#maybe some other time when i gather more Thoughts

[azrielmasterlist]

Petals & Shadows

Storyline:- Where after his near kiss with elain, he's left confused and lonely, taking a new mission from rhysand he left for some lone time to wander around when he met Her. A Garden Fairy. So beautiful and god he was hooked the moment his eyes fell on her.

Azriel x Garden Fairy

Words:- 2.3k

Warning:- Fluff

Azriel’s mind was a mess, swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to linger on. The near kiss with Elain haunted him, her delicate scent still clinging to his senses. He had thought for a fleeting moment that maybe—just maybe—he could be happy. But happiness was an illusion, wasn’t it? One he had never been destined to grasp.

Rhysand had given him a mission shortly after, sensing Azriel’s need to get away. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t prod. He only gave him space, which Azriel desperately needed. So he left Velaris behind, flying over endless forests and valleys, hoping the open sky and cold wind would clear his mind.

Yet nothing seemed to help.

He touched down in a meadow, his shadows curling around him protectively. The place was vibrant, teeming with wildflowers in every colour imaginable, and the air smelled fresh, earthy, and rich. It should’ve calmed him, but even here, he felt restless, a storm churning beneath his calm exterior.

That’s when he heard her laugh.

Azriel’s head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was light, musical, and utterly captivating. His shadows swirled toward it, eager to explore, but he didn’t need them to tell him where she was. He could see her.

She was standing in a small patch of greenery, her hands on her hips as she glared at a puddle of mud. Her friends, other garden fairies judging by their leafy attire and small, translucent wings, were giggling beside her.

“Yeah, no, I don’t like mud,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably.

One of her friends tilted her head, clearly amused. “But you’re a garden fairy,” she pointed out as if that explained everything.

The fairy rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. “Ironic, isn’t it? Such a drama queen,” she added with a huff, earning more laughter from her friends.

Azriel found himself smiling before he could stop himself. There was something about her that drew him in, something light and warm that made the cold shadows within him retreat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way.

Her friends egged her on-again, gesturing toward the other side of the puddle. “Just jump.”

The garden fairy groaned, stomping her foot. “Okay, alright. I’m coming,” she said with exaggerated frustration before leaping over the mud in an awkward yet endearing manner.

Azriel’s shadows stirred around him, curious in this strange, captivating creature. He found himself stepping closer, careful to keep his footsteps silent, not wanting to disturb the moment.

But she noticed him anyway.

Her head turned toward him, and their eyes met. Azriel froze.

She was breathtaking.

Her skin seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her hair was a cascade of soft curls that shimmered like spun gold. But it was her eyes that held him captive—bright, sparkling, and filled with a mischievous warmth that made something stir in his chest.

“Oh, hello,” she said, tilting her head in curiosity. Her friends glanced at him, wary, but the garden fairy herself didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Instead, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to gather his composure. “No. I was… just passing through.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Well, you don’t look like the passing-through type.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “You look more like the brooding-in-the-shadows type. Very mysterious.”

Azriel blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her boldness. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused.

“I’m Azriel,” he said, deciding to ignore her teasing tone. “And you are?”

“Faye,” she answered with a grin. “Guardian of this little garden paradise.”

“Guardian?” he repeated, arching a brow.

“Well, technically a garden fairy, but guardian sounds cooler, don’t you think?”

Azriel found himself chuckling softly, something he rarely did. “Cooler, yes. Accurate? I’m not so sure.”

Faye placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “You wound me, stranger.” But there was no malice in her words, only humour. “So, Azriel, what brings you here? Besides brooding, of course.”

“I’m on a mission,” he said simply, though even he wasn’t sure what his mission was anymore. He had come here to find peace, but instead, he had found her—and she was anything but peaceful.

Faye studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp despite the lightness of her demeanor. “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well help. This garden doesn’t take care of itself, you know.”

Azriel raised a brow. “Help? With what?”

She gestured to the greenery around them. “Watering, planting, weeding… you know, garden stuff.”

He looked down at his dark leathers, clearly not designed for gardening, and then back at her. “I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”

Faye laughed, a sound that made his shadows flicker in response. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you touch any mud. I know how awful it can be,” she said with a wink.

Azriel couldn’t help but smile again. This fairy was unlike anyone he had ever met. Bold, bright, and full of life—a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to him. And yet, he found himself drawn to her as if she was a light he hadn’t realized he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few days, Azriel stayed in the garden, helping Faye with her tasks despite his initial reluctance. They fell into an easy rhythm—she would chatter endlessly about the plants and flowers, and he would listen quietly, occasionally offering a dry comment that made her laugh.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and experiences. Azriel found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and Faye… Faye was simply herself, vibrant and unfiltered.

There were moments of quiet too, where they would sit together, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of gold and crimson. In those moments, Azriel felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—peace.

And with that peace came something else.

Something deeper.

Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to name.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One afternoon, Azriel found Faye sitting on a rock, her hands covered in dirt as she tended to a patch of flowers. She looked up when she saw him, a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

“Don’t say it,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“Say what?” he asked innocently.

“Something about how ironic it is that a garden fairy doesn’t like mud.”

Azriel smirked. “I would never.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not believing a word he said. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his tone light.

Faye laughed, the sound like a balm to his soul. “Touché.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days passed in a blur of sunlight and laughter, and with every moment Azriel spent with Faye, he found himself growing more attached to her—this bold, vibrant garden fairy who somehow made his shadows feel less heavy.

For as long as he could remember, Azriel’s life had been one of duty, shadows, and unspoken desires. He had never allowed himself to entertain the idea of a different life—a lighter one, full of joy and warmth. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a blooming garden, watching Faye tease her friends and stomp around with exaggerated drama when forced to touch mud as if it were the bane of her existence.

He knew he should have left by now. His mission was complete—he had investigated the disturbances in the nearby forest, reported back to Rhysand, and confirmed there was no imminent threat. There was no reason for him to stay. And yet…

He stayed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel leaned against the trunk of a towering oak tree, arms crossed over his chest as he observed Faye from a distance. She was busy arranging a cluster of flowers into neat rows, her delicate fingers brushing over the petals with surprising care despite her earlier disdain for all things muddy.

“You’re staring again,” came a light voice from beside him. Azriel glanced to his left to see one of Faye’s friends—a fellow garden fairy with sharp green eyes and a knowing smirk.

“I wasn’t staring,” Azriel replied smoothly, though his shadows betrayed him, swirling restlessly around his shoulders as if they were unsettled by the accusation.

“Sure, you weren’t,” the fairy said, her tone teasing. “You know, if you like her, you could just tell her.”

Azriel shot her a warning look. “It’s not that simple.”

The fairy raised a brow. “Why not? You’re here, she’s here. You enjoy each other’s company.” She paused, her expression softening. “Faye may seem like she’s always full of light and laughter, but she doesn’t let people in easily. If she’s let you stay this long, it means something.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted back to Faye, who was now attempting to balance a watering can on her head, much to the amusement of the other fairies. Her laughter rang out across the meadow, clear and pure, and something in Azriel’s chest tightened.

Maybe the fairy was right. Maybe it did mean something.

But how could someone like him—who carried so much darkness—ever hope to deserve someone like Faye?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the garden was bathed in a warm golden glow, Faye found Azriel sitting alone on a flat rock by the stream. His shadows danced lazily around him, blending into the growing dusk. He looked so out of place in the peaceful garden, a figure of darkness surrounded by light. And yet, to Faye, he fit perfectly.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice soft.

Azriel glanced up, surprised. “Of course.”

She plopped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the gentle burble of the stream.

“You know,” Faye began, her voice thoughtful, “I’ve been wondering something.”

Azriel tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

“Why did you stay?” she asked, turning to face him fully. “You finished your mission days ago. Most people would have left by now.”

Azriel hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could he explain that he stayed because of her? Something about her had captivated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

“I needed time to think,” he said at last, which wasn’t a lie—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Faye didn’t press him, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, gone so quickly he almost missed it. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you stayed,” she said with a smile. “You’re not half bad to have around.”

Azriel’s lips twitched upward. “High praise coming from someone who called me brooding and mysterious.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Faye said with a playful shrug. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “You know, you don’t always have to be so serious.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I’m not serious all the time.”

“Oh?” Faye challenged a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Before Azriel could respond, Faye reached over and plucked a small flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingers. “Here. Hold this.”

Azriel took the flower, his large scarred hand dwarfing the delicate bloom. He stared at it, unsure what to do.

“Now,” Faye said, leaning closer, “smile.”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Smile. Come on, I know you can do it.”

Azriel shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the challenge,” Faye shot back, crossing her arms.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel allowed himself a small smile—just enough to satisfy her demand.

“There it is!” Faye declared triumphantly. “See? Not so serious after all.”

Azriel’s smile widened just a fraction. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re trying to be grumpy,” Faye teased, poking him lightly in the side.

Azriel chuckled softly, a sound that surprised even himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed—truly laughed. But with Faye, it felt natural, like breathing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As night fell and the stars began to twinkle above, Azriel found himself dreading the moment when he would have to leave. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to say goodbye to Faye and the light she had brought into his life.

But he knew he couldn’t stay forever. His duties in Velaris awaited him, and he had never been one to shirk responsibility.

Still, as he looked at Faye, who was now lying on the grass, pointing out constellations and spinning fanciful tales about them, he felt a longing he couldn’t ignore.

“I have to leave soon,” he said quietly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

Faye stilled, her hand pausing mid-gesture. Slowly, she sat up, her expression carefully neutral. “I figured as much.”

Azriel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Faye said simply.

He turned back to her, surprised. “It’s not that simple.”

Faye sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. I just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I like having you here, Azriel. You make this place feel… different. Better.”

Her confession took him by surprise, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. But then, before he could overthink it, he reached out and took her hand in his.

“I feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice low. “You make me feel different. Better.”

Faye’s eyes widened slightly, but then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made Azriel’s heartache in the best way.

“Then stay a little longer,” she whispered. “Just a little longer.”

Azriel tightened his grip on her hand, a silent promise. “As long as you’ll have me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog @wintersquirrel

[lonesilverw0lf]

Just some random bits and bobs that I thought of

Bully while he’s going through his growth arc is in a form of suffering. Maybe he starts off with nobody liking him, and for good reason, but as he saves his classmates more often and just starts being a good person most others of the Party start teasing him and treating him like normal. Think on how Bakugo from MHA(who for some reason is the face and rough personality that I’ve been going with for some reason despite Bakugo not having a shit upbringing) has that kinda asshole personality and yet the members of his squad like to pick on him in a sense. He doesn’t really know how to deal since he’s never really gotten positive feedback ever. Still quite a bit of a rebel heart, especially when the Nobility that tried to axe MC is involved.

Prep is weirdly excited to be roughing it, putting their preparatory, improv, and survival skills to work in a foreign environment. The extra hostility is just a bonus challenge. Also now has a low key rivalry with Mama in supporting and supplying the Party. Is quietly working with a few others in possibly making guns.

Chess Student has a Pokémon esque summoning type ability that they use in combat as a chess type game. Generic, I know, but it fits perfectly. Can’t think of too much else right now.

Teen Mom is limited in her mobility and nobody is going to risk the unborn, so she learns various forms of divination to help. Also learns a handful of other domestic skills to keep herself busy and aid the Party, like sewing, studying the Lore, and the like. Gods help you if you get between her and her chocolate.

CC and Mama both knew each other’s big secret, CC being stupidly rich who helps everyone and Mama’s dark side that she will never show to her friends, before being summoned to Fantasy Land. They both respect the other for it and have a don’t ask don’t tell policy. It’s only after being Summoned that the Party start having suspicions with the duo but can never come up with anything concrete. Suspicions, the occasional odd statement, and circumstantial evidence is all they can gather. Otherwise they just get weird looks from how scarily capable they are at their jobs.

Influencer discovers her gift by accident sorta early on. They visit some port where everyone is gossiping about MC and how he was ‘rightly discarded’ due to the Court’s spies spreading the rumors they want. Influencer simply tries to drum up some support for MC and set the record straight, only to almost have a full on riot on her hands. It’s the first time CC takes a direct hand in stopping a problem before it spirals out of control, not that anyone notices due to Influencers discovery. Since then she is always with a buddy to keep an eye on things. She comically cannot hold her liquor, which is another reason she needs a buddy at all times since her first time drinking also accidentally started another almost cult. This time around booze as their ‘patron’. Several deities salivate at the idea of making her one of their priestesses and almost started a divine war over her. She is famous in all the ways that she doesn’t want. Thank god that her gift doesn’t affect the Party. At least not yet…

Prez, walking through a small fortress up to a nervous Influencer: Are you ok?

Influencer, smile too wide and voice to chipper: Yeppers! Totally fine! A little sore from the ropes, but nothing a little rest can’t fix! Hahahaha! How are you?

Prez: Fine, as you can tell. And relieved you’re alright.

Influencer: That’s just fantastic! Totally zippe dee do da dally!

Prez: Influencer, did you start up another Cult?

Influencer, sweating buckets: Yesnt?

Prez: Yesnt? As a question?

Influencer, poking her fingers together: Ah well they were a Cult to begin with, ya know they kidnapped me for a sacrifice in the first place. Yeah?

Prez: But?

Influencer, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes: I may have… redirected their belief system ever so slightly??

CC laughing, Prez nodding begrudgingly: Yesnt.

Football guy, looking around at the cultists near frantically overhauling the place: ‘Redirected’? ‘Slightly’?!

Mama: I’ll go around this place and see how I can reorganize them to suit our goals. *teasingly* Under Influencers good name of course~.

Tomboy: Well, in the end it’s good that you’re alright-?! *gets glomped by Influencer*

Influencer, comically crying: How do you do it Tomboy?! How do you let yourself get kidnapped all the time?! Am I just a big chicken?!

Tomboy, awkwardly patting her back: Well normally it’s mostly planned, not random like you, and I’m usually caught by regular bandits wanting money and not next in line to be sacrificed either. Wait a minute you were gagged when they took you, who took that off?

Goth, casually perusing the Cults cursed artifacts: I’ll give you two guesses, but you’re only going to need one.

Everyone there, sighing: MC.

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

[accio-victuuri]

BOJUNYIXIAO’s Weibo Night 2024/2025 Part I 🔴🟡🟢

here we are again with the boys’ yearly same-event appearance. a tradition of sorts at this point that cpfs look forward to. It’s fun to clown and speculate on what is happening behind the scenes cause they most likely will not be in the same frame. if you wanna look back on last year’s events then go here.

i know i said this recap will be done by the end of the night but i thought about how it would be too long to read. also, this is a breather why we wait for them be onstage cause thus ceremony is too long. lol. the next post by end of day will focus more on candies that happened during the show.

I. Getting tickets and Rumors of them going

as with other wb nights, tickets can be achieved through fan voting. compared to last year that was competitive for cpfs, this one was more relaxed. or maybe fans weren’t that interested in attending. cause there was so little news if the boys will even attend the event initially. i wanna say it was a pretty good mix of fandoms on the list. for cpfs, it was the fansites dominating as usual.

by 1/8 in the morning, we saw that both of them have won awards in their respective works: Xiao Zhan for his song "wo me " as Favorite Music of the Year" & Wang Yibo for starring in the movie "formed police unit" for "Weibo's Favorite Movie of the Year"; his personal documentary "Exploring New Unknown" winning "Weibo's Favorite Variety Show of the Year". these are automatically posted by weibo via the respective accounts involved and people can see it in the voting site for the event. then in the afternoon, melons started coming out that they will be going. and this is further solidified by wb night’s teaser post that seem to allude to gg & wyb. so before announcing, wb night shares cards with statements on it. each card representing a celebrity. and here comes the hilarious part, their cards were posted side by side on 20:32 (p1). for yibo it’s a short one, i am here. which alludes to his new song. and for gg it’s smooth sailing and good health which is his wish for the new year.

then at 1/9, very early into it, the re-issued the card sets and this time the two were separated. your guess is as good as mine on why this was done. lol.

weibo night never shied away from the whole xz and wyb cp before when it was considered “acceptable”. here is an example of an actual post back in 2020 where they even used the GGDD nickname for them. at the time, it was okay cause they were the hottest “pair” with cql as a breakthrough drama. personally, i think weibo night was being very sneaky initially posting it that way. trying to drum up an audience but then so/os had to go ahead and be salty about it so it had to be split. i’m not gonna stop saying it, a reason why very little interaction is done between them — it’s partly to not upset their “fans”. it is what it is. solo fandoms in c-ent is serious business & something very understandable in an industry perspective.

but again, that’s just me and maybe cpfs reading too much into it. feel free to have your own interpretation.

II. The Official Announcement

On 1/9 at 11:30 yibo posted that he is attending the event. yibo-official also shared some reminders to not gather and disrupt public order when they go. A coincidence cause at the same time XZ posted about his Portrait magazine. which makes sense and may not be even about cpn but it’s still nice to get notifications from them on weibo 😂😂😂

Then at 15:54, XZ finally posted. XZS also came in and shared it with the reminder.

and so it was confirmed that they are both attending the ceremony. this day was also kinda busy for them cause wyb’s loewe campaign was also released and gg had his portrait magazine interview also out.

it’s safe to say that cpfs were pretty busy ^^

after that, later in the evening, their video messages were also published by weibo night. here is a combined video of that:

1/10, as expected, there was a lot of chatter on who will be attending — particularly the CPs who will be there. it is relevant in the sense that there are a couple of hot drama CPs that will be attending. but with all the polls from various blogs, the top vote is always BJYX. lol. so strong!

they are not a “CP” in that sense tho. they are real!

III. Pre Show

WYB started off pretty early by posting a teaser of his look for the night. some are saying it reminds them of what he wore for 11.11 night when XZ was also there.

There was also a video showing the seating arrangement. It appears that they only have 4 people separating them. tho it’s not a guarantee of anything but this is close! some don’t like the number assigned for yibo tho cause it’s row 2 seat 27. 227. ugh.

It doesn’t stop there tho!!!!!

there is a photothat the number was folded up so it won’t be visible. it was removed by staff (video). cpfs are crying over this cause it may have been requested to be removed by wyb due to the negative connotation. he also changed positions with LX. he really went that far! people are saying that it’s easy to change seats, so why did the number have to be torn apart? there is no need to do that. also, changing seats with LX means WYB will be away from the center so it does not benefit him. idk who gave that number to WYB, but he definitely won’t be used to bully XZ or start some bad rumor. he is truly a boss! he protects xz in ways like this. i cannot 😭😭😭😭😭

i love this comment about it: wyb is not only sitting in that position, he wants that number to disappear.

and oh, Tod’s is one of the major sponsor of Weibo Night. XZ’s ad is playing on the big screen of the venue. Will WYB see it? lol

IV. Red Carpet

WYB ( video )

I prefer this look from last year! Thom Browne is good for him. plus that cape and his hair 🫶🏼 i would have loved it if he participated with what they were doing in the carpet and did the interview, but weibo is trash so i guess it’s okay. lol.

red carpet photoshoot

XZ ( video )

red carpet photoshoot

RED! it’s his color! plus some sparkles. this one is a custom look from GUCCI. i’m kinda bummed out that he did a group red carpet. i think they are the guest of honors and weibo’s way of getting a top hot search. but he still shined! he was so tall!!!!!!!

i’m gonna put this candies here cause they seem to be “red carpet related”. but i’m really cackling over how we manage to put their outfits together as “marriage” outfits once more 😂😂😂😂 lol. cause xz is in red and wyb in black.

some are also curious about gg’s huge ass ring. 👀 ( it’s by boucheron tho )

and the hot search related to xz is whose groom is he but of course there is only one answer. it’s wyb. lol. please stop giving us ammunition to watch! y’all know cpfs are so ready today!

-END (ish) to be continued. ☺️

[mytherapyisreading14]

Between Pregnancy and Prison

Summary: You find out you’re pregnant, unfortunately a couple of weeks after Spencer got arrested in Mexico

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Angst

Warnings: Summary says it all, nothing to add

Word Count: 3k

It is late in the afternoon and gray clouds have gathered. Your apartment is quiet, aside from the soft dripping of rain and the gentle clink of a cup that JJ has just placed on the table. You sit on the old sofa, knees drawn up and hands nervously buried in your lap. You stare at the pregnancy test lying on the table in front of you.

You've been feeling exhausted for weeks, constantly tired, struggling with nausea and always having that slight pulling sensation in your abdomen. You convinced yourself it was just the stress of Spencer being wrongfully arrested. But deep down you knew something was wrong. You weren‘t the only one who noticed this and it didn‘t take long before JJ came up to you and asked you about it.

You were sitting at your desk at work, head in your hand, when you felt the familiar feeling of nausea and a dull ache in your abdomen. Again. It wasn't the first time this week that you felt this way. You had barely eaten anything, but even what little you tried to eat was hard to digest.

"Do you need a break?" JJ asked suddenly, her voice concerned. You looked up. Her eyes still sparkled, but there was something different in her gaze - something that reminded you of your condition. The last few weeks had left their mark not only on you, but also on the rest of the team.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, trying to put on a smile. "Just this damn nausea... and this stomach ache that just won't go away." JJ looked at you intently, as if she didn't fully believe your words. She shook her head slightly.

“You’ve told me about it many times. But it really doesn't sound good when it keeps happening. And you seem pretty... exhausted too. Are you really feeling this bad just because of what happened to Spencer? Or could there be something else behind it?”

You stared at your desk for a moment, the words so clear you almost got a lump in your throat. “What do you mean?” you asked quietly, although you had an idea where the question was going.

JJ took a step closer, her expression becoming even more serious. "I know you're dealing with so much right now, but... have you ever thought that there might be something else behind it?"

There was a moment of silence where you felt like the air around you suddenly became even denser. You swallowed. The nausea in your stomach increased. “You meant...maybe pregnancy?” you whispered.

JJ nodded carefully, her voice soft but firm. “Yes, it could be. I know this isn't really the time to think about this, but... sometimes the body has other signals that we don't immediately understand. Maybe it would help you just get some clarity.”

You sighed deeply and rubbed your stomach with one hand. The thoughts swirled in your head. You couldn't deny it. The last few weeks had been so chaotic that you hadn't even really noticed the changes in your own body. But somehow...somehow it was true. It didn't just feel like stress. There was something else there.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, looking down at the ground. “What if this is all just… stress-related?” you asked. “Then at least you’ll be safe,” JJ said calmly. “It could also just be because you are extremely stressed and your body is reacting to it. But maybe ruling it out will help you.”

You hesitated first, then nod slowly. You knew she was right. "Okay, you’re right,” you finally said, taking a deep breath. “Can you maybe come over then? I… I don’t know if I can do this alone.” JJ smiled as she met your eyes. She saw the pain in them.

“Of course, I’ll come over. We'll do this together, don't worry. Once you know what it is, you can finally think more clearly again.” You suddenly felt a little bit lighter. It was as if the thought of not having to go through this uncertainty alone gave you the space to breathe a little again.

“Thanks, JJ,” you whispered, trying to smile. “No problem,” she said with a smile. "You're not alone. We’ll do this together,” she said before you had to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom once again.

So now, after JJ convinced you to take a pregnany test, the two of you are sitting in your living room. “Are you ready?” JJ asks quietly. She sits in the armchair next to the sofa and eyes you with a mixture of concern and understanding. “It’s okay if you’re not ready. But remember, you need to know what’s going on.”

You close your eyes for a moment. Your thoughts are a chaos of joy and fear, of hope and uncertainty. Yes, you and Spencer always said you wanted to have children. You talked about a life together, about marriage and children and the future. But now everything is messed up.

„I... I don’t know, JJ,” you say, your voice shaking. “There’s just so much that’s going wrong right now. Spencer is still in prison, and what if it's months or worse - years - before he gets out? What if I burden him with this news while he’s sitting in this stupid cell?”

JJ leans forward and places a hand on your shoulder. “You will not burden him with this news. It's a decision you have to make together. And if you're happy, then he'll be happy too. He always wanted to have children. You too. And you need to know if you’re really pregnant.” You take a deep breath. Your mind is racing.

What if Spencer really had to stay in prison that long? You don't want to put this burden on him, but you can't just move on without knowing what's really going on. And you also know that you can no longer live in uncertainty.

You feel like you're stuck, caught between the future you imagined and the frightening reality in which Spencer is still trapped. “Okay,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I'll do it. I want to know.”

JJ nods without saying a word and stands up to pick up the test. She puts the test on the table and looks at you as if to give you time to calm down before daring to look at it. “Are you sure?” JJ asked one last time, standing next to her and looking at her sideways. You nod, your heart beating faster and the nervousness settling in your limbs.

But there's also a small, quiet joy within you - the idea that the dream you and Spencer have always wanted can finally become a reality. You grab the test and slowly turn it over. Your breath hitches as you looked at the results. Two red lines. Clearly.

“Oh my god…” you whisper, a smile spreading uncertainly on your lips. You couldn't help but put your hand over your mouth for a moment. It's so surreal. On the one hand, you are overjoyed. This is what you have always wanted. But at the same time, there's this huge insecurity that you can't shake. What if Spencer isn't there in time to experience it?

“It’s positive,” JJ says softly and smiles. Her voice is calm, but you can see the joy in her eyes. “You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.” You nod, but your eyes fill with tears immediately.

You are happy, so incredibly happy, but also so full of doubts. What should you say to Spencer? How would he react if he heard it? He needs to know, but the thought of breaking that news to him in his current situation somehow feels so... wrong.

“What if he can’t live to see it?” you finally ask, your voice shaky. “What if he doesn’t get out fast enough? How am I supposed to do all this alone?”JJ sits back down on the chair and takes your hand.

“You are not alone. You have me, you have your family, you have the team. And Spencer - even though he's in prison - he's still a part of it. He will be part of this miracle. And when he comes back, he’ll be happy to experience it with you,” she says. “But… the timing…” you start uncertainly, “what if it gets too much for him?” you ask.

“Yes, it’s complicated. Yes, it's not the perfect time. But you know what? There will never be a perfect time. Sometimes you just have to have the courage to take the next step. And you'll see that it turns out to be the right one at some point." You lower the test slowly, but still keep your eyes on it.

The joy you feel is overwhelming - you can already imagine a life with Spencer and a baby. But at this moment uncertainty prevails. You don't know what the future will bring and it scares you. “I’ll tell him right away,” you finally whisper. JJ nods and stands up to hug you.

“That's exactly what you should do. You two will get through this together. No matter what happens.” You close your eyes and hug JJ tightly, the pregnancy test still in your hand. A new chapter has begun, and even if you don't have all the answers, you know you've taken the first step.

-

You've made the trip to prison many times, but today everything is different. The rain has evaporated to a light drizzle, covering the streets in a dull haze. You can barely concentrate, the thought of the news you're about to tell Spencer making your heart beat faster.

Part of you is nervous, the other is happy - it's news you've both always wanted for the future - but now that the moment has come, you feel strange and uncertain. What if he doesn't respond the way you hope? What if that's the last thing he wants to hear in this situation? You can understand it to a certain extent.

When you reach the prison building, you get out and walk through the gate, the sound of the massive door closing is ringing in your ears. The waiting room is the same as always - gray walls, worn chairs and the constant feeling of separation that you can never completely get rid of here. The minutes barely seemed to pass as you wait for him to come in. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

“He’s coming soon,” the security guard says without further ado as he stares at his monitor. You nod and try to organize your thoughts. You sit down, hands nervously on your thighs, then your belly. Your gaze is focused on the window in front of you, through which you will soon see Spencer.

Your eyes are already burning from the tears you desperately have to hold back in order to appear strong. But when the door opens and you see Spencer, his familiar face behind the glass that you miss so much, it feels like your heart is being ripped out.

Spencer looks at you through the window and there is the same exhaustion in his eyes, the same weariness that is in your own eyes. But you can see much more than that - He doesn't belong here. That's the thought that haunts you every time you see him in this environment. You can't imagine what it must feel like to be trapped, innocent, in a system that seemed to be turned against you.

It breaks your heart to see him here. Your eyes fill with tears that you can't hold back, despite your best efforts. “Oh, Spence,” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks as you gently place your hand on the glass, as if you could reach him.

He sits down on the bench on the other side of the glass, and as soon as he looks at you, he immediately notices that something is wrong. He frowns and looks at you worriedly, he also puts his hand on the window as if he wanted to touch yours, even though he knows it won't work. It hurts him to see you like this.

“Hey, hey…” Spencer said quietly when he noticed your tears, and his shoulders immediately tightened. "What's wrong, angel?" His voice is soft, almost fragile. “You have to stop crying. It hurts me to see you like this. I can't reach out to you and hold you in my arms. I can’t comfort you. It breaks my heart.”

You hastily wipe away your tears, trying to regain control of your emotions, but the mix of joy and pain makes it almost impossible. Your heart pounds loudly in your chest as you search for the right words. “It’s just… I’m sorry. I... I just wanted to tell you how much I miss you,” you say.

You need a moment to calm down. “I come with… big news today.” Spencer raises an eyebrow and his gaze becomes even more attentive. “News?” he asks, as if he wants to get every word out of you, but at the same time he also feels the burden you carry with you. It's obvious you have something more important to say.

You take a deep breath and wipe away the last of your tears, even as the emotions continue to rise within you. “I've been feeling worse for the last few weeks. I thought it was just stress after everything that happened. I somehow kept telling myself that. But JJ noticed that I had other symptoms that I just ignored. She said I should take a pregnancy test.”

Spencer stays silent, his eyes still worried, but now a hint of foreboding seems to be stirring in his eyes. “And what did the test show?” he asks cautiously, as if he’s not sure if he really wants to hear the answer. You can't stop yourself from smiling, even though your voice is still shaking. “It’s positive,” you say and the words themselves are creating a different reality.

The moment you said it feels surreal. It's something you've always wanted, a future you've always dreamed of. But at this moment you are not sure whether it all really fits into this world. Spencer is in prison. You are at home, alone. But you know you have to share this message with him. You are going through this together.

“You’re going to be a dad, Spence,” you whisper, and despite the uncertainty you feel, you can’t help the smile that’s starting to form in your eyes. You stare at the glass between you, your hand still placed on it. When you look at Spencer, you notice how his eyes are shining.

He can't quite hide the tears, but there's also a smile on his lips that's so warm that it instantly makes your heart skip a beat. It is a smile that radiates hope and love despite the circumstances, despite the prison and all the fear that stands between you.

“I’m so happy,” he finally says, his voice shaky as he forms the words. “I can hardly believe it. You're going to be a mom. We're going to be parents." He takes a deep breath, and you can hear the relief and joy in his voice, but also the pain that comes with it. “But I should be with you. I should be there to help and support you all the time,” he continues, a glimmer of desperation entering his eyes. “But I can’t help you. There’s nothing I can do for you.”

You feel your heart clench. You know he wants to be with you, to hold your hand, to comfort you, and to experience this together. “Spence,” you whisper, voice soft but full of conviction. “I want nothing more than for you to be here with me. That we experience this together. But we’ll get through it. And I won’t do it alone. I have my friends. I have the team - JJ, also with children, who will help me - we will manage it somehow.”

You feel your voice take on a hint of certainty as you continue. “And we’ll keep trying to get you out of here as quickly as possible. I promise you, we'll do everything we can to get you back with me. I'm now in my eighth week, Spence. We still have a little time, and I will fight to get you back here before the birth date. I don’t know how, but I’ll make sure you’re there when our baby comes.”

Spencer lets out a small, shaky breath as he hears your words. For a moment he just sits there, the smile gone, and yet in his eyes you can see that deep love and gratitude flowing through him. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “You are so incredibly strong. And you are here, despite everything that has happened. You're still there for me. I… I love you so much.”

You swallow, the lump in your throat almost too big to swallow. You want to tell him so many things, make so many promises. But your voice cracked as you replied, “I love you too, Spence. And I will always be there for you. We will get through this together, no matter what happens. We have each other. And that’s the most important thing.”

But suddenly you hear the bang of the door and the prison guard appears in the window, a sign that the time is around o'clock. “I'm sorry, unfortunately time is up. You have to go now,” he says. You take a deep breath and withdraw your hand from the glass.

You give him one last look and you know that this moment is yours - even if it's too short. You smile at him through the glass. “I have to go, Spence,” you say quietly, your voice almost breaking. “But I will come back. And we will do it. We’ll get you out of here soon. You’ll be with me again, I promise you.”

Spencer nods, his eyes following you, and there's an unspoken promise in his expression. “I'm waiting for you. I love you,” he says goodbye. “I love you too,” you say, your voice firm and full of determination. You let your gaze rest on him again, then you slowly stand up, turn around and leave, the thought of him and what you will go through together in your heart.

The hallway is empty as you close the door behind you. You know you don't have to walk this path alone. And you will do everything you can to bring Spencer back - for the team, for yourself, and for the little life you will soon create together.

[mieldreams]

A Very Cherry Christmas

Summary: A cherry incident that leads to a sweet surprise.

(pt two of A Very Berry Christmas)

pairing: single dad!Anakin x single nurse!reader

warnings: flour galore. and fluff. and a liiittle bit of angst, ft. cursed snowmen.

word count: ~4.6k

a/n: really this is just filler with some fluff and angst but I promise the next one is more fun.

Much to your disappointment, you don’t see the little family for the whole week with work keeping you busy. Seriously why did people’s urges to do dumb shit increase so much more during the holidays? Putting up lights on the roof right after it had snowed – who do you think you are? spiderman? And who the heck stores white paint in maison jars and then proceeds to put it in the pantry? Do you not smell anything before you consume it? And why would anyone ever try to open a gift with a freaking axe, did grandpa just wrap the Christmas tree as a present itself?

You did however have brief interactions with the twins – usually on days when your work shift and their school time coincided. Some days their father was with them and he’d give a single nod of acknowledgment in your direction, and other days they were with that same tan woman with the white hair. The first two days she’d looked curiously in your direction when the twins enthusiastically waved at you across the parking lot, but by the third time she’d given you a small smile in greeting as well.

But the lack of run-ins with the family didn’t keep your mind from drifting to the pretty stranger with the kids. Well, guess he wasn’t that much of a stranger now. You weren’t exactly proud to admit but the handsome man from down the hall had popped up in your thoughts more than you thought appropriate, he was a father after all. But weren’t dilfs the latest hot trend?

Well, at least that's what your best friend told you when you mentioned the events of the previous night at your next shift. She had taken one look at the half-assed bun on your head, the drooping eyebags and the too-large cup of coffee before her dull expression shifted.

"Oh. my. god. You have your cursed happy snowman sweater on."

You had given her an incredulous look, laughing as you gathered your scrubs to change into, "What are you talking about?"

You look down at the oversized white sweater with a snowman face on it. You had gotten it on sale and maybe the slightly crooked smile that made your snowman look a little psychotic had something to do with it, but you thought he was cute, so whatever. "And he is not cursed. Just a little misaligned."

She took a sip of her own coffee while pointing at your torso with a challenging brow, "Whatever you say. But you only wear it whenever something nice or lucky happens. And considering Melanie still hasn't been run over by Santa's sleigh Regina George-style," She turned her head to glare at the dark-haired woman who was scolding the new intern about how 'just because it's Christmas doesn't mean you get to bring all this clown stuff to the hospital. This is a professional setting. Do you think any patient will take you seriously with this stuff?'"

A water bottle. A green and red Christmas-themed water bottle is what she was talking about. The two of you sent another glare in her direction before your best friend continued, "I figured it must be something at home."

Her head suddenly snapped to you, eyes widening in excitement, clicking her fingers to point at you, "Wait! Did you get lucky last night?" She wiggles her brows suggestively.

You gave her a smirk in return, "Very."

"Shut up. Tell me!"

You walked into the changing stall and turned around to face her with a smile, "I actually managed to go to bed before 12 yesterday, well sort of."

"Oh, boo!"

You laughed as you closed the door and started changing into your uniform.

"I said fun as in 'young, wild and free' fun, not 'old lady with back pain' fun."

You shouted over the door, "But I am an old lady with back pain."

You heard your best friend sigh dramatically, "Aren't we all?" But her tone shifts and she's quick to ask you another question, "Wait— what do you mean sort of?"

That's when you told her about last night's events. Well, as much as you could before one of the senior nurses called you to discuss a patient. You left with the promise to tell your best friend more at the end of the shift when the two of you can go out for drinks together now that it's the weekend.

You step out of the stall, turning around to walk backwards, "Oh in return, I heard there's going to be a surprise Christmas mini-parade in the hospital. You know the whole singing, decorating and all that. They're looking for volunteers."

The two of you glanced at Melanie again who was now screaming at another young nurse before your best friend turned to give you a devious smirk, "Oh, I know someone who loves singing and decorating…"

You winked at her before turning on your heel to walk out of the locker room.

There had been an unexpected blizzard later that evening yet the bar had been crowded, nothing surprising considering the holiday season. Your best friend poked and prodded at you for more information on Anakin but every time you only shrugged and told her the same thing, "I only met him properly yesterday, that too in my pyjamas. What do you expect me to know, his parent's address?"

She rolled her eyes, "Of course not. But you said he had a pretty face, so what? Is the seat taken or…?"

You laughed as you scolded her, "He has kids. I don't think any man as gorgeous as that would still be tending to his garden alone." You raised your brows at her in a 'if you know what I mean' way before taking another sip of your drink.

The night continued with more drinks flowing in spirit of the holidays (really it was just an excuse to get drunk but you deserved to let loose after working your ass off the past week) and the two of you definitely had your fun. When the night ended, she dropped you off but not without another teasing smile from the back seat, speaking up before you could shut the door.

"Tell hi to your holiday hunk for me." She winked and you laughed, shaking your head in dismissal as you closed the door.

"It's icy on the roads, get home safe. Text me when you reach."

You spoke just loud enough that the driver would hear you, he better know that you're keeping track of your best friend's location.

She wished you a good night just as the taxi pulled away and then drunkenly waived out of the window in the back as the car took a right.

You sighed as you watched the car drive out of sight, only then did you truly realise how tired you felt, the exhaustion of your shift finally catching up to you. The weariness seeped into your bones and made every step that much heavier, slowing you down even more than the snow on the ground.

You couldn't wait to just get home and fall right into bed. Still, the thoughts of your pretty neighbour didn't leave your mind.

It’s the weekend after and somehow Anakin has ended up in the kitchen with the twins at 12 in the morning, again.

See, serving in wars had changed Anakin in ways he had never imagined. Front lines weren’t exactly a place synonymous with warmth and cheer, not unless you enjoyed the warmth of the blood on your hands and the cheer of the so-called victory his bosses had declared. So Anakin had adapted to fulfil his duties – he built an armour around himself to preserve whatever bit of humanity was left in him, a hardened shell to mimic the comfort that none of them could afford, and he also stopped celebrating. None of their conquests felt worth the blood and loss.

That all changed when the twins were born. While his marriage with Padme had started to feel like trying to reignite a wet piece of wood, the first cries of the twins in that plain clinical room had felt like his whole world was splashed with rainbow confetti. But in a matter of seconds the world flipped on its axis when the doctor walked out of the emergency room they had rushed Padme into, delivering that dreadful news and whispering his condolences. Every day after that he wondered if it was worth it, if any of it was worth it. At first the days seemed to drag on, his routine had become pretty stable after his retirement but now the stability felt suffocating, everything became monotonous, and the responsibility of his newborn babies felt like a task he might just never measure up to.

He had ended up isolating himself for days. Hardly stepping out of the house to only buy things for the twins, though most days even that ended in frustration when he couldn't figure out just which baby formula was the best, or if strollers were better than baby carriers, and can babies eat meat? Should he buy this overpriced baby teething toy or that fancy automatic rocking chair? It all felt too much and he had started questioning if he was even fit for fatherhood.

One day, after managing to get through breakfast with two unusually fussy twins, yet another frustrating trip to the grocery store and a disastrous attempt at dinner that ended with a bleeding thumb and a puréed mess of tomatoes that made his kitchen comparable to a crime scene, he had finally broken. He was barely managing to keep his calm when he accidentally opened the forbidden drawer in a hurry to find old clothes to clean the mess, and that's when he saw it. An old photograph from the early days of their marriage. Back when things were much less complicated and the two of them were still floating on the wings of their honeymoon bliss. Back when hope and love drove their relationship to such great heights, the same love that caused it all to crash and burn.

He had ended up calling Obi Wan in near tears, trying so hard to control his breathing, if only for the sake of the sleeping twins. That night he had gotten a good hour-long talk from both Obi Wan and Ahsoka, who made him promise that he wouldn't retreat into himself like that again, that he'd share his problems and let them help him. The sharing part wasn't too bad but he still struggled with the whole 'chill out Skyguy, we'll take the twins for a park adventure and you can just sit at home and relax'.

Relax. Relax. God, he's not sure he even knows how to do this 'chill out' anymore.

But he tried.

Every day he found new reasons to be – right from 'the twins have started crawling, Snips! Soon they'll be taking their first steps- they're already growing up so fast' to 'AHSOKA! OBI WAN! COME HERE QUICK THEY'RE- THEY'RE- THEY SAID THEIR FIRST WORD!' Somehow the twins had said their first words almost at the exact same time, though Leia despite being younger had beat her brother by a few minutes.

He had gotten embarrassingly tearful when they called him 'Papa' for the first time, giggling when they realised how much it shocked him, speechlessly staring at the twins in their high chairs with his mouth dropped open in disbelief. They then proceeded to ecstatically babble the word over and over again in childish glee to make him laugh till they finally exhausted themselves to sleep.

He had cried some more later that evening when he decided that no matter what happened he was going to try his damn best to give the twins everything they deserve, which in his opinion was something more than this universe even, after all they were his universe. He could never imagine a world without his babies and he would do anything for them.

Which is why when the twins attacked him with their full weight as he was watching the evening news from the couch, Luke quickly taking his place behind his dad to massage his shoulders with suspicious generosity and Leia immediately listing all the things they did that day,

“Papa, Luke and I had winter sports practice today.”

“Yes, princess I remember. How’d it go?”

“It went really good. I won first in the race and Luke won in karate practice today! I only got second because this other guy cheated. And we got two stars for our maths homework!"

"That's really good princess, I'm proud of you both."

"And Papa we cleaned our room today, I even sorted all my puzzles into the correct boxes, even the big solar system one," Luke was the one to speak up this time.

"—'Soka helped us vacuum, but we did everything else on our own."

Luke walks around the couch to stand beside his sister, nodding enthusiastically in agreement, "and Miss Lawrence said I was being very good today—"

"and Miss Tran told me I have improved my handwriting—"

"—Okay, what do you guys want?"

The twins blink up at him owlishly. He narrows his eyes when they don't say anything for a minute, only looking at each other from the corner of their eyes as if having a secret conversation in their minds.

Hmm, if this whole twin telepathy thing he heard about was true, he's not sure he's ever going to win any argument against the kids.

And he doesn't. As soon as the twins request, more like politely order him to bake yet another sweet treat for the weekend, fluttering their doe eyes and pouting their sweet pleas, he's hardly able to hold his argument for a few minutes. He tries reminding them of last weekend's berry incident and even resorts to using the good ol' parental excuse of old age exhausting him. Still, their constant pleading and Leia's final resolution of 'if Papa doesn't help us, we're going to make it ourselves' has him finally giving in.

So now here they are, on another Friday evening, well a really early Saturday morning to be accurate, with their matching baking aprons on and some Christmas tunes playing in the background.

Leia's hunched over the countertop, standing on a chair with her small hands stroking an imaginary beard in contemplation, the way she had seen Uncle Obi do, trying to make sense of the cherry-something recipe her dad found on a stray page from his mother's old cookbook. Luke's swearing on his favourite light-up space-themed sneakers that he won't overeat the cherries this time, and Anakin's trying not to lose his mind pitting a whole two pounds of cherries that make his hands look like he just walked off the set of Saw.

"Hmmm, Papa, after a whole lot of deliberation," Anakin pauses his task to raise a brow at his daughter's wording but Leia continues without hesitation, "I think Gramma was being silly and messing with us."

Anakin knows that his daughter is smarter than most and could probably even best him in an argument but he also knows that her mother's prudence holds strong in her, so he understands that what she actually means is "I think your mother may have been a little cuckoo in the brains and was taking the piss out of you."

He laughs as he takes in the very serious look on his daughter's face, "While I would normally believe you kiddo, I can assure you that this recipe is very much real because your very not-silly-dad has tasted it when your not-silly-grandma made it for me as a kid."

Leia only gives him an unconvinced look before climbing down from the chair to walk over to her brother who was standing over the dining table on another chair. She climbs one beside his to look over the table as well.

She sees that Luke has the entire table covered in stray sheets that have unintelligible writing scrawled all over them. The pages are all frail and yellow and she wonders if her papa was wrong and maybe the book belonged to her great-grandmother instead. The pages also have an odd sort of smell and various stains and discoloured spots all over them that make her wrinkle her nose. Well, this book surely must've been…well-loved she thinks.

"Luke, did you find the missing half of the recipe?"

Her brother frowns, "No…I can't even read any of the stuff written on these pages. And that's impossible because we just learned to read last week!"

Leia sighs with a shake of her head, taking in her brother who's again shuffling the sheets in a desperate attempt to find any page similar to the cherry thing recipe their father claims is real, and then glances back at her father who is now practically strangling the cherries into a bloody pulp when she's sure she read the recipe say mix.

She takes in the mess they have made of their apartment – the random specks of flour scattered on the carpet, the stray groceries spilling out of the bag they abandoned after finding the ingredients, the more loose sheets lying on the floor, and the scattered Christmas decorations that were yet to be put up.

She sighs once again before climbing down from the chair and walking back over to the kitchen. She grabs her tablet from the counter and quickly makes a search before walking over to her father. She says nothing as she simply places the device screen side up right next to the bowl he's got his hands in. Anakin stops his cherry slaughtering to glance down at the screen before looking up at his daughter.

"And what is this?"

"Our new plan."

He raises a brow at that, "and why do we need a new plan?"

"Because our house looks like a crime scene and I don't want to go with CPS?"

"Why do you know what a crime scene is? Or even CPS??"

She rolls her eyes, "I'm five, not stupid."

He glances back at the recipe on his screen, "But this says it only a takes a few minutes to make…"

"Exactly."

He pouts at his daughter, "but I thought our baking sessions were father-babies bonding time..don't you wanna spend time with your old man?"

Luke chimes in from his place on the chair, "You're not old, Papa" he giggles, "Uncle Obi is old."

"Wow hold on, hey champ? I want you to remember that and repeat it for me when I get my phone out, okay?"

He removes his hands from the bowl, scrunching his brows and looking at the ceiling in thought, "Hmmm, you know what, I can't remember the last time I hugged you guys…"

Anakin once again exaggerates his pout as he looks back at the twins, "I miss my darlings so much, I just want to hold you in my arms, don't you wanna give daddy a hug?"

Both the twins immediately shake their heads, wide eyes trying to anticipate his moves.

He takes a step forward and Leia takes a step backwards, Luke's tiny hands tighten on the back of the chair.

"Aww c'mon, I think we should have a big ol' group hug like we always do." He opens his arms and wiggles his cherry-stained sticky fingers at them.

The twins once again frantically shake their heads, but there's smiles threatening to grow on their faces.

"No? Hmm I think you guys will change your mind if we give it a try. C'mere—"

And with that he springs forward, the squeals of the twins echo in the apartment as they scramble to get away from his squirming red fingers like they were some goosebumps monster.

"No, papa!" Leia screams as she runs away from him but her toothy grin and giggles give her away. Luke's laughing as their dad scoops his twin into his sticky arms, her tiny hands fisting his shirt as he tickles her belly before placing her on his shoulders like a rucksack, her endless giggles colouring the air.

His laughter quickly dies down when Anakin turns around to set his eyes on Luke next, a smirk taking over his face as he takes slow deliberate steps in his son's direction and Luke shrieks before breaking out into a full sprint with their father hot on his heels.

It doesn't take more than a few steps for Anakin to catch up with Luke's small feet, picking him up with his other arm to tickle him with the sticky fingers.

Leia's still hanging upside down over his shoulder while Luke's giggling as Anakin blows raspberries against his cheek, trying to get away from the attack but he knows his Papa's arm is strong so there's no escape.

But then Leia spots a weapon of her own. As her dad's too busy terrorizing her twin, she uses his distraction to wiggle out of his hold and land on the counter behind him. She bends down to scoop a handful of the powder spilt on the kitchen counter.

Anakin's laughing at his son who's trying to get rid of the cherry slobber all over him when he feels the 'splat' of something hit his back. He immediately freezes.

There's white powder floating in the air and he can feel the stuff in his hair as he hears a small gasp behind him.

He slowly turns around to face his daughter. She's trying to look innocent, hands behind her back to hide the evidence and eyes avoiding his to look up at the ceiling.

He doesn't say anything as he gently places Luke down. The whole apartment is suddenly quiet and he can tell that the twins are holding their breath.

"Oh, it's on."

And just like that the battle starts. There's flour flying everywhere, bright peals of laughter echoing throughout the room, and paper balls and throw pillows joining the arsenal to make it a full-fledged war.

This continues for a good hour and only ends when Anakin comically steps on a pillow covered in flour and goes zooming across the floor to crash into a wall.

They soon end up cleaning everything up before Anakin sends the twins to shower to get rid of the flour and cherry syrup all over them. In the meanwhile Anakin finishes up the cherry cobbler and throws it in the oven.

When the twins finish showering he asks them to keep an eye on the dish while he takes a shower.

"Promise me you won't try to take it out to taste it when it's still hot," the 'like last time' is left out because they all know what he's referring to, specifically with the pointed look in Luke's direction.

Luke simply avoids his dad's eyes while Leia nods dutifully.

When he's done changing into fresh clothes he walks back into the living room where the twins are watching that cursed snowman movie again. He doesn't understand what they love so much about it, if there was a way to shift to a reality where that abomination doesn't exist, he'd gladly do it.

Leia sees him walking into the kitchen to open the oven and jumps off the couch to follow him with Luke trailing right behind.

He removes the pan from the oven and sets it on the counter, "Hey, do you think we should share some of this with Y/n since she helped us last time?"

Leia is the one who answers, "Yeah, she's nice." She's pointedly looking at Anakin but he isn't sure what she means so he just stares back at her until their stare-off is finally broken by Luke chiming in, "Mhm, her sweater was also very soft."

"Oh right," Anakin had entirely forgotten about it, "we should give that back too."

"But what if she doesn't like cherry cobbler?" Luke speaks up again.

"What if she doesn't like cherries?" Leia joins in.

Well shit he hadn't thought of that either.

He scratches his head.

Hmmm, what if you didn't like cherries? but how could they confirm it? It's not like he could just randomly show up at your door right now at 1 in the morning (again) to ask you if you like cherries or not. Or could he…?

No. No, he definitely can't. There's no way he's going to wake you up and inconvenience you again so late at night. But how could they find out then….?

Anakin quickly shakes his head, "Look we made it for ourselves anyway, we can just give her some of it and if she doesn't like it she can just….give it to someone else or something," you seemed too nice to throw it out but the thought of you giving the food he made to someone else didn't sit right with him for some reason.

"Does that mean we get to see Y/N again?" Luke's excited eyes peep over the opposite edge of the counter.

"Nope. At least not today buddy, not right now."

His words are immediately followed by whining from the twins.

"Aww, why not, I wanna give her the sweater back myself—"

"That's not fair, we helped make it too, Papa just wants to talk to her alone—"

"I do not!"

He sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose before straightening up, "Okay, how about this, it's really late right now and we don't want to disturb her again, right? So what if the two of you write her thank you notes that we can stick on the box that we'll give her?"

"Okay!" Both the twins scramble to gather their markers and paper, racing each other to the bedroom for dibs on the glitter pens.

After the twins are done with their notes, Anakin takes them with the promise to give them to you along with the cherry cobbler.

What they don't know is that Anakin's snuck in a little note of his own. Nothing too long, just a simple

'Thank you for last weekend.

Have a Cherry Christmas.'

And it's the first thing you see when you open your door the next morning, you can't help the smile that takes over your face when you read it, standing in your doorway still in the ugly snowman sweater you fell asleep in.

You look down at the tupperware before opening its lid to the most tasty-looking dessert, taking a delicious whiff before closing the lid again.

You hold the 2 cards that came with it in between your lips as you pick up the tupperware with both arms, opening your door and hip checking it to close behind you.

The weekend couldn't have started better really, you can't wait to read the notes and dig into this delicious treat.

You drop off the box on the kitchen counter to open the Christmas themed note cards, greeted by multiple drawings of snowmen and candy canes and even an ambiguous red circle, something you assume is a cherry? a red ball? tomato?? No, it has to be cherry right? But then why did one of them have these mistletoe-like leaves? and who're the two people holding hands underneath it?

You assume it's the twins but the artistic choices are a little...creative so it's hard to make out.

You pull out a spoon and open the lid to scoop up some of the cobbler as you take turns to read each of the notes scribbled in adorable kindergartener handwriting.

The dish is absolutely scrumptious, melting in your mouth with it's sweet tartiness, but what melts your heart is the sweet messages written on the inside of the cards with glitter hearts around them.

You decide this is definitely going on the fridge.

a/n: this was supposed to come out almost a month ago but here we are. it seems I can just never be on schedule...one might as well compare me to local public transit systems -_- so apologies, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

if u did pls like and comment! a little interaction goes a long way ;)

[elikajinnie]

Note: In my red hair era now!! :3 (Totally did not dye it at 2am) Anyways! It didn’t take much convincing for me to post the draft of the dark Soobin piece I wrote for my writing course… so here it is! Just a little bit of self-indulgence.

Warnings: Manipulation, Obsession, Desperation

You weren’t supposed to be here.

You weren’t supposed to be here in this basement.

You were too early. You were too excited to see Soobin after days apart. You’d gotten ready faster than expected, and the thought struck you—why not go a bit earlier? After all, Soobin wouldn’t mind, right?

But when you arrived at his house, he wasn’t there. When you called out his name, the silence stretched. No answer. You didn’t think much of it at first; maybe he was running late. You were early, after all. He wasn’t expect you yet. He would come.

So, you dropped your bag on the couch and decided to grab some water from the kitchen. But that’s when you noticed it—the basement door. Just slightly ajar. A crack, just enough to make you pause.

You frowned. He always kept that door locked. He would always tell you, more than once, not to go down there. "It’s too messy," he’d said. "You don’t want to see it." You’d never pressed him about it. You trusted him.

But now, the door was open.

You should have closed it. You should have turned around. You should have forgotten about it, let it go. But curiosity—stupid, reckless curiosity—pushed you forward. It couldn’t be that bad, could it?

You took the steps down to the basement without a second thought, expecting just another dusty room filled with random boxes, maybe some old furniture, like any other basement.

What you found was far from ordinary.

The sight that greeted you was enough to freeze your blood. A person tied up, gagged, and beaten. Wounded. Bleeding. They barely seemed conscious.

Your heart pounded. Your mind raced. Soobin... What had he done?

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. This—this wasn’t at all what you had imagined your day turning into. Everything felt like it was frozen, like the world around you had stopped, leaving you trapped in this surreal nightmare. Your breath caught in your throat. Your legs refused to move. You wanted to run, to escape, to erase the image burned into your mind, to forget everything about this basement and what you had just discovered.

But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. Who could?

Everything had clicked into place.

You couldn’t believe it at first, but the pieces were falling together, one by one, in a horrifying clarity. The times Soobin would vanish for hours, leaving you wondering where he had gone. You had always brushed it off, chalked it up to his need for space. But now, as you stood in the basement, everything you’d ignored before was staring you in the face.

The metallic smell on him. You had noticed it on occasion, that strange, almost iron-like scent, but had never thought much of it. You thought it was maybe cologne, or something from his work, something that would explain the odd smell. But now, you realized it wasn’t that. It was blood.

And then there were the moments when he’d zone out, the way his eyes would go distant, his hand shaking slightly as he gripped the knife when cutting fruit or vegetables. You had always assumed it was just a passing moment of distraction, but now you understood. The knife. The way his fingers would twitch like he was holding something more than just a blade. Maybe, deep down, you had felt the tension in those moments, something dark, something wrong, but you never wanted to face it.

Now, it all made sense.

Soobin wasn’t just the man you thought you knew. Something inside him had shifted, something that you could never have ever imagined. And you were standing in the midst of it, a twisted reflection of everything he had been hiding from you.

How had you missed it? How had you been so blind?

Before you could even gather any coherent thought, the person in front of you started moving, desperately straining against their restraints. They were trying to speak through their gag, their eyes wide with panic, pleading for help, for something.

You knew what they wanted. You were supposed to be their savior in this moment. You were supposed to untie them, to take them away, to get them out of this basement.

But just as you moved to take that first step, you heard it. That voice. The one you knew so well. The one that always showered you with compliments, asking how your day had been, telling you they loved you, that they wanted you, that they wanted to be with you.

Soobin’s voice.

Your heart skipped a beat as you slowly turned toward the stairs.

There he was. Standing at the top of the stairs, staring right at you. His eyes locked onto yours, cold and unblinking.

You stood frozen, your mind scrambling for any kind of explanation, but nothing made sense. You stared at Soobin, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

"So, what are you doing down here?" His voice was calm, almost casual, as he began walking down the stairs toward you.

You stumbled backward, instinctively stepping past the bound person, still struggling, as you slowly moved deeper into the darkness of the basement. Your mind raced, confusion turning into anger. “Soobin,” you whispered, trying to make sense of it all. "What is this? What the hell is going on?"

You were backing up further now, eyes locked on him, unable to stop yourself from trembling. "This... this is crazy," you spat, trying to put words to the madness before you. "Why—why is this person here? Why are they tied up like this?"

Soobin only smiled, a strange, unsettling glint in his eyes. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he approached you, like he was savoring every second of your confusion.

"You should be thankful," he said softly, his voice almost sweet. "I’m doing this for you."

You shook your head, your stomach turning in knots. "For me?" you repeated, your voice rising with the anger that was bubbling up inside you. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled, his eyes never leaving yours. "This guy—" He gestured toward the person on the floor, who was still struggling helplessly. "He's a creep. He's been stalking you for weeks. Following you, watching you when you thought you were safe."

Your breath caught in your throat. Stalking? You hadn’t noticed anything. Had you missed something? Your mind reeled, trying to process his words, but none of it made sense.

"You don’t have to fear him anymore," Soobin continued, his tone smooth, almost coaxing. "I’m just keeping you safe. Protecting you."

The words hit you like a slap, the realization slowly creeping in. "Keeping me safe?" you asked, voice trembling with disbelief. "So you tied him up and brought him here?"

Soobin’s smile never faltered. "Of course. I couldn’t let him hurt you. I had to keep you safe, baby. You should be thanking me."

Your hands were shaking now, your anger building, the flood of questions choking you. "Thanking you?" you spat, the words bitter on your tongue. "For what, Soobin? For locking someone in your basement?"

He took another step forward, his expression softening, as though he was doing you a favor. "You’ll understand eventually. Just trust me. I’m the only one who truly cares about you."

You stumbled backward, horrified. How could he say that so calmly, as if this was normal? Your heart raced, the anger and fear crashing together in a storm. This wasn’t the Soobin you knew. This was... something else.

And in the back of your mind, the horrifying question lingered: How far was he willing to go to protect you?

Seemingly, Soobin answered the question you hadn’t even fully vocalized, as if he had somehow read your thoughts. “I’ll do anything for you,” he said, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Anything to keep you happy, healthy, and safe.”

Your back hit the wall, and you felt the weight of his words suffocating you. His proximity made it impossible to escape, but you refused to let him close in any further. You couldn’t stay here—not like this.

With a burst of panic, you pushed off the wall and bolted toward the stairs, your mind screaming at your body to move faster. You had to get out. You had to get away.

"You are insane!" you shouted, but your voice was a mere whisper in the chaos of your racing heart.

You heard his footsteps behind you, gaining on you with each stride, his voice pleading in desperation. “Stop! Please, stop! You don’t understand—I'm not your enemy! I would never hurt you! I’m just showing you how much I love you!”

But you couldn’t listen to him. You couldn’t believe him. Not after what you had seen. Every word felt like a lie, and your instincts told you to keep running. Your thoughts screamed at you to keep going, to break free from this madness.

When you reached the front door, your hands fumbled in desperation, the lock clicking open just a fraction, just enough to give you a glimmer of hope. But before you could push it open fully, a force slammed against the door, stopping you in your tracks. Soobin’s hand gripped the door with terrifying strength, his other arm snaking around your waist, pulling you back.

“No,” he growled softly, his grip tightening painfully. “You’re not leaving.”

You struggled, kicking and screaming, trying to break free from his hold, but it was futile. He was too strong. Too determined.

With one swift motion, he slammed you against the wall, the air knocked out of your lungs. Your scream was muffled as his hand pressed firmly over your mouth, his breath hot against your ear. “Please,” he whispered, his voice breaking with a sickening tenderness. “Just trust me. I’m doing this because I love you.”

Tears blurred your vision as you fought against him, but nothing could stop the crushing grip he had on you. You were trapped. And Soobin’s words—his twisted, warped version of love���were the only thing that surrounded you now.

You shook your head violently, rejecting everything Soobin was saying, every word that came out of his mouth. It all sounded like a lie—like twisted manipulation. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe a single thing he said. He couldn’t love you.

But as your eyes locked onto his, something in his gaze made you pause. There was a painful desperation behind those eyes. His breath was shaky as he pleaded with you, willing to do anything just to make you listen. His entire posture screamed of a broken mind, trying to hold onto the only thing he had left: you.

When you glared at him, shaking your head more firmly, his face twisted in agony for just a moment. The rejection seemed to hit him harder than anything else could. You could see it—the way his shoulders sagged, the way his lips trembled as if your refusal had shattered something inside him.

But just as quickly, his desperation surged again. His expression hardened, and he leaned in closer, his voice breaking with the weight of his pleading. “Please,” he whispered, almost pleadingly. “Please, don’t you see? I’m doing this for you. You think I want to hurt you? I would never hurt you. I just need you to understand. We’re meant to be together.”

The words hung in the air, suffocating you. You felt the walls closing in, the air thick with his unrelenting presence. He wasn’t going to stop. You could feel it in your bones.

Before you could protest again, before you could say anything, Soobin’s hand was off your mouth. His lips crashed into yours, demanding, forceful. You tried to push him away, struggling with every ounce of your strength, but it felt like fighting against a storm. You shoved against him, but his grip on you tightened, pulling you deeper into him.

You couldn’t escape him. No matter how hard you tried to push him off, to break free, he only kissed you harder, more insistently. And eventually, the fight left your body. Your resistance waned under the weight of his desperation, the overpowering need to keep you close.

You stopped struggling. Instead, you just felt numb, caught in his grasp, the fight gone from you as you let him control the moment, helpless.

Soobin’s hand cupped your face gently, as if trying to reassure you that this was somehow right. His lips were soft, but his grip was tight, and with every second that passed, the reality of the situation weighed heavier on your chest. His touch, once comforting, now felt like a chain, pulling you deeper into his world—a world you no longer recognized.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged. His eyes searched yours like a man on the edge of losing everything. "I just need you to understand," he murmured, his voice raw. "This is the only way. I can’t let you go. I’ll never let you go."

You wanted to scream, to cry, to push him away again. But there was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart ache. He wasn’t trying to control you. He was broken, consumed by something far darker than anything you could have imagined.

"You’re scaring me, Soobin," you whispered, your voice barely audible, trembling with fear and heartbreak. "This... this isn’t love. This is wrong."

He flinched at your words, but his expression softened again. His thumb gently brushed away a tear that you hadn’t even realized had fallen. "I’m sorry," he whispered, but the apology seemed hollow, buried under the weight of everything that had come before.

You didn’t know what to say, what to do. The man you had once loved—the man who had once shown you kindness—was now a stranger. You felt lost, caught in a nightmare with no way out, no escape.

His voice broke the silence again, but this time, it was softer, almost pleading. "Please," he whispered, "don’t leave me. Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret."

You stared at him, torn between wanting to break free, and the overwhelming urge to somehow make him understand, to make him see that this wasn’t the way. But you knew, deep down, that he was beyond reasoning. There was no escape from him—not now.

And in that moment, you realized you were no longer fighting to escape. You were fighting to hold onto what was left of yourself.

Soobin’s eyes flickered, a glint of something darker passing over them when he noticed how you had stopped resisting fully, how your body had gone still. For a moment, you saw a brief flash of hope in his gaze—like he thought this was the moment you were finally giving in to him.

Without warning, he kissed you again, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that felt suffocating. His hand moved from your face, sliding down to your hip, pulling you closer to him with a force that made your breath catch in your throat. His touch was possessive, as if he was marking you, making sure you knew that you belonged to him now.

You couldn’t stop yourself from flinching, from feeling the weight of his grip, but your body remained frozen against his. His movements were urgent, and as much as you wanted to push him away, you couldn’t find the strength to fight anymore. You were lost.

Soobin pulled back just enough to look at you, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes searched yours, his lips curling into that same twisted, desperate smile. "I knew you’d understand," he whispered, his voice full of a false tenderness that made your skin crawl. "I knew you’d come around."

You stared back at him, feeling a sickening weight in your chest. He wasn’t seeing you anymore. Not really. He was seeing a version of you—one that he could control, one that fit into the world he had created for the two of you. The reality of that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"I’m not… I’m not yours to control, Soobin," you whispered, the words barely audible.

But he didn’t seem to hear you. Or if he did, he didn’t care. His grip on your hip tightened, and he kissed you again, more forcefully this time, as though your words didn’t matter.

And you were left with nothing but the echo of your own helplessness, trapped in his grasp, as everything around you blurred into a nightmare that you couldn’t wake up from.

Note: So this is the piece that intially scared my instructor,, but ya know, its fineeeeeee! Its all for funsies!! :D

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[aropride]

elsa's near-complete isolation from the outside world is insane when u think about it. like, between the time the trolls erased anna's memory and her coronation, we barely see her leave her room, and we only see her in a definitively different part of the castle when she's saying goodbye to her parents at the bottom if the stairs before they go on the trip (when she curtsies. she doesn't hug them. when is the last time she got physical affection from anyone?)

(not the point but i've gone down a mini rabbit hole of trying to figure out the layout of the castle & whether elsa left her room at all- the fireplace room isn't her bedroom, i don't think (it's also the room anna went to when she was dying, i think?) so we know she did leave sometimes, bc that's where her dad gave her the gloves). we don't see where her bathroom is but presumably she has one, probably connected to her room).

as a teenager and young adult her room gets more and more full of snow and ice to the point where leaving it would probably be hard (ignoring frozen/rusted locks, i just mean if anyone saw in there would be questions raised). she has to eat, i would doubt that anyone working there would bring her food considering the snow in her room, maybe her parents brought it to her? maybe there's a little mail-slot type opening for food? we know she has a window, at least. i thought she had a balcony but she doesn't, or at least it's not visible, the one we see is in the hall. so she gets some sunlight, sometimes, but is it even direct sunlight? has she stepped foot outside since she was a child?

we don't see much of elsa and anna's lives as kids/teenagers but we can gather that they interact very rarely if at all. at the coronation they're both incredibly awkward, the impression is that they're near strangers. anna never goes into elsa's room, and elsa's parents do but only for her dad to tell her to repress all her emotions. we don't know if anna and elsa would talk to each other through the door, at first, or if anna was the only one, we just know anna kept trying and trying and getting no response.

and like, no wonder the coronation ceremony freaked her out so bad. she hadn't experienced that level of socialization in years, if ever, let alone the sensory overwhelm of going from being in ur dark quiet room for over a decade to a busy party where ur talking to ur sister for the first time in years and it's loud and busy and they want you to dance and then your sister tells you she wants to get married and invite her fiancé's 12 brothers to live with you. like no wonder she was so anxious and volatile. i would run off into the mountains and build a giant castle to spiral in too

[pandaspwnz]

Whoever decided it was a good idea to bake a pie on a fucking wednesday afternoon is a goddamn clown and should be dropkicked into the sun

[seithr]

Randomly remembered the half-reason i call my oc-verse by the name it has while laying in bed. One-half of the reason i still knew, but I had forgotten what had truly, really cemented it jointly until now

(it was a song from my favourite band I haven't listened to in a while.)

(the song fit so well at the time, still does, that i needed to hold onto it for the main protagonists forever, by partially naming their story in reference.)

Does this explanation make any sense? Does anyone know why I'm tearing up remembering this. Aahh

[snekdood]

ik we talk about "karma" in the sense of "whatever you do will come back to bite you", but in a more realistic sense it just means action. every action has a reaction, etc. which is why its incorrect to blame your god/gods for the way you're mistreated in life bc 1. everyone has free-will and 2. they dont have control over the wheel of karma (at least not in hinduism), so when you're mistreated, you shouldn't ask "what have I done to accrue karma in the form of mistreatment" you should ask "why do these people suck so much", lol. it's not your god/gods punishing you, its other people exercising their free will and choosing to use it in a way that makes them suck as human beings 🤷 dont let people get off the hook by blaming the gods or some sort of nebulous "karma" you cant pin down, blame the people for being pieces of shits, dont let them think they're not actors in this and are just dutifully mistreating you on behalf of the laws of karma, bc they aren't, thats not how karma fucking works.

[overnightheartbeats]

Isaac didn't comment on anything Wally was telling him. He had pulled some of this from his file after all. Graduating top of his class, the divine intervention from the late Agent Hurst. His question about becoming an agent seemed rhetorical, though it did invite him to answer. But, before he had a chance, Wally continued. "From analyst to field agent." That doesn't just happen. Isaac just found it so interesting how easily that agent maneuvered through the agency and set Wally up to exceed expectations. Isaac had seen that too. All supervisors had nothing but good things to say about his work. Even the performance reports from Karina were filled with compliments. "You've been at this for a long while, maybe at first you owed him. But he kicked the bucket, a while ago." Why was he still there?

Leave it to his timing, of course. Isaac's question being answered. His head tilted curiously at how adamant he was to not go against her. It did sound like loyalty, something that was burning on his tongue to question. "Your niece?" What the hell was he...? Ah. "She has your niece." Not holding her somewhere, he'd assume. Isaac figured Wally wouldn't be standing here talking to him if that were the case. If his initial reaction was any indicator, chances were, he'd be tearing the place apart. Isaac wouldn't blame him, he'd do the same for his own niece. "If your niece is at risk, why wouldn't her parents deserve to know? It's not about whether I blab or not, but if we're going to work against Karina, I don't feel comfortable leaving your niece on the playing board." His frown was quick to make an appearance when Wally poked his chest, he wasn't serious. "You've made your point. That's why I'm here gathering everything before we go in."

Medically induced coma, therapy, and all the other things he mentioned. Karina's vendetta against him had to be something deep, because, even from his limited viewpoint, it was clear she was trying to wipe him off. Laser focused on destroying him. "That does sound pretty damning. Canary's? I won't ask if all the information I need is in front of me. Trust me, I'm not interested in involving more people in this. Everything you say seems to end in multiple injuries. I have to say I'm impressed you're not dead yet." Did Isaac struggle just a bit to say that? Yes, maybe. Just when he thought they were doing better, he seemed to say something to irk him once again. His eye roll was impossible to hide. Ask someone to not get caught, and in the same breath tell him to not lurk. Make it make sense. "I won't lurk if I don't have to, but don't kill me if I still lurk next time I see you." With that, he adjusted his jacket before making his way out the same way they had come in.

The walk back to his car should've helped Isaac cool down and find his footing again. Sure, Wally was irritating him to his very core, but he still deserved the help. Yet, Isaac couldn't look past the insane amount of frustration he felt dealing with him. Once he was back in his car, he dialed the person who could give him some clarity. The person he trusted with advice and the wake up calls. His brother. "I don't even know if I'm calling for you to talk me out of this or to tell me to keep this case. I just can't do this. Is it crazy to think that I rather be chasing some sick criminal around the globe over being here? And no, Louisiana is not the reason I'm losing it." Though it also didn't help.

"Since I was twenty two." That was a long ass time ago. "I have an idea but nothing concrete that I can work with." He hummed as he confirmed without saying much on the matter. "He took me out of Quantico the day before graduation. Graduated top of my class. Star pupil and the like." It was almost like he was watching it replay in his mind as he talked about it. "Recruited me for a special Black Ops division. Needed someone like me and my skills. I wasn't supposed to be an agent you know that?" He didn't let Issac i interrupt. "I was an analyst. Desk duty bound. Except I had exceptional field skills. Part of the Christmas project. You guys know all about it. Your offices handed out those standardized tests to kids. Being smart didn't need to give such a sentence as this."

"I can't. Even if I wanted to. I can't and will not go against her. Not for loyalty but I can't risk my niece. Hence," he gestured around. "All this cloak and dagger bullshit. Her parents don't know so don't you go blab it." He got down from his counter and sighed. Poking his chest, "So if you got a plan. It can't be half cocked."

He hummed. "Madrid was the case I was in a medically induced coma for a month. Therapy was assigned too. My cognitive skills were not harmed luckily as I heard all of them say. But that was the only time she had a neutral stance. I can't prove she did anything to me but there's one I can. Canarys mission. You can't ask me how I got this." Another person he wanted to keep out of this was his girlfriend. Who back then was just a friend or an annoyance if you asked her back then. "Sustained multiple injuries then too. But if you're really here to help then," he shrugged and nodded. "Dont get caught." He knew he'd see this guy again. "Do yourself a favor don't lurk in the shadows I hate that.'

[seranextdoor]

tw. dark content, brief gory descriptions, smut, size difference.

pairing. mr. crawling x fem! reader. 1k words.

- i wish there was more on blissful love life end route, wish i couldve fuck this cute little shyt until he blabberin' :p i love this gameeeeeee! sorry for suddenly writing about homicipher after months of ghosting u guys.. hehe...

The smell of death lingers in the air ever since you brought along the certain entity to the overworld. It's faint enough to let you know that he was watching.

Not that you mind, he practically latched onto you like a barnacle the first time he met you at that strange hallway. Mr. Crawling, despite the oddities that comes along his unique charms, was a pleasant companion. Maybe it's the fact that you'd noticed the dark figure, slouching at the corner of your room, or the fact that you'd woke up with him next to you, the high-pitched giggling causing you to stir awake at the darkest hour.

You wonder if Mr. Crawling gets bored at times. You can't blame him, the underworld where he is from an endless maze with sharp corners here and there, not to mention the occasional earthquakes that change the layout of the map. Comparing his world to your little apartment was laughable. Maybe that's why you started feeling his cold fingertips running underneath the thin fabric of your clothes. Not that you'd stop him, Not that you want him to anyway. You taught him a few things, mainly how humans express their love. It's nice to have someone dote on you for bringing them a bowl of fresh human flesh.

'It's better to be with Mr. Crawling,' you thought.

Being with a human means it'll increase the chance of you getting caught and you wouldn't be able to go on another killing spree. At least Mr. Crawling accepts you for who you are.

"You... like?" his croaky voice puts your running thoughts to the side as you tilt your head, your eyes looking at him before they avert down to his wandering hand. His fingers are abnormally slender with a grayish tint as he slowly brushed them on your stomach before they went lower and lower until his fingers practically hovered over your lower body. He gives you a look, "need you." he points down at your clothed pussy, your cheeks quickly warms up at his words.

"Can touch?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. His fingers trembled the more he waited for your response like he itched to touch you. "Can." you give him a brief nod as his fingers slowly slipped under your shorts, spreading your folds before he pressed down on your clit causing your breath to hitches. You watched with staggered breathing as his hand moved in a circular motion, rubbing your clit slowly as your sopping hole clenched around nothing. "Good? Enjoyable?" he asked, giggling when you gasped and nodded at his words while he traced your slit, getting your juices all over his nimble digits.

His kisses are sloppy, and the metallic taste of blood from the flesh he consumed for dinner comes in as the aftertaste when you pull back for some air. Mr Crawling quickly chases after your lips, pressing his cracked and cold ones on yours as his tongue shamelessly swirls around yours. With enough juices coating his fingers, he easily slipped it into your entrance as it squelches, his other hand holding your thigh to keep your legs spreading. “Look down,” he pulled his fingers out with a small pop, proudly showing his wet and pruney fingers to you before he slipped them into his mouth. “heh, good. Me happy!” he giggled, moving on top of you as you rested your legs on each side of his body.

“Mr. Crawling...” you whined, watching him with blurry vision as he pulled the black clothing up, just enough for his cock to peek through. It's almost as if the entity wants you to see it, wants you to see how desperate he is. His pre-cum glistens and gather at the tip of his cock, bulging vein runs on the side of his shaft as your eyes shifts to the patch of dark hair on his pelvis. His knees dig into the mattress, his hand aligning the tip of his cock into your entrance. “Me... go into you slow.” he gently prods your hole with the tip of his cock, shifting his eyes on your face and down to your pussy as he pushes his thick cock past the ring of muscles.

You wince, the girth of his cock is stretching you to the maximum. "Hurt? Pain? Desire me go out?" he asked, looking down at you before you shook your head at his question, "I'm glad." he smiled at your reaction. Your fingers holding onto his biceps as your nails left crescent marks on his skin. "Pat, pat." he rubs your head, cupping your cheek as his cock throbs inside of you when your velvety walls flutters to adjust to his size. "Pretty." he whispers, leaning down to peck your lips. He lets you roll your hips, slowly fucking yourself into his fat cock while he holds your hip. "Like this? Happy?" he asked, his hips stuttering as he thrust back into you, matching your slow rhythm.

"Like it..." you replied, breathless as he began to pick up his pace. He was consistent, the tip of his cock brushing against the spot that sends you seeing stars on your ceilings with every single thrust, your nails raking down on his back, leaving claw marks which heals up as quickly as it came. The sound of skin slapping reverberates around the walls as Mr. Crawling gasps and pants in your ear each time he desperately slammed his cock into you. His long, black locks falling over your face, tangling with your hair and sticking to your forehead and chest. “Like you... Like this..." he chants, sharp teeth nibbling on your neck and down to your collarbones, leaving a trail of dark bruises in his wake.

“Close... me close,” his thick cock throbs inside of you, rubbing furiously against your walls as he holds your hips. His breath brushing against your lips as he gasped, “Come? Need you come," he begged, slobbery tongue poking out to flicks your swollen lips as he coaxed you into cumming on his cock by sharply rutting his cock inside of you as the lewd squelches from taking his cock deeper and deeper increases.

He pushes his hips into you when you came all over his cock, he quickly pushes his cock as deep as he can before his hot seeds spill into your womb, spilling out of your whole when he pulled out to rest his cock on your pelvis. He's still cumming, spurting the strings of loads on your stomach as you panted, your chest heaving up and down as he lazily kisses your neck and up to your flushed face,

"...Pretty."

[soleilapproves]

The one where Toji gets a buzz cut.

Masterlist

-•-

You dropped the grocery bags on the ground when you were greeted by your boyfriend.

But not out of excitement or happiness.

“No! Your glorious hair!” You dramatically walked to him so you could take a closer look at the damage. Toji, being the evil man he was, laughed at your response. “What d’ya think? I hated my hair covering my eyes while I was on missions so I tried something new.”

“Something new? You look like a felon!” You groaned as your hands roamed around his scalp, hoping for a miracle that would grow his hair back.

“Alright, that’s too far. I thought chicks dug this look.”

“Not on you! Maybe some weirdo that doesn’t look like an assassin for hire.”

“But I am one.”

“That’s besides the point, Toji. You’ve hurt me. By cutting off your hair you’ve also cut off any ties you had with me.” You sulk.

Toji was starting to feel self conscious even when he knew the adjustment phase would go away. “Do I really look that bad, doll?”

“No, but-“

“There’s a but? Okay, that’s it, I’m not touching you from now on. Since I look so bad, you can come to me when you find me attractive.” Okay this was turned into a real argument and you started to get agitated too.

“Fine! Let’s see who’ll last longer.”

Toji simply scoffed and walked back into his man cave.

Who knows how long you guys were planning to do this for?

-•-

A long time. You both can go without touching each other for a long time. It had been a week and a half without any physical intimacy but the relationship was normal, you both spoke about anything and everything. Neither of you were showing signs of caving in (or were just that good at hiding it).

It was a quiet afternoon. Toji was out buying some last minute ingredients for dinner and you were starting to miss him. And as much you hated to admit, the buzz cut was growing on you. Just the other day you had to fan yourself when you saw Toji doing pushups where he looked like an underground fighter prepping for his next match.

To distract yourself you decided to spend your time calling your friend instead. You put her on speaker while you organized your closet.

“Girl, what do you mean it’s ugly? It’s all the rage right now.”

“I know. I hated it when he first got it and now all I can think about is pouncing on him. Ugh, I hate myself.”

“You live together. Just go touch him, you fool.”

“No, I’ll lose and I can’t lose to him. He’s always winning bets between the two of us.”

The conversation went on for a few more minutes until your friend had some urgent business to attend to.

You turned around to grab the rest of clothes and shrieked when you saw a tall figure standing in the door way.

It was Toji. “Did you hear everything?”

“I’ve been here since you admitted that my haircut was hot. Do what you will with that info.”

You sighed as you sat down on the bed. “I guess that means you win.” He could tell you were pouting even when you were turned away from him. He smiled at your childishness and gathered you in his arms and made you lay on top of him as he laid down on the bed. “There, you won.”

“No, it doesn’t work like that. I admitted that I wanted you first so you’re still the winner.”

“Then you’ll be happy to know I’ve been thinking about pouncing on you since the day I got my haircut. I wanted to do it out of spite cause I knew you’d cave in but then we made that stupid bet.”

“Ugh, I’m so stupid. You do not look bad at all, Toji. In fact, you look like a hot felon. The type of felon that has a girlfriend who visits him.” You mumbled as you played with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Uhuh, and does she do overnight visits?” He then started attacking your face with kisses as you start giggling.

It was you and your hot felon against the world.

[ivyues]

Studio Interruptions - Bang Chan

Changbin didn't expect to walk in on an passionate encounter.

Changbin pushed open the studio door, his head full of lyrics and chords. “Hyung, I think I figured out—”

“AHHHH!”

A deep, startled shout tore through the room like a thunderclap, and you and Chris practically jumped apart like someone had set off an alarm. Chris almost fell out of his chair, and you fumbled back into the desk, your face turning bright red as you tried to get your bearings.

You had been completely lost in the moment – Chris sitting in his chair with you leaning over him, his hands on your waist as the two of you shared what could only be described as a very involved make-out session. The sudden noise broke the spell so violently that it left both of you scrambling for some semblance of composure.

“CHANGBIN?!” Chris practically yelled, his voice cracking as he gripped the armrests to steady himself. “WHAT THE – WHY DID YOU SCREAM?!”

“I COULD ASK YOU THE SAME QUESTION!” Changbin shot back, his face a mix of disbelief and amusement as he stared at the two of you, wide-eyed. “I wasn’t expecting to walk into – that!” He gestured vaguely toward you and Chris, his voice low but incredulous.

You covered your face with your hands, utterly mortified. Chris groaned loudly, dragging a hand down his face as his ears turned bright red. “Could you have knocked?” he mumbled, clearly trying to gather whatever was left of his dignity.

“I don’t need to knock when I come into the studio!” Changbin argued, his voice still carrying an edge of disbelief. “I thought you were, I don’t know, actually working on music – not on each other.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, covering your face to hide your embarrassment. Chris, on the other hand, groaned, clearly mortified. “You didn’t have to scream, man! You scared us more than we scared you!”

Changbin finally straightened up, still breathing heavily, though a sly smile tugged at his lips. “To be fair, it was pure instinct. You’re lucky it was me who walked in and not Han. If it were him, he’d have screamed, run into the doorframe, and then passed out.”

You groaned, finally letting your hands drop from your face. “Okay, okay, we get it.”

Changbin’s grin only grew wider as he started toward the door. “All I’m saying is, next time, put a sock on the door or something! Give a man some warning before you start sticking your tongues in each other’s mouths.”

He shot you both a wink before slipping out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar behind him.

The studio fell into silence. For a moment, you and Chris just sat there, trying to shake off the awkwardness. Chris exhaled heavily, his eyes still wide as he leaned back in his chair. 

You let out a small laugh, still feeling the heat in your cheeks. “They are never going to live this down, are they?”

Chris tilted his head back, groaning dramatically. “Nope. Knowing Changbin, he’s probably already telling the others right now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his misery. “We’ll have to be more careful next time.”

Chris gave you a look, his lips quirking into a small smirk. “You’re assuming there’s going to be a next time in the studio?”

You raised an eyebrow, grinning back at him. “Oh, please. You were the one who couldn’t keep his hands off of me today.”

Chris sat up straight, his ears turning red all over again. “Me?!” he sputtered, pointing at himself in disbelief. “You were the one practically crawling into my lap!”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a laugh. “Oh, so now it’s my fault?”

Chris opened his mouth to argue but ended up shaking his head with a chuckle, slumping back into his chair. “Fine, maybe it’s both of our faults. But next time, we’re locking the door.”

As you sat down on the sofa, you touched your ears. “Man, he really did scream loud, though. I’m still recovering.” you said, laughing.

Chris sighed, trying to hide his smile as he spun back towards the computer, muttering something about needing to actually get work done – though you were both fully aware that this wasn’t the last time you’d risk being caught.

masterlist

[windsson]

Hugging someone for the first time when you’re blind reveals a lot. Granted, Makani didn’t have a lot of hugs in his life, but there were sometimes family members, the occasional elementary teacher, where Makani could get a better idea of what everyone else got to see, even if just for a moment, like a flashbulb.

Makani had already felt his hands (way softer than mine, long fingers, kind of clammy but it was kind of sweet) and his forearms (skinnier than I expected) and he knew he had long-ish hair. When you wrap your arms around someone, gather them up into all those points of contact, for just a second you can add to your mental image.

He didn’t necessarily need one, since his ideas of people became more about things like the sounds of their voices, textures, smells, and sounds that remind you of them- but since Makani had once been able to see, in many ways he still thought somewhat visually. He remembered what people looked like, generally- maybe not all the nuances, but having somewhat of an idea of what someone might look like made him feel more connected to the person.

It’a a few seconds, maybe (maybe lasting a liiiittle longer than what was normal hug length, but when you’ve only had a few in your life, you haven’t got the timing yet, perhaps) but in those seconds Makani could gather a few things.

First, whatever he was wearing (a poncho, maybe?) was like, insanely soft. He’d have to ask where to get one of these. Bruno was also shorter than Makani, which he wasn’t expecting. Not only was Makani shorter than most other men, but he knew Bruno was older, and he supposed he always pictured people older than him as taller. He was thin all around and Makani could even feel his hair for a second against the side of his face- okay, THAT was insanely soft too, no fair.

He was saying some kind of “thank you thank you thank you!” or something of that caliber when he pulls away and the world got a little darker again.

“Whatever you need to do, let me know how I can help. A-And if it’s ever too much trouble, please, we don’t have to do this,” he says, waving his hands a little as he sensed what sounded like hesitation in the other man’s voice.

“And hey, you aren’t even alone! You’ve got me, and Hernando, and Jorge~!”

Makani listens carefully, pale eyes fixated toward the floor as he concentrates on Bruno before perking up with a gasp.

“That’s it!” He exclaims, maybe a little too loudly, but the longer Makani spent in the casita the more he didn’t feel like he needed to keep himself so composed. He even cried in front of Bruno.

He reaches up after feeling Bruno’s hand on his shoulder, grabbing to find the other man’s arms, then his hands, before holding both of Bruno’s hands in his own.

“I can’t be mad! You can see the future and that means I’m supposed to be here! F-For some reason. Gah, if we just knew for what, maybe I could convince father…”

Makani thinks for a second before turning his head back toward Bruno, not really making eye contact but facing him, using Bruno’s hands to pull himself up to his feet. He keeps a grip on his hands (are my hands really that calloused in comparison??) and continues,

“Do they just happen, or can you make them happen? Like, when you see the future- can we see what happens later? O-Or is it- does it not work that way. If it’s too hard, you shouldn’t! You’re an adult, I don’t need to tell you that-“ he trails off, smiling sheepishly off to the side.

[misswynters]

More than a Transaction

featuring. sevika x gn!reader

requested by anon

The brothel wasn’t a place for love. It was a place for survival, a stage where affection was an act and intimacy a commodity. You’d grown used to it, the numb to the fleeting touches, the hollow words whispered in your ear. Love had never been in the cards for you, and you’d long since accepted it.

That was until she walked in. The first time you saw Sevika, she stood out from the usual clientele. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a presence that turned heads and silenced conversations. Her mechanical arm gleamed under the dim lights, and her dark eyes swept the room like she was looking for something, or maybe someone.

“I need a room,” she said, her voice gravelly and low, the kind that made you pause.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. You’d heard whispers about her before, Silco’s right hand, a woman to be feared. Yet as she followed you upstairs, her heavy boots echoing against the floorboards, she didn’t seem dangerous. Just… tired.

In the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She looked around, her gaze lingering on the peeling wallpaper and the flickering candle on the nightstand. “You don’t look like you belong here,” she said, breaking the silence.

You crossed your arms as your looked at her. “Neither do you.”

Her lips quirked into a smirk. “Fair enough.”

At the time, you thought she was just another patron. Someone passing through, here for a night of comfort before disappearing back into the shadows of Zaun. But Sevika wasn’t like the others. The first few visits were business. Silco had sent her to gather information, and the brothel was the perfect place for secrets to spill. She came to you because you were good at what you did: disarming people with a smile, coaxing out truths without them realizing.

“What’s he like?” you asked one evening, lounging on the bed as she nursed a glass of whiskey.

“Who?” she asked.

“Silco. Your boss.” you said plainly.

Sevika leaned back, her smirk fading into something thoughtful. “He’s… complicated. But he knows what he wants, and he doesn’t stop until he gets it.”

“God, sounds exhausting,” you said with a wry smile.

She chuckled, the sound low and rough. “It is.”

You didn’t press further, and she didn’t offer more. But as the weeks passed, her visits became less about Silco and more about you.

One evening, Sevika arrived looking worse for wear. Her knuckles were split, her lip bruised, and a storm cloud seemed to hang over her head.

“What happened to you?” you asked, grabbing a damp cloth to clean her wounds.

“Work,” she muttered, wincing as you dabbed at her lip.

“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended.

She smirked despite the pain. “What, worried about me or something?”

You didn’t answer, focusing instead on her hand, where fresh blood was crusted over her skin. Her gaze lingered on you as you worked, softer than usual.

“You’re different,” she said after a long pause.

You glanced up. “Different how?”

“From the others. You don’t… fake it the same way.”

You laughed bitterly. “I fake it just like everyone else.”

She shook her head. “Not with me.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and confusing. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. The silence even though had some tension lingering was comforting.

Over time, Sevika became a fixture in your life. She brought small gifts when she visited. A book she thought you’d like, a bottle of wine she’d picked up on the way, a scarf when the weather turned cold. “You’re spoiling me,” you teased one night as you unwrapped a delicate silver bracelet she’d brought.

“Maybe I like spoiling you,” she replied, her smirk softening into something almost shy.

You’d never had someone treat you like this before. For so long, you’d told yourself you didn’t need love, that it wasn’t meant for people like you. But Sevika made you question that.

One evening, she arrived in an even darker mood than usual. Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight, and the tension radiated off her like a storm.

“Rough night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. She didn’t answer right away, pacing the room like a caged animal. Finally, she stopped, her eyes meeting yours.

“Why do you do this?” she asked abruptly.

“Do what?” you asked with a slight concerned look on your face.

“This,” she said, gesturing around the room. “This life. You’re better than this place.” Her words stung more than they should have. “And what should I be doing instead?” you snapped. “Changing the world? Leading a revolution?”

“You could,” she said simply.

You stared at her, caught off guard. She wasn’t mocking you as you thought a second ago, she meant it.

“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

She stepped closer, her rough hand brushing against yours. “Because you’re worth more than this. You just don’t see it yet.”

That night, something shifted between you. Sevika stopped pretending her visits were for Silco and started coming just for you. She stayed longer, lingering even after the candles burned low. You talked for hours, about everything and nothing.

“What do you want out of life?” she asked one night, her voice softer than usual.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve never thought about it.”

“Well, think about it,” she said, leaning back against the bed with a rare, relaxed air. “You deserve more than this.”

Her words stayed with you long after she left. The brothel wasn’t a place for love, but somehow, Sevika had found you there. She wasn’t perfect, far from it. She was rough around the edges, guarded and prone to anger. But with you, she was different. Softer. And for the first time in your life, you felt truly seen.

“Stay with me,” you whispered one night as she pulled on her jacket to leave.

She paused, her hand hovering over the door handle. “I can’t promise you a happy ending,” she said, her voice heavy with regret.

“I don’t need to be happy,” you replied. “I just want you.” Sevika turned, her dark eyes searching yours. Finally, she closed the distance between you, her calloused hand cupping your cheek.

“You’ve got me,” she said softly, her lips brushing against yours. “For as long as you’ll have me.” And for the first time, the brothel didn’t feel like a place of survival. It felt like home.

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