwhelming. The possibility of being outed, and having Roy disgusted with you, caused a wave of anxiety to hit. You began to sweat beneath your shirt, still looking for any sort of social cue. Roy groaned and placed his left hand over his eyes. “You are no fun…” He grumbled. For some reason he sounded genuinely upset, and that was all you needed to hear. Now, you were sure he was serious. “Okay.” He uncovered his eyes and sat up slightly. “Okay?” “Okay.”

You removed your uniform boots and sighed, awkwardly lying next to Roy. For some reason, knowing he was serious made it even more anxiety inducing. Though he was half asleep, Roy noticed your stiffness and wrapped an arm around you, laying his head on your chest. This caused your cheeks to warm. He smirked and closed his eyes, placing his other hand on your abdomen to rest. You moved your arm to support Roy’s head and placed your hand on his shoulder, fully holding him.

You took a few breaths and attempted to calm yourself, oblivious to the fact that Roy could hear your heartbeat. Deep down Roy was as smug as ever, but he decided to keep that to himself, not wanting to add to your anxiety. “Is this… okay?” You mumbled, unsure of how exactly this was supposed to work. Being in the closet caused you to avoid relationships, fearful that someone would harm you, or worse, your partner.

“Yes, Y/N. This is fine.” He stated reassuringly, holding in a chuckle. You exhaled in relief and lifted your right hand, threading your fingers through his hair. Though it seemed spiky, it was surprisingly soft, which was a pleasant surprise. Roy hummed and let you comb through his hair, feeling a bit generous today. Especially since you did agree to comfort him as he slept. Though, he’d never admit this.

You closed your eyes and continued to card your fingers through each strand, feeling the fatigue begin. After a few minutes you opened one eye, peeping down at Roy. He was fast asleep, right arm hugged tightly around your middle. You grinned ear to ear, feeling grateful that you were allowed to see the Colonel in this vulnerable, precious state. You adored seeing his head move slightly upward with each breath you took, and back down when you exhaled.

Was this what relationships felt like? Was your fear causing you to miss out on these moments? You shook these thoughts away, not wanting to ruin this valuable moment. You closed your eyes and held Roy tight, unsure when you’d ever be able to do this again. Even if you couldn’t, this one moment would satisfy you for a lifetime. 

Sorry if this is considered too similar to the last! I’ve been going through a lot lately, and comforting others is really just... stress relief to me. I usually write depending on my mood and I’m sorry if this gets annoying! Any constructive criticism would be great as long as it isn’t too harsh! Thank you for reading!

PS: All my works are unfortunately unedited. I do not have the patience to reread my longer works. Apologies!

                                                                                           Word Count: 1776

[hongism]

ateez reaction to their s/o being pregnant:

he would be absolutely over the moon first of all

beaming overjoyed so thrilled

he would immediately be thinking of names as soon as he gets the news

then he would be asking you all sorts of questions

whether you’re okay, how you’re feeling, whether you need him to more

he would definitely take up more chores around the house for you

he just wants to make sure you have the most painless experience you can possibly have

and if you’re uncomfy or in pain, then he’s gonna feel the same bc it hurts to see him baby in pain :((

will be singing to your stomach every single night before you go to bed

will be playing music for the baby and holding his phone speaker to your stomach 

“how many pairs of socks do you think the baby will need?”

“should we get a backup stroller? no? too much?”

seonghwa was Made to be a parent okay

he has such a caretaker attitude to him and being a parent would be his biggest accomplishment

just having a baby and taking care of you throughout your pregnancy would be his life goals

he would drop Everything for you esp during your pregnancy

and when he first gets the news, he wont want to leave you alone for a second

he might get a bit overbearing at times but it’s all out of love

he Will rub your feet and ankles without complaint

he will OFFER to do it even if you’re like “ew gross honey no”

he just needs to take care of you so don’t deprive him of that he’s fragile too

“i can go to the store right now if you need me to” “you’re making dinner” “and?”

“don’t open the door, i’ll do it for you, okay?”

more under the cut!

yunho would be the Absolute Best Father

he was also made to be a parent

he’s the type who would talk to your stomach constantly throughout your pregnancy

he would tell the baby about his day and your day

he would gush about you and talk about how wonderful you are

would try to help out and do more chores

but somehow he always manages to get the vacuum cord tangled around your houseplant and knocks it over every time

and you’re like “babe just let me do it”

but he’s determined to Help so you just have to let him do it

he would 10/10 be littering you with compliments 24/7

“wow you’re glowing today look at you”

“is that a new outfit? you look amazing!”

yeosang is a sleeper fr bc he might not seem like it but he secretly wants a baby so badly

he might be a little quiet in his excitement and happiness but seriously he’s so!!! 

you’ll probably get calls from the other members like ‘pls shut him up he will not stop talking about the baby’

but he gets shy about showing his excitement in front of you

especially if you’re in pain because he will feel bad for not being able to do more for you

so he’ll suddenly show up with your favorite things and a new blanket or he’ll randomly prepare baths for you

he will do little things that add up a lot bc he just wants to do whatever he can to make you comfortable

“i got your favorite takeout for tonight, i figured you’d want it”

“i went out and bought the baby supplies you had written down”

i keep saying this but honestly all of ateez would be such great dads like come on

and SAN would be a stellar father

he’s so caring and gentle and lovely

such a precious bean :c who just wants to give you the universe

and he’ll want to do the same for the baby too

that’s his baby yes he’s gonna do anything for his child

even before the baby is born, san will be spoiling tf out of her

super fascinated whenever he sees the baby kick

like omg that’s in you?! that’s in you! woah that’s so neat?

he’ll have so many questions too like does it hurt how do you feel all that jazz

he will give you daily massages and sing to you softly to make you feel better :c

“omg i heard a heartbeat” “that’s my stomach growling idiot” “omg the baby spoke to me just now”

“i picked up three strollers today - a day stroller, a night stroller, and a groovy stroller for park days” “you what.”

mingi would be so overjoyed to the point of tears like mans will be sobbing when you tell him you’re pregnant

he won’t know what to say so he’ll just motion to your stomach and cry harder

he’s so ready to be a dad but at the same time he’s really nervous

even when not around you, he will just always be asking questions

the other will be like “he asked about babies for six hours today but i don’t think he retained any information”

he will have a little notebook to keep track of things to do

keeps notes on how to change diapers and how to properly burp and feed a baby

he just wants to make sure everything is Perfect for his little one

writes down little love letters to the baby too once a week

so that he can give them to your child later on

and he would be so excited about it 

“look baby i wrote another letter for mini me!”

“if the baby starts crying in the middle of the night, don’t worry about getting up. i’ll take care of everything”

it would take a minute for wooyoung to realize what’s going on

even if you say “i’m pregnant” he might just go ._. for a minute before he realizes what you’ve said and it really sinks in

then cue loud screaming and happiness

he is still going to be as chaotic and loud as ever

just with a bit more excitement now bc! he’s gonna be a dad! he’s so excited

sometimes though on late nights where you two are up bc you aren’t feeling well

he’ll admit that he’s really scared of messing up along the way

and he worries about whether he’ll be a good father

but he’ll get back to feeling better and less anxious after you talk him down some

he may not be the best helper but! he’s trying his best and that’s all that is important okay

“i got pickles!” “wooyoung i hate pickles” “omg really? i read that pregnant people love pickles :((” “i’ll eat one pickle just for u”

“i’m getting the baby a dinosaur costume so we can set her loose in the dorm and watch her terrorize seonghwa” “wooyoung no”

jongho would try to contain how happy and excited he is

he doesn’t want to startle you with how thrilled he is but he’s over the moon

will probably just sit around and think about it all the time for weeks

10/10 would sit around and laugh and smile to himself while thinking about the baby

the others might call and be like “he’s doing the thing again” so you would have to call and ask him how he’s doing and stuff like that

the two of you could probably spend hours on the phone just talking about the baby

he would 10000% sing to you and the baby both

definitely get on his knees in front of you and sing to your stomach

just too much elation to be contained in his body 

best helper tho like jongho is good at everything and he will Prove it dammit

“i set up the cradle today and put it in the spare room for now, but i’ll move it into our room when the time comes”

“do you think the baby will recognize our voices by the time she’s born? will she recognize my singing?”

[nerdywriter36]

POTOber Day 3 - "My God, this place really is haunted"

day 3 prompts - taunting/insults/Prima Donna

this oneshot - a modern Cherik AU - was written together with my best friend; she wrote the first half and i finished it off! she isn't on Tumblr, but she wanted to be sure that we shared this piece with everyone! <3

AO3

FFN

Christine looked out the window and sighed as she watched the taxicab slow to a halt behind the car in front of them. Turning her head, she exchanged a glance with her boyfriend and smiled slightly. "Well, another stoplight," she remarked, her tone soft.

"So it would appear." He noticed some water splash onto the window out of the corner of his eye, and couldn't help but laugh quietly to himself when Christine groaned quietly. "Don't fret, my darling. I'm sure none of this will delay our arrival by very long."

"I know, I know. I suppose I just don't want to miss anything, and the rain tends to affect traffic," Christine replied, sighing again. She shuffled across the backseat and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I have been looking forward to this all week, and I don't want our night to be ruined."

Erik smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly to him. "My Christine, I can promise you that, even if we are a bit late, it will not ruin our evening," he said softly, his lips pressing gently to her forehead. "Now, let me see you smile."

Christine chuckled quietly, looking up at him. She pressed a kiss to the synthetic skin of his mask. "I really wish you would stop wearing your prosthetic when we go out. You look so much more handsome without it."

Sighing, her boyfriend reached up a hand and gently ran it down one side of his face. "You know why I wear it, Christine," he muttered softly. Apparently not wishing to discuss the topic any further, he said in a more confident tone: "You know, I'm still not at all happy about the fact that my father's successor was chosen for him when he retired. I hear that the new manager—this Monsieur Choleti—knows nothing about music, and he bought his way in because his wife is an opera singer."

"I heard the same. I tried Googling her to find out how well she sings, but I didn't come up with anything," Christine replied. "I only hope she's decent."

"Only decent? If she's anything less than astonishing, I'm sending them a very strongly worded letter," Erik said with a nod.

His girlfriend laughed, and he laughed with her, but they both knew that he was entirely serious. Eventually, Christine remarked that she wouldn't blame him in the least if he were to take such action.

At some point during their conversation, the cab had begun moving again without the two realizing, and very soon, they arrived at the Palais Garnier. The rain was pouring by that time.

Erik quickly paid the driver and got out of the car with his girlfriend. Immediately, he slipped off his suit jacket and held it over her head to protect her from the rain as they ran inside.

"Erik, that wasn't necessary," Christine said with a quiet laugh, opening the door for her boyfriend. "Thank you, though."

"It was my sincere pleasure," Erik replied, smiling fondly at her as he slipped the jacket back on. Offering her his arm, he led her further into the building. The two made their way up to Erik's private box—box number five—and took their seats, both of them sighing contently as they did so.

"I'm so relieved that the show hasn't started yet," Christine said with a smile, setting her purse on her lap. Unzipping one of the side pockets, she produced a brand new bag of M&Ms and promptly tore it open.

Erik eyed her disapprovingly. "Did you really bring chocolate candies to an opera?" he asked, trying to hide his amusement with a frown.

"Yes, I did. Would you like some?" Christine offered, holding the bag out to him. She smiled when he reluctantly took a handful and popped a few into his mouth. A few moments of silence passed between them while she observed the architecture. "You know, I heard some ridiculous rumour about there being some sort of ghost haunting this place. Apparently, the ghost moved in shortly after the new manager took over. Have you ever heard anything so absurd?"

Laughing quietly, Erik shook his head. "I can't say that I have."

Christine opened her mouth to reply, but her attention was quickly diverted when the house lights dimmed and music swelled from the orchestra. "Erik, look, it's starting!" she whispered with great excitement.

Erik smiled at her elation and wrapped an arm around her shoulders before he focused his attention on the music playing. The instrumental part of the opening song was enjoyable; however, he couldn't help but cringe as soon as the Prima Donna, Carlotta Choleti, began to sing, her loud, shrill vibrato ringing out over the audience. "My God, this place really is haunted. What is that?" he asked quietly, his brow creasing in a deep frown.

Christine snorted, taken aback by her boyfriend's blunt comment, and threw her hand over her mouth to try to muffle her laughter as best she could. "Erik, oh my gosh," she said through her laughter, leaning her head against his shoulder.

"She can't sing!" Erik replied in a hushed tone. "You're hearing this too, aren't you?"

"Well, she doesn't seem to be aware of the fact that she can't sing."

"Someone needs to tell her, then. Spare her the effort of trying to make a career."

Christine shook her head fondly and tucked her head in the crook of Erik's neck, reaching over to take his hand. "Do you want to leave?" she whispered.

"No, no," Erik replied with a sigh. "You've been so looking forward to this, I would hate to ruin your fun. Besides, I'm sure the rest of the show will be lovely, so I will make a sincere effort to put up with her so you can enjoy the show."

"Well, thank you. But if you're going to be miserable, we don't have to stay. We can go to some other show that we know she won't be in."

Erik simply shook his head and kissed the crown of her head. "I'll survive. I have you, so it won't be any trouble."

Christine smiled and nodded, the pair then falling quiet as they watched the show. She had to admit that Carlotta's voice was not easy on the ears and she could hear the odd sharp inhale or muttered comments from her sweetheart, but the pair made it through to intermission without incident.

"Well, we made it," she said, pressing a kiss to Erik's cheek.

"We made it halfway," Erik said with a sigh and a shake of his head. "We still have another hour and a half to go, and I don't know if I'll make it."

With a quiet laugh, Christine got to her feet and smoothed out her dress. "Well, we will make it together. For now, I need to step out to the restroom, but I'll be back in a moment."

"What? No, no, don't do that."

Christine frowned. "Why not?"

"Because you could get stuck in line and miss the beginning of the second half, which would leave me to watch the beginnings of the horrors of another hour listening to Carlotta, which might just prompt me to throw myself over the edge of this box," Erik replied. "Just go when the show is over."

With a roll of her eyes, Christine leaned over to kiss him, cupping his cheeks in her hands. "I promise I will make it back before then," she said, patting his face. "You'll be fine. I love you."

"I think that's debatable right at this moment, but sure, go ahead," Erik replied; he was pretending to be annoyed, she could tell, but she could see a smile pulling at the corners of his lips. "I love you too. Enough to put up with Carlotta butchering this opera."

"Well, I am truly honoured, darling."

"As you should be."

[starculler]

Lead Me Down Another Road (preview)

Word Count: 2975

I fell into a minor rabbit hole and stand before you now with a scrap from the Crèchemaster Anakin AU I'm working on. The full fic is a few thousand words longer than this (and will go up on ao3 within the week), but this is technically the original bit I'd planned on writing (and is thus self-contained enough that I'm comfortable posting it alone here. As a treat). Hope y'all enjoy it and the glimpse of at least one of several Jedi OCs I've been having to come up with for this lol Note: I'm using crèche-minder in place of crèchemaster because it fits a little better with how I've set up the role in the au -- the particulars of which will be explored in the full fic.

Anakin stood from where he’d sat among the younglings in Targon Clan when he caught sight of his master standing just inside the room, all ten pairs of eyes straying from their painting to watch him stretch. He grimaced briefly at the splotches of bright paint he could already see on his tunic and pants, but made it a point to smile at a scowling nautolan making a grab at his ankle. He shuffled back, just out of reach, and had to dodge another two pairs of eager, sticky fingers with a put-upon sigh that failed to fully mask his amusement. It was the same song and dance every time he was sent to Knight D’nali for crèche-duty, and he’d long gotten wise to the initiates’ tricks.

What made today’s game of Catch-the-Padawan novel was Obi-Wan’s presence hovering at the edges of Anakin’s focus. His master hadn’t come to collect him like this since his first few weeks, confident that Anakin would neither get lost on his way to and from the crèche, nor try to dodge his punishment after that awful first and final attempt. He shuddered at the memory even as he leaped nimbly over a pair of near-humans who’d thought to tackle him from behind. He laughed when they turned, eyes wide and betrayed for a moment before trying for a frontal attack.

He dodged, weaving between ten tiny, determined younglings — baiting them with the promise of his capture before stepping just out of reach once more — until he hit something solid from behind. He blinked, stunned for a second and sure that he’d had enough space still to maneuver around, only to yelp when an arm snaked around his waist and pulled him off his feet with an ease that spoke of more than a little help from the Force.

“Master!” He groaned, his protest drowned out by mixed cheering and jeering from Targon Clan and their minder’s own loud laughter. Anakin shot Knight D’nali as much of a betrayed look as he could while caught, but the traitor only laughed harder. He huffed.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, grinning and smug and just as much of a traitor as the kiffar knight, “it seems I’ve won a prize to take back with me. A whole padawan all for myself.” A chorus of “No’s” and groaning followed the statement, and Anakin, face warmer than it had been a minute ago, suddenly found the floor much more interesting than a gaggle of disappointed initiates. Obi-Wan, still being a traitor, only laughed.

“Alright, alright. Settle down now,” Knight D’nali interrupted, wading into the chaos so she stood between them and the younglings. “Knight Kenobi and Padawan Skywalker have other duties to attend to, and you little Jedi have a latemeal to prepare for.”

With only a mild amount of protest, the little ones acquiesced. In true, and still vaguely eerie to Anakin, Jedi fashion, they bowed in sync, calling out a discordant mix of goodbyes and thank yous. Anakin nodded in return, starting to wriggle in his master’s grip in a futile attempt to free himself. Obi-Wan held fast even after two of the younglings, a zabrak and the same nautolan who’d first tried to grab onto him, crept around Knight D’nali to hand him four sheets of flimsi splattered with a variety of bright, clashing paint.

He sighed, resigned to the embarrassment of being gifted their paintings under the too-amused gazes of both knights, and murmured a quiet “Thanks” that made the pair smile so wide he thought their faces might split. Their obvious happiness made something warm bubble up in his chest and his hand tingle where flimsi met skin. It was hardly the first time one of the younglings in any of the clans he frequented had given him something small like this to take back with him — he had a wall in his room dedicated to doodles and paintings and a corner set aside, free of his usual clutter, for knickknacks and crafts — but the shock and awe and tingling warmth it left in him never wore off.

Anakin’s gifts had never lied with children. His temper ran too hot and he never quite knew what to say to anyone his age, much less younger than him. It had, in fact, taken months of constant supervision, patience, and teaching from the crèche-minders who’d agreed to take on his crèche-duty punishments for him to build up any sort of rapport with the little ones under their care. It had been hard and frustrating, but ultimately rewarding, work even if it had been borne out of his master’s own frustrated desperation.

The arm around his waist squeezed briefly, and Anakin had to fight down yet another burning flush when he realized Obi-Wan had most likely noticed where his thoughts had wandered. He floundered for something to say or do, but settled for a heavy sigh that drew a brief chuckle from his master.

“I apologize again for stealing Anakin back so early, Knight D’nali,” Obi-Wan said and Anakin could picture the apologetic smile on his face as he spoke.

“No need,” said Knight D’nali, smiling just enough that the wrinkles in her eyes and the upward pull of her cheeks distorted the two, bright red tattoos — one line the width of her thumb and the other no more than half a centimeter — cutting vertically down from hairline to jaw over her right eye. “I may be getting older, but I remember well enough how busy a padawan’s life can be.”

“You’re not that old,” Anakin groused and earned himself a huff from his master and a bark of laughter from Knight D’nali.

“That’s sweet of you padawan, but the gray in my hair tells another story. And not another word about it,” she said the second Anakin opened his mouth. “There’ll be no buttering up this old knight. I told you, if you’re back here in less than a week I will sit this clan down for a four-hour meditation at least. Force knows your master certainly won’t object.”

“Yes Knight D’nali,” he said in the dull tone every chastised padawan seemed to affect, much to Targon Clan’s delight if their stifled giggling was any indication. Knight D’nali simply nodded, satisfied. Obi-Wan, again, laughed.

“And on that note, we’ll be taking our leave now. Knight D’nali.” Obi-Wan bowed as well as he could with an armful of padawan still pinned against him. “Targon Clan.” He offered the still-giggling younglings a much shallower bow. “May the Force be with you,” he said, echoed only a moment after by Anakin, before turning on his heel and striding out into the hall.

Anakin wriggled again and said: “Master, you can put me down now.” Obi-Wan hummed but didn’t so much as slow down until Anakin huffed, rolled his eyes, and added an only somewhat petulant “Please.”

It took him a moment to find his balance when Obi-Wan suddenly let go, but soon enough he was keeping pace with his master, just shy of being at the knight’s side. They walked in silence, past the doors to other clans of exuberant younglings and down the almost confusing pattern of turns that made up the Temple’s Crèche. It was, he knew, meant to be confusing so that intruders would have a harder time reaching the Jedi’s most vulnerable members on the off chance they made it through the Temple, guards, and every Jedi in between. He also knew that Obi-Wan was purposefully leading him through the longest route rather than the faster shortcuts one of the other crèche-minders, a young pantoran knight he’d only met with a few times so far, had taught him.

They nodded at the pair of guards stationed at the Crèche’s primary entrance once they’d finally made it through, and again to any Jedi they passed along the main corridor. Anakin glanced curiously at his master when he led them not towards the dormitory or refectory, but instead toward the salles and meditation rooms. He pursed his lips, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

The salles meant lightsaber practice — Anakin’s favorite — but he doubted they’d stop there. He had, after all, been in the crèche because he’d let his temper get the best of him again, and Obi-Wan had made a point of steering Anakin away from as many potentially aggressive outlets as he could until he was sure Anakin was cool-headed. That didn’t stop him, however, from reaching for the lightsaber on his belt, shiny and still new considering he’d only just built it less than half a year ago. The trip to Ilum had been terrifying and exciting in equal measure, just the two of them instead of waiting for the next crèche clan’s planned gathering. It still awed him sometimes, to brush the warm, steel cylinder and find it there or to sit and listen to his crystal’s song virtually anytime he wanted.

It was a scrap of undeniable proof that he was a Jedi. That, late-comer or not, he belonged here just as much as any other padawan or knight.

Obi-Wan slowed, looking back at Anakin with the kind of unbearably soft, caring smile that told him his master had probably felt where his thoughts had gone. He held an arm out and Anakin hesitated a moment at the familiar invitation, torn between embarrassed frustration and elation at being invited close in a fairly public space, before stepping up so he was beside rather than behind Obi-Wan. He stiffened when Obi-Wan put an arm around his shoulder, but relaxed before his master could even think about pulling away. Anakin pressed into his side, deciding that, right now, eleven-nearly-twelve wasn’t too old for the show of affection, and just about melted when Obi-Wan’s arm shifted to briefly squeeze his shoulder.

His vain hope for the salles was, of course, dashed as they walked passed to duck into one of the smaller, unoccupied meditation rooms. Despite not wanting to complain, Anakin couldn’t completely stifle a sigh as he took in the room: bland, small, and box-shaped, with a few colorful cushions laid out and more stacked against the walls with a few other types of seating for those who might need it. Obi-Wan flashed him a quick smile, squeezing his shoulder once more before letting go and settling on an older-looking, dark blue cushion. Anakin breathed in, held it for a count of four, and breathed out in an effort to brace himself for the ensuing lecture or meditation he was sure to suffer. He picked up a red cushion from the far wall, calling it to his hands with the Force, and sat himself down in front of his master, close enough that their knees almost touched. Then, he waited.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan started after they’d sat in silence for a few tranquil-bordering-on-nerve-wracking minutes, their slow, even breathing the only sound in the room. Anakin met his master’s gaze, shifting slightly as a small kernel of icy unease sprang to life in the pit of his stomach. “You’re not in trouble, Padawan.” Obi-Wan smiled, still soft. Still caring. Anakin frowned.

“You don’t usually bring me here unless I am.”

“I suppose I do, don’t I?” He seemed to speak mostly to himself, brow furrowed and a wry twist to his lips, like he’d found something funny. Anakin cocked his head to one side, watching as Obi-Wan breathed deeply a few times like he was trying to center himself. Or, a traitorous part of his mind whispered, bracing himself. Anakin squirmed in place, hardly daring to breathe himself as the unease in his stomach grew a fraction larger. “I’ve been talking to a few of the crèche-minders you’ve been working with.” Anakin swallowed, thoughts flitting towards the many mistakes he’d made the last few months and especially at first. “They’ve given you rather glowing reviews if I do say so myself,” he said, a small but pleased curl in his lips. And Anakin—

Anakin blinked.

“Really?” he asked, and wished the question hadn’t come out quite so bewildered. His master grinned and Anakin swore there was pride gleaming somewhere in his eyes.

“Really. They’ve enjoyed having you there. Knight D’nali says you have an uncanny ability for distraction,” Obi-Wan teased. Anakin stuck his tongue out and earned himself a bark of laughter. “Master Benni,” he continued, sobering once more, “made an interesting suggestion when I spoke to him last week. I—” Obi-Wan stopped. Inhaled.

“Master?”

A fine tremor had started in Anakin’s hands at some point. Excitement at first, quickly drowned out by a fresh wave of nerves. He’d once thought, at first, that Tatooine would drown in rain the day Obi-Wan Kenobi didn’t have a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue. A nearly three-year partnership with the knight had broken the facade a bit by now, but the sight of Obi-Wan struggling to put his thoughts together unnerved Anakin even after his master smiled reassuringly, reaching forward to clasp one of Anakin’s hands between both of his.

“There are many paths to becoming a Jedi, as I’m sure you’ve learned by now. Guardians, Council members, diplomats, teachers … crèche-minders,” he said, emphasizing the last. Anakin’s breath caught, eyes wide as the implication sunk slowly in.

“Did— Did Master Benni,” Anakin started, strangled and halting. Obi-Wan nodded. “But—But I’m horrible with younglings! I’ve made so many mistakes. I—”

“You are learning, Anakin. No one expects you to be perfect at anything. Much less in dealing with younglings.” Anakin opened his mouth. Closed it. Floundered in his incomprehension until—

“Are you … Are you getting rid of me?” he asked, voice suddenly small and hurt. He turned his hand in Obi-Wan’s grip, wrapping his smaller fingers around his master’s wrist as if he would disappear from Anakin’s sight at any moment.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly, one of his thumbs stroking the back of Anakin’s hand. “You are my padawan, Anakin, and I will never abandon you.” Obi-Wan paused there, earnest and scorching in his focus until Anakin nodded, more numb than anything else at the moment. Satisfied, his master continued: “But I do think that this is a good opportunity for you.” Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked down to their hands and then back up, meeting Anakin’s once more, steady and confident and calm. “You’ve changed a little since you’ve been around the crèches. I can see a confidence in you that wasn’t there before, and better control. Not just with the Force, though I’ve no doubt entertaining younglings for hours has done wonders.” Anakin flushed, fuzzy warmth buzzing in his chest at the praise.

“You feel things — everything — so strongly, Anakin, and I fear I’ve not been able to help you much in that regard.”

Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but snapped it shut when Obi-Wan held a hand up for silence and settled for a quiet pout instead, much to his master’s amusement.

“I appreciate your faith in me,” he said with a nod, “and I do not doubt that you would learn a lot at my side alone. But I’m coming to realize where you might need more than I am able to give, not because I don’t want to. Force knows I’d do whatever I could to help you, Anakin, but there are simply things I won’t be able to understand. Haven’t been able to understand,” he added and Anakin frowned at the brief, bitter note he could pick out in his master’s tone. “Master Benni’s offer has as much to do with your potential as it does with your connection to both the initiates and their minders. I— We think it’s something you should consider, despite how it’s likely not the path you first envisioned for yourself.

“You will still be my padawan, always,” he said and squeezed Anakin’s hand to reinforce the sentiment, “but you would split your time between myself and a rotating number of the crèche’s minders under Master Benni’s supervision. You’ll be busy, and kept in the Temple more often than not even if I’m sent out on missions. It may cut into your classes or lightsaber training, in which case you’ll have to work harder to keep up, but there’s not a doubt in my mind that you could do it.”

Anakin nodded, mind whirling and thoughts spinning. There was more Obi-Wan wanted to say, he could tell, but Anakin was grateful for the lull granted to him to gather his thoughts.

“I—” Anakin swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry. He held his master’s wrist a fraction tighter. “Can I think about it?” He winced at how his voice cracked, but Obi-Wan only nodded, smile still firmly in place.

“Of course. You don’t have to decide on anything until you’re ready. Master Benni made it quite clear to me that the offer is open to you whenever you wish to take it, whether that time is now or after you’ve been knighted.”

Anakin blinked, balking at the magnitude of not only the offer, but the old Master’s apparent faith in him, even as the buzzing warmth from earlier threatened to consume him fully now. He felt a fresh flush rise on his cheeks and a sheen of stinging tears prick at his eyes, held back by sheer force of will because he refused to waste the water just yet. Slowly, carefully, Obi-Wan squeezed his hand before leaning forward, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Anakin’s outer tunic. When he pulled, Anakin went as easily as he used to into his mother’s arms, overwhelmingly grateful for the contact just then.

“I’ll think about it, Master,” he mumbled into Obi-Wan’s robes, his face pressed into his master’s chest. “Thanks.”

Obi-Wan only hummed in response, tucking Anakin close and rubbing soothing circles into his back while Anakin clutched at him in return.

[lilyharvord]

Sun

OH OH BABY. It’s MOTHER’S DAY. You know what that means…. :))))  It’s time to celebrate Mare Barrow. While I’m working on the next chapter of the Chain, I figured I’d give you guys this. This next chapter is gonna have to steep like a fine tea cause it’s Cal and the Colonel going head to head and those conversations need to be GOOD. LOL it’s unedited too, sorry. ALSO AVAILABLE ON AO3: link 

Rain patters against the window next to me, but the day outside is too dreary and grey for the event that occurred this morning. I couldn’t care less though, my entire focus is on the little bundle squirming in my arms. My son is as restless as he was inside of me. Still, I smile down at him as I lean back further into the pillows so I can see him better. He looks like me, and like Shade. My heart breaks a fraction at the thought, and heals at the same time. I never thought I’d see my brother’s face again, but there it is, on my son’s.

A tiny gasp draws my eye to the doorway, and my face splits into an elated grin as Coriane sprints across the room and tries to leap onto the bed.

“Momma!” She cries as she only manages to get the top half of her body up. Cal’s right behind her to lift her the last foot so she can crawl across the sheets to me.

“Hello darling.” I laugh as she nuzzles into my side. “I’ve only been gone a day, but you are acting like it’s been forever.”

“It was forever!” She bemoans, her large amber eyes growing impossibly wider as she tries to wind her arms around one of mine. “Grandma told me I had to sit and be quiet but it was so long.”

I don’t need an imagination to picture how that went. My child has more energy than a lightning storm. She bounces around rooms with a smile bright enough to power Ascendant for the rest of its existence, but she can be loud, and a handful if Cal or I isn't there to keep her in check.

“I hope you were good.” I murmur, earning a bright red blush from her as she turns her eyes to Cal. He sink down on the edge of the bed as she crawls away to sit in front of him. Nearly identical features mirror each other as he raises a brow at her when she looks up at him. That simple fact is a reminder of why I’m holding another baby right now. I may have carried and birthed Coriane into the world, but she is her father’s daughter in all aspects. She looks like him, she mimics almost every one of his expressions, and she follows him around like a duckling. The only distinguishing factors are her burning Red blood, and my skin color and mass of curls. I wanted one more to even the score when I realized that maybe she was more of a daddy’s girl than we had originally thought. And I got my wish, which makes me happier than a bird taking flight.

“I was.” She replies when Cal doesn’t step to her immediate defense like he normally does. Which just tells me she was opposite of good and I may have to find a way to thank my parents for watching her.

Her eyes fall to her brother and she edges away from Cal to get closer to me, a strange silence and stillness falling over her. She sits on her haunches next to me, her eyes trained on the little baby sleeping in my arms. She reaches a tentative hand out, but pulls it back quickly, as if thinking better of touch him.

“It’s all right.” I assure her, before shifting Shade so she can see him better. She leans forward, her eyes blinking a few times as she takes in his now sleeping face. With one of her fingers, she touches the tip of his nose and then traces his cheek.

“His skin is so soft.” She whispers, before looking up at me with wide eyes.

“Yours was too.” Cal teases before leaning forward with her. I haven’t let him hold Shade yet, and he may be getting a little impatient that it’s been a few hours. I wanted my time with him first, and he had willingly given it to me. He knew from the moment I found out it was boy that this was going to be my baby for a while. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to hold his son though.

“He’s so small. Was I that small?”            “You were actually smaller.” I smile weakly at the memory of her little body settling in my arms for the first time. Tears begin to build in my eyes at the memory and I roll them at the hormones that will take a while to calm down, before wiping the tears away.

Coriane watches my movement with a curious tilt of her head. That’s not one of Cal’s movements. A part of me flutters in surprise at the concept. She must be starting to develop her own mannerisms. Julian told me she would eventually, when she got old enough to start building her own personality. And she certainly is doing just that.

“I’m not sad darling.” I say, even though another tear slips by and falls down my check. She still wears her concern like Cal though, between her brows which scrunch just slightly.

Reaching my hand out, I curl my arm around her little shoulders and pull her into my side. She settles on her knees so she can press into me at a comfortable angle. “Sometimes, people are so happy, they can’t hold it in and it comes out as tears.”

“Having a new baby made you so happy you are crying?” Coriane reasons as she reaches a hand out for Shade again. He blinks open honey colored eyes and yawns. My daughter’s face splits into a bright grin as he weakly closes his hand around two of her little fingers.

I don’t know what gods to thank for the fact that she does not think we’re replacing her, or handling this like any of my siblings did when a new baby came. I remember thinking Gisa was the worst thing my mother ever made, simply because she took my parent’s attention away from me for a bit. Coriane hasn’t shown us that she’s acting like that. In fact, she had been the opposite side of the spectrum. She might have been more excited at the prospect of the baby than we were.

“Both of you make me so very happy I can’t hold it in.” I whisper to her before pressing a kiss on her hair. Never in my wildest fantasies did I see this day coming. I may have had faint visions of children when I lived in the Stilts, but those thoughts had never been serious. I had been so focused on simply getting through the day, I hadn’t thought about the months or years to come. I didn’t want to bring a child into the mud and the life that I had been forced to live. I didn’t even really want to bring one into this new world that we were all forging from the broken pieces of the old. But Coriane had moved inside of me, and I had become so sure of the path I was walking that when I finally saw her face, I knew I had made at least one right decision in my life.

Cal’s hand is warm on my knee as he gentle massages the joint with his thumb. Laying my cheek on Cori’s head, I smile at him. He returns the gesture. He looks tired, maybe just as tired as I do. We have a long couple years ahead of us too. Piedmont tries to march on the States every other month, and the Lakelands puddle along to the beat of their own drum, no matter how hard Evangeline tries to beat a different one. Tiraxes and Prairie refuse to hear talks or peace. We’ll be called on sooner rather than later. I know now more than ever, I will be loath to leave this little slice of peace that Cal and I have carved out over the years. There is war and strife all around us, but at least for this moment, we are together.

Pressing another long kiss to Coriane’s head, I whisper to her. “Your brother’s name is Shade.”

“Daddy told me.” Coriane replies in kind. “Grandma said it’s a special name like mine. That it was your brother’s name.”

“It was.” I try to keep my voice even, but it breaks on that admission all the same. Cal’s hand grows a little warmer, and he squeezes my knee a little tighter. There’s no room for him this high up on the bed, but he still wants me to know he’s here. I couldn’t be more grateful for him in this moment.

Coriane rests her head in crock of my shoulder and says, “He’s Clara’s daddy.”

“He was. And he would have loved both of you.”

Shade would have loved my daughter like he loved his own. I know he would have, and he would have teased Cal mercilessly the whole time. His absence is like a knife in my heart still, but the blade has dulled over the years. My son has dulled that blade further, and I suppose removed it an inch.

“Can I hold him?” Coriane breathes her question so quietly I almost miss it.

When I don’t respond to she looks to Cal and then back up to me for permission. I hesitantly push her hair behind her ear in response to her gaze.

“Dad hasn’t held him yet.” I murmur in answer, and her little lips immediately purse into a pout.

Cal rises from the bed in the rustle of sheets before scooping her into his arms and sinking down next to me with Cori in his lap. “We can hold him together.” He says to her with a smile that is reserved only for her. She grins back up at him, before turning that shining look on her brother. She practically vibrates out of Cal’s lap as I reluctantly give him over to them.

Even though Cal takes most of Shade’s weight in his hands, it’s Coriane’s body that Shade presses up against. He squirms for a moment, not happy with being shifted so much so soon, but settles quickly as Cal adjusts for him.

Coriane’s eyes open wide and her mouth opens in a little circle as she whispers, “he’s heavy momma.”

“You don’t need to tell me that darling.” I can’t help the comment. It slips past the filters I built after having my daughter. She’s getting older though, and she understands those sideways jokes for the most part now.

           “Be careful, make sure you don’t move too much.” Cal warns her when she squirms and tries to hold him by herself.

           “She’s all right, let her try.” I nod down to our children and Cal watches me for a heartbeat, trying to judge my comment. When I don’t say anything else, he adjusts his grip and lets Coriane take the full weight of her brother. She takes to him like a duck on water, and grins up at me when he nuzzles into her chest. I return her smile, joy oozing out of me. The lights overhead flicker for a moment, and then buzz louder as my emotion tries to manifest as something else.

           Cal smirks at me, but I can feel the pride and heat that rolls off of him in waves. He can’t hide it either. He wanted this as much as I did. I’ve always known he would be a good father, whether or not I was the mother of those children had remained to be seen. But it happened, and I couldn’t be happier to be doing this with him, to be growing our family and trying to carve out a place for them in the world.

           “He looks beautiful.” Cal leans around Coriane to whisper that to me, trying not to disturb the moment our daughter is having as she coos nonsense to Shade. Clara did the same thing to her when we brought Cori home and let my niece stick her head into the bassinet to say hello. The memory brings another wave of happiness over me that immediately makes the lights buzz again.

           “He’s healthy, and that’s all that matters to me.” I reply with a smile before letting him press a gentle kiss to my lips.

           “You were faster this time. Even your mother was impressed.” He teases before pulling back to avoid the sparks I try to snap at his cheek with. He smooths Coriane’s curls as he gives me a mischievous smirk she completely misses. I hope she never sees that smile, because then she’ll start copying it, and I don’t think I can take my child smirking at me like that.

           “Momma.” Coriane calls for me again, forcing me to switch my scowl for a smile instantly. She tries to wiggle and offer Shade back to me, her face pinched with her effort. Cal almost dives forward to make sure he makes it back into my arms, and I have to move just as quickly to avoid him falling into my lap. He makes it nonetheless, and I breathe a tiny sigh of relief as I sink back. Coriane, oblivious to the moment as much as a child can be, immediately starts trying to cliimb all over Cal. Apparently she was done sitting still.

           Cal manages to wrap an arm around her when she throws herself over his shoulder and says, “I wanna go play with Clara again.”

           “You don’t want to stay with momma and Shade?” Cal asks her as he twists to catch her and guide her back into his lap. She giggles at the game immediately does the whole thing again.

           “I wanted to make sure momma was okay. She’s okay.” Coriane dangles from his shoulder again and gives me an upside down smile from around Cal’s back. “And Shade’s okay too. I wanna go play now.”

           Cal pulls her back through and manages to wrangle her into stillness before saying, “let’s try to stay together as a family for a little bit.”

           Immediately she pouts, and her eyes glint as she glances at the door. I know that look, and it does not belong to Cal. That’s my brain turning wheels over and planning how to escape.

           “Just for a little bit darling.” I whisper as I reach out to brush my fingers through her hair. She glances at me, drawn like a magnet. I wonder if she’s an Ardent, an electricon like me who senses the electricity that dances under my skin. We haven’t had her tested, and we don’t want to know either. Let her be normal for a bit.

           Her pout melts away and she lets Cal hold her a bit closer before moving closer to me so we’re all squished together. I’d normally protest the discomfort, but right this moment, I want all of them as close as possible. A warm arm slides around my shoulders and I sigh before sliding into Cal’s embrace and resting my head as best I can against him. Coriane wiggles between us, trying to get comfortable, until she ends up in the crevice between our bodies. She’s already getting too big to squeeze into that space, and soon Shade will be that size and then they’ll both be grown. When they are, they’ll be taller than me, Sara told me as much. I don’t mind that though. I’d hate for my children to be burdened with my height.

           “This is the last one.” I whisper to Cal after a few minutes of being lulled by his warmth. Coriane sighs as I shift, and when I glance down, it’s to see her eyelashes fluttering as she dreams. I hope they’re happy dreams, tinged pink and covered in honey. She deserves that life, and I plan to carve it into existence with my bare hands for her and for Shade.

           “You said that after Cori.” I can hear the laughter in Cal’s voice at the same time that I feel his lips curl into a smile against my temple.

           “I’m serious this time. I’m fine with being a mother twice over. But if you get me pregnant again, I will kill you, Tiberias.” I murmur, but the threat loses all power as I smile down at Shade who grabs a tiny fistful of my shirt.

           His laugh is quiet, but deep and wonderful. I love that he laughs so much these days, that I laugh just as much. His fingers brush along the scars that reach up the back of my neck as he whispers, “But you make such a wonderful mother.”

           I can’t help but smile, even at the same time that I swear to myself that Shade will be the last one.

[animatedarchives]

hi, hon! i absolutely adored your katsuki imagine, so i thought i’d request a shoto imagine. could you do an imagine where the reader’s in a quirk marriage with shoto, but the reader’s actually happy with it cuz they love the idea of love, and they think shoto’s really cute? thank you! ❤️

author’s note: HIIII CLARISSAAA i’m sorry this took so LoNG i really tried my best to write this so i really hope you like it!! thanks for requesting and for all your support I LOVE YOUUU ❤️❤️

MARRIAGE WITHOUT LOVE

— 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎

genre: fluff with a little bit of angst (because who am i without it)

warnings: unrequited love

word count: 2.3k words

“Will you marry me, Y/F/N?” 

Shoto’s words echoed in your mind, the nostalgic feeling of butterflies returning as you fondly remembered his proposal. A warm smile settled upon your beautifully drawn face, your bright orbs looking tearfully at the magnificent double doors in front of you.

It was finally happening.

A warmth bubbled in your stomach as the doors finally swung open, welcoming you in with a shower of delicate rose petals. Time seemed to slow and the world faded into the background; the melodious music never reached your ears and the uncountable stares and open mouths went unnoticed. Your eyes - made up with beautiful eyeshadow and a light coat of mascara - focused on one thing and one thing alone: him. You didn’t even remember kissing your father’s cheek as he left your side to take his seat. All you knew was the feeling of your small, dainty hands slipping into Shoto’s gentle but strong ones.

A small voice inside your head nibbled away at your consciousness, trying to drag you out of the clouds and back into the harsh reality. But as you looked at the man standing in front of you, the very same one you fell in love with, your heart began to swell and you pushed those thoughts aside, wanting to remain in your rose-coloured world for a little while longer.

The officiant’s words passed by you soundlessly, your heart fluttering at the thought of being wed to the love of your life for the rest of eternity. Barely able to contain your excitement, you examined your fiance’s perfectly sculpted face to distract yourself from the burning anticipation. But as you did so, the whispers in your head grew louder, harsher and more incessant. Their words clouded your mind, and the glimmer of hope you held onto slipped right through your fingers. 

This was just a quirk marriage-

No. 

You didn’t want to believe it. You wanted this to be the love you had always imagined, the ones in the fairytales you had always read growing up. But as you scrutinised every detail of his face - his less-than-elated expression and the small smile that never fully reached his eyes - the truth slapped you in the face. Your heart began to sink as you realised that the love you had always wanted just wasn’t yours to own. 

This was just a quirk marriage. 

And Shoto didn’t really love you.

You tried for so long to pry your heart from his hold, doing anything to convince yourself to stop loving him. But no matter how hard you tried, your eyes would always drift back, for it knew where your heart belonged. That was why you agreed to this loveless marriage; your heart refused to be swayed and you just could not imagine spending the rest of your life with anyone else, even if he didn’t love you. In any case, you would much rather love and not be loved back than to be loved but not be able to feel anything from it. 

“Upon request, L/N will be sharing her vows first. L/N, please,” the officiant said, allowing you to take the spotlight. Before the wedding day, Shoto had asked if you were alright with saying your vows first. You thought it was rather uncharacteristic of him to suggest, especially considering how traditional he was, but you didn’t overthink it and agreed without a fuss. Clearing your throat, you looked adoringly into his eyes as you recited your love letter aloud for everyone to hear. 

“Todoroki Shoto, the only man my heart has ever belonged to,” your voice trembled. You paused to take a breath, calming yourself and focusing on the feeling of Shoto’s comforting touch. 

“I’ve always idolised the idea of love, dreaming about how it would feel to have my prince charming sweep me off my feet as he kissed me passionately. When I met you, I thought you were the furthest person from that ideal - you were cold, emotionless and unpassionate about everything except yourself because you wanted to be the best,” you said. You shook your head amusedly as the words left your mouth, your past thoughts seeming so ridiculous now, as you stood at the altar. “As I got to know you, I slowly started to understand. I began to see the determined boy who worked so hard to protect those he cared about. I treasured each rare smile and precious laugh that graced your stoic face. I caught a glimpse of the steady fire burning in this icy cavern and I couldn’t help but be drawn to its warmth. And slowly…” you trailed off, hoping your veil concealed your blush as much as you wanted it to.

“Slowly, you became the prince I had always dreamed about.”

The audience sighed dreamily as you publicly confessed your love for him. Even Shoto’s expression softens as he smiles at your sweet words.

“I know going from a platonic relationship to a romantic one is difficult, even impossible for some people,” you said, glancing at him knowingly. “But it was definitely not impossible for me,” you smiled, praying it didn’t look as sad as you felt.

“Shoto, I promise to love you unconditionally, with all my heart, my soul and my strength, for the rest of my life. I willingly give you every piece of me because I wholly trust you with everything that I have. I promise to be there whenever you need help and to never leave your side or let you face things alone. I vow to always give you the affection you deserve and I will never ever stop loving you, both in this life and the next.”

The tiniest bit of wetness coated your lashes as you finished your speech and you tried your best to blink them away before they ruined your makeup. 

“Thank you, L/N, that was absolutely beautiful,” the officiant smiled, genuinely moved by your words. “Todoroki, your vows, please,” he probed before stepping back to let your fiance speak. Shoto spared a quick side glance at his father who sat proudly at the front, his massive form blocking the poor audience’s view of this magical moment. His father was the only other person in the room besides the two of you that knew about the pretence of this marriage. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself to say the words he had so carefully crafted and memorised weeks before. 

“Children grow up by learning from their parents and their teachings,” he started, avoiding direct eye contact with his parents, who were sitting at polar ends of the front row. “Mine didn’t have the best relationship and every night, I would hide under the blankets in my room, wishing for better days I wasn’t sure would ever come.” 

You had heard this story a million times before, yet your heart still broke every single time he told it.

“I never knew what love was, but I knew what it wasn’t,” he continued, trying to bring some hope back into the audience’s hearts.

“Love wasn’t selfish; it was about giving to the other person and always putting them first before yourself. And the one who taught me all this wasn’t my parents… It was you,” he said as he gazed into your eyes.

“When we first met, I felt strangely inferior because I knew you were a better hero than me, but I didn’t understand why. However, on the second day of the internship we did together back in UA, I realised what it was,” he said, recounting the memory.

“It was love,” he smiled softly.

“I remember watching how much you cared for others, putting your life on the line to protect them even though you were injured,” he recalled. You could barely remember all this happening, but it touched your heart that he treasured the memory so much that he remembered every little detail. “Your selfless actions opened my eyes to what I was lacking,” he continued. “It wasn’t power that would make me the best hero; it was my heart for those I wanted to protect.” 

“If I were the number one hero, I would be defeating villains left and right, and have all the fame and money in the world. Yet after a long day of work, I’d still return home unhappy and purposeless. Without people I loved, who would I be fighting for? But if I didn’t have power, if I were quirkless even, it would be the people I loved that would give me the strength to face the world every day. Even without any powers, I would not be powerless at all. And…” his voice softened, barely a whisper. Emotions swirled in his eyes as his next few words ghosted his lips.

“... I would be happy.”

You never expected Shoto to be this vulnerable; he had rarely shared this much in private, let alone in public. Even so, you couldn’t help but hope he continued, the curiosity within you eagerly craving for more.

“The lesson you taught me is something I will cherish forever, and something I want to pass on to my children: the source of your strength does not come from your physical capabilities, but the purpose inside of you, the reason you fight, and the people your heart burns for.”

“That’s why I could never just marry for power. The pretence of a quirk marriage was just so I could get my father’s blessing,” he finally admitted. 

Discourse shook the crowd as people murmured amongst themselves. Even you were completely floored by Shoto’s confession. You looked worriedly at Endeavor who was fuming in his seat, outraged by the revelation of his son’s blatant lies, and understandably so. Declaring his true intentions and exposing his false claims to his father in front of everyone at his own wedding? Truly the ultimate act of rebellion. Endeavor was about to storm right up to the altar when your friends held him back in his seat, quieting the crowd in the process. 

Suddenly, you felt Shoto’s fingers under your chin, gently guiding your face back to his. Your thoughts were completely muddled, everything happening so fast and all at once. If he wasn’t marrying you for your quirk… then… 

Your breath hitched as realisation dawned upon you, his next few words being the only thing you could hear.

“I’m marrying you because I love you, Y/N.”

You didn’t know how you were still standing when all your brain was doing was malfunctioning and trying not to spontaneously combust. 

“You are my purpose. You are the reason I fight. And the fire within me, the one you said you were drawn to, is the same one that burns brightly for you.” 

Your heart was pounding so furiously against your ribcage, you thought it would explode. For so long you had convinced yourself that your feelings were not returned that you couldn’t possibly believe it was true. And yet, every fibre of your being wanted to believe it, hoping so dearly that it wasn’t just a dream. No amount of joy could ever compare to what you were feeling in that moment. 

“L/N Y/N, I promise to never hide my true emotions from you anymore. I will openly and wholeheartedly love you with every piece of me, and I will not hold back ever again, no matter what anyone says. I will always be by your side, protecting you and our love as we face the world together.”

Despite mustering all of your willpower, a tear still slipped from your eye, but was effortlessly wiped away by the man you would now call yours forever. All those years of wishing and hoping had amounted to something: your dreams had come true, and fantasy had become your reality. 

“That was truly touching. Though it came as a surprise, it was not unwelcome in the least,” the officiant smiled at Shoto, who returned it gratefully. “You may now present your rings to each other.”

Shoto gracefully extended his left palm. “May I have your hand, my princess?” he asked with the same gorgeous smile that had first captivated your heart. Still high on euphoria, you grinned and gingerly placed your left hand in his. The warmth of his hand contrasted beautifully against the cool metal as he slid on the glittering diamond ring. It was absolutely flawless, just like everything else about that day. Reluctantly, you pulled your eyes away from the stunning jewel to return the favour, slipping the ring onto his left hand. It fit perfectly on his finger as if it were made for him, just like you were. 

“Finally, the moment we’ve all been waiting for: I now pronounce you husband and wife!” the officiant announced proudly. “You may kiss the bride,” he said under his breath, a cheeky smirk evident on his face. You barely had time to register the hollers and whistles in the background as Shoto scooped you up in his strong, muscular arms and planted a passionate kiss on your lips. It was everything you had ever imagined it to be and more.

As he broke the kiss to admire your gorgeous face, his eyes sparkled, brimming with abundant love and adoration for his new wife.

“I’m sorry your prince charming took so long.”

You beamed at his sweet apology, forgiving him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and gently pushed his head down to close the space between you. You loved the taste of his lips against yours and could hardly believe you had unlimited access to it for the rest of your life.

“Finally, you’re no longer my princess, but my queen.”

You couldn’t do anything but smile, the butterflies in your stomach finally bursting free from the cage they had been contained in for so long. As you walked down the aisle for the second time, you couldn’t help but think of the stark contrast between both times you graced it: first, the bittersweet feeling of entering a one-sided marriage and now, the overwhelming joy you currently felt knowing it was no longer one-sided. 

The fresh breeze outside complemented the new air of romance between the newly wedded couple. Jumping into his arms once more, he spun you around as you both laughed in pure bliss. 

This wasn’t just a quirk marriage.

And Shoto really loved you.

Certainly, this was your happily ever after.

© written and published by animatedarchives 2020. please do not steal or repost. thank you.

[cygnetofthesea]

Welcome Home, Part 1: Élite Fanfiction

This fic was inspired and dedicated to @sweetpeony200​ and the request for a Guznadia reunion in NYC. Thank you for the inspiration!! It’s not quite what was asked, so apologies for that! (Hopefully @jasminejc4525​ writes her version 👀 ) The writing ran away from me and I couldn’t help but delve into Guzman’s psyche. I love doing character studies so this was a way for me to explore the complexities of Guzman’s mind and emotions. I hope to write a second part with more of their reunion, more of their present-day interaction the day Guzman arrives. Hope this part is still enjoyable until then! <3 Part of the Moments Series.

Guzman sat still with his eyes closed, the picture of calm if anyone looked over at him, but inside his was an anxious mess. He wasn't a nervous flyer by any means as he's gone on countless trips overseas throughout his short life, but this was no ordinary flight and he was no longer that ordinary boy.

This was the flight that was taking him toward the rest of his life.

The past few months without Nadia had been unbearable. He had known it was going to be difficult but he hadn't been prepared for the constant tightness that sat on his chest. The only thing that loosened it was Nadia, talking to her, face-timing her, texting her. Every time he saw her name or face on his screen, his chest swelled with elation instead of pain.

It was with Nadia's absence that Guzman was forced to confront the pain that haunted him from Marina and Polo's death. He felt that out-of-body experience all too often, every morning waking up to a sense of loss and confusion. His sister was dead, his best friend had murdered her, and now that best friend was murdered too. It was too much for him to comprehend, his mind twirling with the reality of it because it just didn't feel real, couldn't be real.

But it was.

Every time he looked in the mirror, he saw the ashen face that became almost unrecognizable to him. He didn't know how it was possible to be still standing in the wake of all this grief.

It was Nadia who had made him feel human, who had centered him, quelled the raging storm inside of him enough to feel alive. Her simple presence felt like a balm to his soul, brought peace to his mind and combated the pain, the incomprehensible thoughts as he tried to make sense of his life.

It was with her Guzman felt like he could deal with everything. She was the tether that brought him  to life and snapped him back to reality. Guzman had always been intrigued by her, since the first moment he set eyes on her simply because of the utter calm and resolve she emitted.

She was this young girl of sixteen and yet he carried herself with a sense of resolve and strength that was unlike anything he had seen in even some adults. Even Lu, who he believed to be tough, wasn't anything like Nadia, didn't nearly compare because it was Lu's privilege that gave her that strength. She was born into a world where everything was handed to her, her every desire was at her fingertips, effortless.

But Nadia wasn't like that. Not by a long shot. She worked hard for everything, every single step she took was a battle for her because of her race, her religion, her gender, her socioeconomic standing. She had everything working against her and yet she weathered through it, pushing her way not by aggression or iniquitous means but with a quiet fierceness, a calm gait.

He had to admit, his attraction to her was instant. That had been quite unexpected in of itself and it caught him completely off guard, but it was undeniable. He was pulled in by her demeanor, completely and utterly intrigued by her. He wanted to unwrap her, metaphorically and literally. He wanted to uncover the complexities of her, what gave her that strength, what made her happy, what made her laugh. And then as soon as that thought entered his mind, he knew he needed to see it, to hear it.

What did Nadia Shana's laughter sound like? What did her smiling eyes look like? Particularly, what did her soft eyes and smile look like when it was directed at him? And when by some miracle he managed to achieve that smile, he was addicted, pulled even deeper into her. He was lost and in love before he even knew it was happening. 

If he thought it was a miracle that he made her smile, he didn’t know what to call her falling in love with him, her actually wanting and agreeing to be with him. Perhaps it was some divine intervention. Perhaps God had decided that he finally earned her love, that he had suffered enough and deserved something beautiful and miraculous. That she was meant to be his savior all along. Nadia Shana saved so many simply by existing. 

And now as the eight hour flight was coming to a close, he couldn’t believe he was going to be reunited with his miracle at long last. He felt like at any moment he would open his eyes and wake up in bed with a heavy heart full of longing and tired, wet eyes. He opens his eyes now at the thought, wanting to get the disappointment over with, but instead of finding himself in bed, he’s met with the sign that reads Fasten Seat belt. 

It flashes red just as a ding overhead sounds. 

“Attention passengers, we are now approaching JFK airport. Please fasten your seat belt in preparation for the descent. Thank you for flying Air Eropa, we hope you had a pleasant trip.”

 Guzman takes a deep breath, his sweaty hands immediately fastening his seatbelt. His heart is racing in anticipation and impatience. His leg bounces erratically as he looks out the window as though somehow he’d be able to spot Nadia from such great heights. He’s momentarily distracted by the view but soon wonders if Nadia was already waiting for him or perhaps she was still on her way. 

He switches out the SIM card from his phone for the one Nadia had mailed him a week before so that he could call her as soon as he landed. He remembered the day he saw it in their mailbox. He knew to expect because Nadia had already given him the heads up, they had been making all the arrangements for weeks at that point, but he wasn’t any less excited when he saw it. 

He had torn through the package that had her neat handwriting on it and wanted to immediately switch out the SIM cards but she had teased him it wouldn’t work. 

“An American SIM isn’t going to do you much good in Madrid,” Nadia had giggled. 

Guzman shrugged with a tilt of his head. “I know but I’m excited. I feel like I’m one step closer to you and I can’t wait until you’re in my arms.”

She had looked at him softly, a wistful smile on her face. “I know what you mean. I can’t wait either.”

Before he knows it, the plane lands and Guzman is out of his seat and grabbing his carry-on in record speed. His strides are long and fast and he feels like he’s practically flying at the rate he’s going. He can’t see anything in his periphery, his eyes ahead and only looking around to make sure he’s going to the right place. 

He calls her as soon as he can, finally putting the new SIM card to use. The phone rings for a long and excruciating minute. His heart begins to sink when he hears the click on her beautiful voice on the other end. 

“Guzman,” she says breathlessly as though she had been running. “Are you here? I just saw your flight landed.”

His stomach does a somersault, a beaming smile across his face. “Yeah, I just picked up my suitcase. Are you here?”

Nadia lets out an astonished laugh. “You’re really here? Where?”

Guzman looks around. “I’m by the Emirates line, where it says terminal 7.”

“I’m looking for you.”

His heart gallops in his chest and he sounds winded when he asks, “You’re here?”

“When you say ‘here’ you better mean JFK airport because that’s where I am now.”

Guzman spins in place, one hand on his suitcase and the other pressing his phone tightly to his ear. He can hear his own heavy breath loud in his ear.

“Yes, this is definitely JFK airport,” he laughs, looking at the crowd. He even spots a film crew on the other side and remembers how Nadia said it was a popular site for tv shows and films. That was probably why it was especially crowded and hard to see around the bodies. 

Nadia lets out her own excited laugh. “I see you! You’re wearing your green jacket, the one with the orange lining inside, the one I gave you.”

The excitement mounts inside of him, he feels like his heart would either burst out of him or he would throw up right then. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m wearing your jacket. You can see me? Where are you?”

“I’m coming toward you. Turn around.”

He whirls around and there she was, his eyes immediately finding her. It was as though time had stopped and everything, everybody had ceased to exist and there was only her. Nadia, Nadia, Nadia….

In every scenario he imagined, he had run toward her. No matter how wild his imagination, In every single version of his reunion with her, there was running involved: he’d see her as soon as he got off the plane, waiting for him at the tarmac and he’d run to her, their eyes would meet across the the luggage pick-up and he’d jump across and run to her, they’d see each other across the airport and run to each other, colliding until they fell to the ground.

But here, in this moment now, he was stunned. He wasn’t prepared for the breadth of her beauty so close to him, just mere steps away. It was almost overwhelming, his senses anticipating her, his mind unable to comprehend that she was here, that in just moments he would be able to not only hear and see her but actually touch her, smell her, feel her, kiss her...even make love to her if she was so inclined. 

His arm falls to his side, limply holding his phone and his breath is caught in his throat as he stares at her in awe. She felt like a mirage but her sparkling eyes are drawing closer, closing the distance between them. She stops just inches away from him, a soft, achingly beautiful smile on her face that he feels his chest hurt at the sight. 

She’s the first one to speak. “Hey.”

And just like that, he’s snapped back to reality, the emotions falling over him in one fell sweep that he feels like he’d buckle under the weight but instead he pulls her into his arms, holding onto her to tether him. 

“Nadia.” His voice comes out in a choked sob and it’s only then he realizes that he’s crying.

He feels her warm body against him, soft and familiar and he finally feels what he’s been missing all along: home. 

He wraps his arms around her tightly, encasing her and holding her close as though trying to meld their bodies together. 

“Nadia.”

“Guzman.”

He buries his face in her neck, feeling the coolness of her silk hijab and the warmth from her skin simultaneously, the sensation so familiar and glorious he can’t help leaning heavily against her.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he croaks. 

“I’ve missed you too.”

He pulls back slightly and catches her glittering eyes. She lets out a wet chuckle and wipes his cheeks with both hands. “I’ve missed this face.”

She leans in and kisses his damp skin and his eyes flutter close as he kisses his eyes next, basking in her touch even as it makes him breathless. 

“Oh god, I love you.”

He lets out a ragged breath and pulls her lips to his before she can even respond, unable to hold off any longer. He needs to feel her, taste her and god, does she taste divine. He doesn’t mean to get carried away but the full weight of reality hits him: she’s really here in his arms, he’s not going to wake up because this isn’t a dream. 

He kisses her hard, cupping the back of her head as it leans back against the force of his lips. His tongue slides against her desperately again and again, needing to breathe her in, needing her taste to fill him up because he has been hungry for so long, starving for her touch and he can’t get enough. 

He wants to slide his lips against more skin, find the soft spot behind her ear that he knows makes her weak, before sliding down her throat, his tongue tracing the skin there. He wants to grip her until her clothes fall away and there’s nothing left but her skin against his.

He’s so desperate for her he feels he could weep and almost does when she pulls away with a gasp. He chases her lips with a soft whine at the back of his throat. “Nadia,” he pants, looking at her with hooded eyes. 

Her eyes are just as intense but with a shyness that he certainly didn’t have. He had no qualms showing all his love for her for the world to see. 

She slides her hand down to his chest to halt any further movement with a soft smile. “I love you too. Let’s go home,” she says.

And he wants to pull her in again, the word home echoing inside him, his body filling with elation. Home, he was home now, with her. He swallows thickly and nods against her. It takes a herculean effort to pull away from her but even then, he pulls away just enough to gather up his large suitcase that had fallen in his haste to embrace Nadia. He keeps an arm firmly around her, plastering her to him.

Nadia giggles at the gesture, shaking her head even as she stands on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. “Is this all you brought with you? I was expecting more.”

“No, I just brought the essentials and figured Mama can ship the rest as I need them. Plus, I can always get new things here.” 

“How was your flight?” She tries to reach for his carry-on. “Here, let me hold that for you, at least. You must be tired.”

“It’s ok, I’m not tired,” he says, looking at her with a soft smile. He was still reeling but he hooks the carry-on to the suitcase and pulls them forward, keeping his arm tight around her. “How did you get here?”

Her smile turns coy as she looks up at him. This time, she was the one dragging him forward eagerly. “It’s a surprise. Come on!”

She drags him along by the hand, practically skipping with excitement that he can’t help laughing with her. They make it out of the airport and immediately he’s bombarded with noise. He’s not unfamiliar with city life being from Madrid and visiting Barcelona often, but the noise here certainly felt different somehow. People chattering in so many different languages, cars honking, loved ones greeting each other with shouts and squeals.

He barely has time to register it all when Nadia expertly weaves him past the people and cars, crossing what looked like an island to get to a parking lot. He glances behind them at the long line of taxis waiting in a line, confused.

“Isn’t that where we’re supposed to wait for the taxi?” 

But Nadia says nothing, simply squeezing his hand and continuing her trek to the parking lot. 

“Is there a special taxi here?” he asks. 

“Oh I can’t wait to see how this city is going to test your patience,” she says in amusement. 

They finally stop in front of a grey jeep, clearly an older model but still in relatively good shape. Guzman looks at it, noting that it had been recently cleaned, a shiny gleam to the impeccable paint job. He peers inside and sees it’s neat and tidy in there with soft-looking seats and a backpack in the back seat. 

He looks back at Nadia. “What’s this? Is this our uber? Where’s the driver?”

He’s looking around as though the driver was going to stride up any second when Nadia lets go of his hand and heads toward the trunk. She pops open the trunk and looks at him expectantly.

“What, am I going to be your bellhop and your driver? Get your suitcase in here.”

Guzman looks at her stunned, not comprehending what she was implying. He looks between her smug face and the car with new eyes.  He points at the car and lets out an astonished laugh. 

“This is yours? How?” 

Nadia shrugs, dusting off invisible dust from her shoulders with a wink. “I bought it.”

His eyes bug. “But, you don’t even drive?”

She brandishes a card out to him, seemingly from out of nowhere. “I do now.”

He takes the card from her and looks at it in awe, seeing her name, birthday, and picture on it, confirming that Nadia, indeed, could drive. At least according to the state of New York and if his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

“Holy shit,” he laughs. He grabs her up into a hug, lifting her off the ground. “Congratulations, baby, I’m so proud of you! You never said anything when we spoke.”

She returns his happy kiss when he sets her back down. “I wanted to surprise you. Plus, I’d have been embarrassed if I ended up not passing so I didn’t want to get both of our hopes up.”

He shakes his head lovingly at her, placing more quick kisses to her mouth. “Nadia, I’d never be disappointed in you. I’d have been proud of you simply for trying.”

She kisses his nose. “I know you would and I love you all the more for it. I just wanted to surprise you and see the look on your face just now? Worth it.”

“Holy shit,” he says again, in awe. “I can’t believe you managed all this on top of everything else. I mean, I can, but I can’t comprehend how. And the car, I thought money was tight?”

Nadia shrugs. “It’s not the easiest, but I’ve been saving up well before Columbia even happened. I always wanted a car and I always thought college would be the best time to get one, in case I ended up somewhere near home and needed to commute.”

“Wow” He shakes his head again, this time with a dull ache in his chest. All these months Nadia had been painstakingly saving her hard-earned money not just for school but for freedom, she had been studying for her permit, took her test, passed, took driving lessons and then passed that too. All of this had been happening and he had no clue. 

He knew she wasn’t trying to keep him out of the loop intentionally and his heart warmed at the thought of her wanting to surprise him but it made him realize once again how different they were. Not for the first time he wondered what she even saw in him. Would she ever wake up and realize that she could do better than him? Selfishly he prayed that she didn’t.

“You’re amazing,” he says. “So my suitcase can fit in here?”

She scoffs, “Please, it can fit at least three of the same size,” she calculates. She jumps in place and gestures to the open trunk. “Come on, stick it in there! Or do you want to check out more of this parking lot?”

Guzman pretends to look around. “Is a carnival going to pop up somewhere? I’ve heard they do that here.”

Nadia rolls her eyes and shoves him playfully. He catches her hand in his keeping her from pulling away completely. “Someone’s eager to get me home.”

“And someone’s not?” she challenges, sending him a coy look. 

Immediately Guzman throws his suitcase inside haphazardly and slams the trunk shut. “What are we waiting for? I just had a long flight.” 

He shuffles Nadia urgently to the driver's side, her laughter filing his ears pleasantly. He smooches kisses to her cheek as he helps her in before running around to the passenger side. 

The drive is long and somehow short all at the same time. Perhaps Guzman hadn’t yet become jaded from the New York City traffic and he was too amused with Nadia’s bouts of road rage to notice how long they sat on the road. 

“Did you see that idiot? You’re supposed to signal, how do you pass the driver’s test when you don’t even signal?” She mutters under her breath but he hears her anyway. 

He stares at her in bliss for a moment, watching her practiced movements. He’s never seen her drive before. He remembers the one failed attempt at teaching her on one of their dates but she had gotten too nervous with all the functions in his car.

“Why are there so many buttons, where do I put the key?” she had asked nervously, looking around. 

“This car doesn’t need a key. See here? You put your foot on the gas and then push the button?”

She had whipped around to look at him with wide eyes. “What?!” 

“Surely this isn’t the first time you heard of an automatic car?” he asked in amusement.

“Well no but I guess we haven’t been in your car a whole lot for me to notice. I don’t know about this Guzman.” 

“You’re going to be fine,” he soothed. “Press your foot on the gas lightly and then push the button.”

She does so hesitantly and oh so carefully that it’s a shock to both of them when the car roars to life. “No! No, I don’t want to do this anymore, Guzman. Turn it off, make it stop!”

He tried to muffle his laughter as he put a soothing hand to the back of her neck and pushed the engine button so it quieted down once more. 

“That couldn’t have been so scary,” he told her, rubbing his thumb against her skin all the while. He couldn’t help teasing her because she looked so cute but he didn’t want to freak her out either. 

“Um it was and I don’t want to do it again.” She moves to get out of the car before freezing in place as though it was going to blow up with the slightest movement. “It’s off, right?”

“Yes, it’s off.”

He had barely gotten the rest of the words out before she bolted out. 

That had been the first and last attempt at teaching Nadia how to drive, but looking at her now, he wouldn’t have believed she had been petrified at the thought of it just six months ago.

He wants to continue staring at Nadia but she pushes his face to look out the windshield. “You’ll have plenty of time to look at me until you get sick of my face, check out the sights.”

He obediently keeps his face forward but glances at her from the corner of his eyes. “I’ll never get sick of your face.”

But he does finally comply and takes in his surroundings, after all, this was going to be his new home. He has to admit, the pictures don't do New York City justice. He remembers seeing pictures and even videos of the highly populated city, cars stuck in traffic, people walking carelessly across the street, but nothing is quite like being in the midst of it. He is now among those people in the photos and it felt so surreal. 

It was hard to fathom that just a year ago, he had no idea what his future would look like. Had anyone asked him then, he’d have shrugged carelessly and likely joked about sitting on a beach or even sailing in the Balearic Sea or something. But never taking in the sun from New York City and certainly not with the love of his life. He knows he’s supposed to look around and be the wide-eyed tourist, and he will be, but at the moment, all he wants to do is look at the love of his life. 

He tries to be subtle about it, leaning his head back and letting it lol in her direction. He does catch sights of the bridge and the gorgeous water gleaming under the bright sunlight, but he’s more entranced by how the sun makes her look ethereal, almost unreal. Guzman was a man of God so there were moments where he wondered if Nadia was an angel meant to guide him through light. 

But then he’d really look at her, look past the beauty that rendered him speechless, and look at the person she was. She was more than a miracle, she was a person with her own hopes and dreams and he’d do everything in his power to ensure she achieves them. 

Nadia somehow weaves through the bustling roads, carefully and patiently, now that they had left what was the main freeway. They seemed to have reached an area that she was more familiar with and as he paid attention once more to the world outside, he realized it’s vaguely familiar to him too. Nadia had taken pictures on some of these roads and sent them to him, even taking quick little videos to show him the madness that would take place on the streets. They must be getting closer to her apartment—their apartment. 

He looks out the window, up at the tall building before it’s obscured from view as Nadia pulls into an underground parking space. He feels a little breathless suddenly, reality hitting him once more. This new, strange, and unfamiliar place would be his home now for the foreseeable future. All the things that he knew and was familiar with, the grocery stores, the arcades, the beaches, everything he once knew was gone. Well, not gone exactly, but would become a distant memory as he made new ones in a new place. 

There’s a small ache in his chest, a sense of homesickness but more for the innocence of youth. But as he thinks about his future with Nadia, the ache eases and he’s filled with hope and endless possibilities. He once believed he could do anything he wanted but it was more due to an ignorant cockiness he had, born from privilege. Now, though, he knew that the possibilities only existed because of Nadia. Because she was by his side, Guzman felt like he was capable and worthy enough to deserve a beautiful future.

He looks over to her with a smile, “Is this it? Is this the apartment?”

“Our apartment,” she corrects and he feels like his chest would burst. “But yes, we’re here. Welcome home, Guzman.”

[genesisrose74]

Christmas With the Karasuno Boys (HC’s)!!

Part 2: Kageyama, Hinata, Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, Kinoshita, & Narita

Part 1 (Daichi, Suga, Asahi, Nishinoya, Tanaka, & Ennoshita) here!

A/n: Tumblr said my word count was too much so I’m splitting this bad boi up into two parts :p Enjoy!!

*****

Kageyama

This boy has a secret soft side for Christmas istg

He HATES showing it to other people on his team and shit

But holy bejeezus he is mesmerized by the holiday in every way possible

Lights, sweets, snow, just like,,, the general magic of December is the most awe-inspiring thing to him

Since he is still a sporty and pretty active mofo, you decided to fuel that on your holiday-themed date as Kags had noted that he’d never gone sledding before

Your jaw was on the FLOOR when he first told you because he would 10000% enjoy the hell out of it

And so you dragged him out to this popular sledding hill that you frequented as a child and taught him what to do

Not gonna lie, he was kind of nervous

“Well you’re experienced at it. I don’t wanna mess up”

🥺🥺🥺 bubby

“You won’t, Tobio! I can already tell you’re gonna be a sledding pro”

Feels a little better after that, but he asks you to help him out for his first run down the hill

He sits behind you with his arms secured snugly around your waist and his head nestled on top of your shoulder

Which would probably seem really funny to passerby because this boy is tol and intimidating in most other situations

As soon as the sled started down, Kags tightened his grip and made this cute little yelp of surprise

But you were laughing insanely hard at the combination of going really fast downhill whilst also having your boyfriend cling to you for dear life

And then when the sled stopped safely at the bottom he started to chuckle

FULL ON, GENUINE SOUND OF ENJOYMENT

That shit is rare

Y’all stayed at that hill for half the day because it was so fun

You got him a new, very high quality athletic roller for Christmas because his old one was just not cutting it anymore

And you also gave him this really cute bracelet with a volleyball, his jersey number, and a little strawberry milk set of charms attached to it

It matched this really pretty and subtle chain he’d bought for your birthday

His blueberry eyes got all wide with affection dfjdskfjsdk—

Got super blushy and couldn’t get a handle on his speech for a fat minute

He thinks you’re the coolest person ever no I do not take criticism

Geez you’re both adorable together, ideal “stoic boy becomes warmer during the holidays around his love” movie plot and I love it

Hinata

He is all in on Christmas. Not a chance this boy doesn’t get excited as hell

Will openly go into holiday mode as soon as November is over

Was secretly already listening to his Christmas playlist before then

He is one of the sweetest gift givers, that is FACTUAL

If you want something really badly, he will take notice and get it as your present immediately

He’ll also gift you an extra thing that’s handmade 🥺

Like some pastries that his mom helped him make, or a specially made basket of soaps with your favorite scents in it

It’s absolutely adorable and you cherish those ones especially

Is happy if you simply get him something; mans doesn’t care what it is

New practice volleyball? A brand new sweatshirt? Elated either way

You had seen an advertisement for a friendly match between Japan and Poland’s men’s volleyball teams, so you waited online on the ticket sales website until the minute it opened

Spoiler alert: you got some banger seats 😌✨

Shoyo may or may not have tackled you when he read the ticket details, letting out his excited giggle (you know the one)

“I can’t believe you got these, angel! You’re coming with me, right? You’ve gotta! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Gives you sweet little kisses between each individual ‘thank you’

“Of course I’ll go with you, Sho! I’m really glad you like it!”

He will give you the brightest smile of all time — that shit makes Christmas lights pale in comparison

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

RIGHT BACK AT YOU BBY

Hold his hands to warm up together when temperatures drop pls :)))

It’s become a weekly December tradition to watch a Christmas movie with Natsu at the Hinata household

She’ll sit in your lap while the three of you are cuddled under a blanket together, and Shoyo will lace his fingers with yours all discreetly

In conclusion, I am a sucker for holiday Hinata 🥺🥺🥺

Tsukishima

His room is decorated to the very minimum simply because his mom and brother had insisted on him being festive

You know those holiday instrumentals that are really calming and jazzy and stuff? Yeah, that’s the only Christmas music he will tolerate in his house

While he’s still got his usual icy demeanor, this blond bitch does get slightly less snippy with the Karasuno boys

Is always on the nose with getting you the exact thing you wanted for a present

Like,,, TO THE SMALLEST DETAIL

You don’t even have to bring that shit up beforehand, he just KNOWS

“Tsukki, how did you—?”

“It’s pretty obvious, with the way that one ad kept showing up on your phone.”

b r u h

How does he pay such good attention without even letting on??

As for his own present, you’ll usually get him two: one gag gift and one more serious gift

His dino plush collection size is partly due to the former’s contributions this time of year

Yes the dinos have names

You exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve with all the team (you made him go) and he saved your more serious one for last

It was a scarf that you’d gotten custom made, which had a Spotify code knitted into the fabric

Scanning the code opened the app to a playlist you’d created especially for him

He got pretty quiet when figuring it out and scrolling through the playlist

Would let out a certified Tsukki Nose Exhale™ when he came across certain songs

The more subdued reaction was expected because it’s Tsukishima

His little chuckles and warmer eyes were enough of a giveaway to tell you he very much enjoyed your gift

But on the walk home, he took the scarf and wrapped it around you both, and then brought his arm around your waist

“Thank you.”

You deadass almost combusted because it was so unexpected??

“You’re welcome. Merry Christmas, Kei”

Way to respond calm and collected 😌👍

But on the inside your body was in freak out mode

He wears the scarf all the time jdfsklfjdsk

Yamaguchi

Take the most tooth rotting fluff you could imagine

And then double that and put a fucking cherry on top

That’s the equivalent of what Christmas is like with Yama Yama

Y’all are like kids in a candy store — literally

For your Christmas dates it’s all about sweets and shared giggles, so frequent trips to the candy and baking isles of the grocery store is a must

Making gingerbread houses, peppermint tasting (mostly trying those different and wild ass candy cane flavors), you name it and it’s there

Stomach aches? I don’t know her

Yeah you do but they go away with enough butterfly kisses 🥰

Tadashi is exceptionally good at decorating gingerbread houses for whatever reason

He put a poll on his instagram between yours and his final products and he won by a landslide

It’s not like yours was necessarily bad, more like he’s just an icing master

You also might have eaten too many gumdrops which left your rooftop lacking in ✨spice✨

But it’s okay because Tadashi donated some of his leftovers to you

He’s such a sweetheart uwu

Please for the love of everything get him something heartfelt as his present

You know those long distance bracelets for couples?

Basically if your s/o taps the icon on the bracelet it’ll send a little vibration to the other person’s as a notice that you’re thinking about them

This boy seeks constant reassurance, and you love to give him his deserved love and validation, so it was the perfect present

It takes a second for him to figure out what it is, but after reading the directions and testing it out, the most adorable smile erupted on his face

And then since you already had yours on, he tapped the little icon again with a giggle

“Hey there”

It becomes common habit to tap it at least once every couple hours

GOD HE IS SO CUTE

He is just so soft this time of year, give him all the love and he will return it tenfold ☺️

Kinoshita

This boy is absolutely an awkward cutie and an avid romantic

Give him the cliches and he will eat em up, no doubt

It naturally gets more apparent around the holidays

He’ll take you on pretty winter walks, give you lots of little gifts (while blushing a hell of a lot), and is just a professional at stumbling upon some mistletoe

Wow wonder how it got there, Hisashi

He’s quite a bit more confident when simply alone with you than in a crowded space

And that definitely shows when he takes you out on a secluded sleigh ride around town

Yeah you heard me

A fuckin’ sleigh ride

Horses and blankets and everything

Don’t even ask how he managed to pull it off, because he loves watching the cogs turn in your head and simply will not give you a straight answer

Of course there’s the nice driver guy who’s there, but in the back alone Kinoshita’s confidence goes 📈📈

Lots of flirting, tons of skimmed touches and shared giggles throughout the ride

I legitimately simp really hard for him

Anyways it was a gorgeous ride through town and super fun

On Christmas Eve you both exchange gifts together and tbh whatever you got him will leave him happy and flustered regardless

But when he opens the wrapping paper to find an entire set of vintage VHS tapes, he’s stunned

He owns a VHS (actually canon!) and honestly loves it to death, and the fact that you’d get him tapes of pretty high quality for his collection meant a lot

Gosh he’s so underrated but a definite sweetheart, give him all the holiday love

Narita

Another underrated bby 🥺

He’s so chill and is pretty open to anything during the holidays, so long as he gets to spend ample time with you, his friends, and his family

Definitely more of an indoor person despite being accepting of most situations

Hence why you thought a cute little indoor winter picnic would be right up his alley

Which it absolutely was 😌✨ nice work

You’d made plans while in secret communications with his family members about the whole thing

He’d been pretty stressed lately with trying to handle his schoolwork, while also helping out others with theirs

Despite being a wonderful tutor, it was clearly becoming a bit overwhelming as he tried to grapple with so much at once

So when he came home one day to find a pristine house with you settled on a blanket in his living room, he was quite surprised

There’s a cheese plate, soda cans in a cute ice box, sandwiches, snacks, a presparked fireplace — you and his family went all out

Really adorable I cannot lie

“I thought you said you were going gift shopping today?”

“I might have maybe lied :P”

So he gives the sweetest little smile and sits across from you

Y’all stay there and talk for hours

After finally getting through everything previously laid out on the blanket spread, you slid him a little rectangular box that he looked at curiously

“Already? I haven’t wrapped yours yet!”

“Mine can wait a bit! Just open yours”

And so he does, and you watch with a face-splitting grin as he looks down in awe

You got tickets to see his favorite rock band in concert while they were on tour

He sprung onto you and pulled you into the tightest hug ever

“Holy shit you’re the best I love you so much how do you get even more loveable every day—!?!l”

It’s a jumble of words but you’re able to put it together and it makes you giggle

He deadass sprints upstairs to go get your gift and make sure that you feel as equally appreciated as he does

In simple words: wholesome holiday sweetness 🥰