#mostly because it's grey/white-ish now so it looks less

[chaosandthe-deadblog]

Sunny's unnofficial rendering tutorial because idk why but people say they like how I color

Hey kid. So you got your drawing, right? And you have your flat colors, now you gotta render 'em, right? Then you find that BAM, you have no idea how to make it look cool? Neither do I! But here's what I do (I've been told that my coloring is cool)

1. Place your flat colors

Imagine these are your flats. A few things: you want your base colors to be all around the same hue, that way they look better together. See how all the blacks, greys and whites are purple/blue-ish? That's on purpose babey! But how do you acheive this? idfk. jk, you have to stay on one (or two) areas of a hue wheel.

This way, all the colors look like, nicer around each other. You're not FORBIDDEN from going outside an area you picked, but you should still try to make sure everything is in the same hue so you have to do less overlay layers later.

(FYI: I do this because it saves me time on rendering. I don't think it's mandatory, there's no rules to art. Go crazy!)

2. Shading

I think shading makes or breaks a drawing. Personally I don't have a lot of rules about it, but there are still tips I can give.

So here's what you gonna do. You're gonna pick a color that's somewhere on the opposite of your main hue, alright? Here, my hue is mostly cold colors, so I'm going to pick a warm tone. You're gonna make sure it's dark enough so it's like, a shade, but not enough so it becomes black when you set the shading layer to multiply.

(Note: I never get this right on the first try)

(Another note: as you can see, I have the entire drawing, including the lines, inside a group. Don't worry! I'll explain this later)

Personally I like to use a paintbrush-esque brush because I like the look of it being hand-painted that it gives my art. Mine is the default paint tool sai brush, but I'll leave the settings down here just in case.

I don't. Really know how to explain the way I shade, I mostly follow the lines I already placed in the lineart phase, and give them depth. I guess my biggest tip would be to FOLLOW THE CLOTHING FOLDS!!!

Idk how to explain this. But people always tell me that they like how I shade the clothes, it's because I follow the fold lines I place on the lineart phase! Not only does this give the clothes depth, it also makes shading a lot easier. Follow your lineart, idk what else to tell ya.

Now you're gonna set the layer to multiply...

And lower the opacity as much as you want until it looks good. No real rules to this, it's kind of depending on the vibe you want your piece to have.

Now, and stay with me here, grab a blending tool, okay? This is the one I use, I have a textured version for when I'm feeling brave, and a regular, flat version (the one I use the most) Here I'll use the flat version.

And. Stay with me here. I want you to blend the FUCK out of this. Just absolutely destroy those borders. Okay? Trust me. If it looks messy you're doing it right. You're gonna want to follow the shape of the shadows tho, this way you don't lose the shape of the objects you're shading.

Woah! Suddenly everything has depth! Let me go back to the clothing folds, because holy shit, the clothing folds.

See how I'm adding depth to the shadows I placed by kinda. Following the line I drew and blending the outside? Idk how to explain this. You blend whatever isn't touching the line, okay? Trust me.

3. Lighting

Ok. I'm holding your hand gently. You have to do lighting on your art, okay? You have to. It adds depth to the shapes and also is sososoososo easy. Here's how. It's so easy.

Grab your airbrush tool. Yes, that one. Hear me out okay?

Pick a light, warm color between yellow and orange.

Stay with me. Make a new layer, set it to whatever lighting mode you prefer. I use luminosity because I live dangerously.

Now.

Airbrush everything that the shadows aren't touching. Yes. I'm serious.

It's gonna look ugly as shit. DON'T BE ALARMED. This is part of the process. I want you to take the blur tool. And blur the ever loving fuck out of this. Just go fucking ham.

Good. You're doing so well. You're being so brave. Now lower the opacity as much as you want, until you like the way it looks.

Like so. I also like to add a few brush strokes and blend them on an up-and-down motion for the hair and certain details, but this is optional. Same as before, you're gonna take a (slightly warmer, but still bright color) and make a new layer on luminosity mode.

Take the blending tool and make it small, only slightly bigger than the brush strokes, and blend these lines until they look nice. Adjust the opacity, and voila!

Now, I could stop here. But I'm extra so I keep going.

4. The pizzazz

AKA, "Ah fuck the colors don't look the way I wanted them to!"

Do not worry! I have a solution that's almost never failed me.

Overlays. Just a whole fuckton of them. I don't really have a method to this, I just kinda try colors and layer modes until something looks good.

For this one, I felt like I wanted the colors to be warmer, so I picked a warm color and overlayed it on multiply. Then, I noticed that the darker colors came out darker than planned, and you couldn't really tell them apart, so I picked a light warm color and overlayed it on screen.

Voila! We're not done! There's one more thing I like to do, and here's where the layer folder comes in!

Remember how I said I keep everything, including the lines in a folder? This is why!

Make a layer that's on top of everything, like this. Pick whatever color you want, make sure it's bright. (Personally I like using pink). Take the airbrush tool again and airbrush whatever edges you want to give a little more pizzazz to.

Blur it as much as you'd like...

And adjust the opacity and layer mode however you like!

5. And done!

Sometimes I add white highlights. Sometimes I add more shading, or more lighting. It depends! But this is the method I use in a nutshell.

Hope you enjoyed it, or at the very least realized idk what the fuck I'm doing!

[meirimerens]

this may be very specific, but what are your thoughts on how True & Canonical™ eye colours of pathologic characters should be like? with some of them, i notice, the colours differ between photo portraits and the models, and then they also differ in the remake? like, as an example, to me personally Stamatins' eyes seem darker when you look on the photo of the dude who's appearance was taken for their design. and in my opinion Kains – and Maria especially – look better with blue eyes because. well there gotta be something menacing and hellish about them innit

now THAT'S the kinda question i wanna be asked. ok let's all look at this together.

of those that differ from canon that i can think of off the top of my head:

STAKH: p1 reddish dark brown, p2 lighter, kinda honeyed brown

he's gotta have brown eyes is all i care about. i do love his p1 red "fiery" eyes... i do. i tend to prefer a more """natural""" color so my ideal would be between these too... dark like his p1 with its hints of red, but more "natural" like his p2.

EVA: p1 hazel-ish, p2 blue

her p2 model (and characterization) piss me off sooo bad they've stripped her of her depth of her warmth of her clover-cinnamon-cloves-cumin scent. her blue eyes make her look so much more babyish, which combined with her Worse p2 outfit, make me grind my teeth. give her her hazel eyes back and nobody gets hurt.

MARIA: p1 blue, p2 brown

SHE NEEDS HER BLUE EYES. I'M NOT FUCKING AROUND. you are literally so right when you say "something menacing and hellish" it is so true. the combination of dark hair + blue eyes is Scawey especially on her, and in p1 seems to denote Freaks (maria, the twins, lara doesn't count she didn't do anything wrong in her life ever). brown eyes in p2 give her a... warmth which i find so unfit for her. all the kains need blue eyes (maybe not nina, I can see her having something else).

the kains Need their light eyes. p1 victor has his like... almost snake-green and i really like that. my Vision for him is a green-blue, not as green as his p1, but not as blue as his p2

KATERINA: p1 very pale blue, p2 some kind of... greenish dark green?

i wont her regardless but on that i do prefer her p2 eyes. the p1 blueness gives her (as mentioned above) a kind of coldness and distance i feel doesn't quite fit her Buried In The Dirt tendencies. i like that you can see a bit of blue a bit of green a bit of grey in her eyes... gives her a muddy, lost appearance. brings a certain darkness to her face that fits well with her story and behavior. to me

NOTKIN: dark brown p1, light hazel-ish p2

i'm giving him brown eyes idagf... mostly because there are other kids around that i think have hazel eyes. + it goes well with his hair

AGLAYA: bright red p1, brown-grey p2

i do love her bright red eyes i really do. gives her a vampiric appearance.. otherworldly... volturi swagger... at the same time, the ambiguousness of her p2 eyes do methinks compliment her characters. you get kinda... lost in trying to decipher her eye color... decipher her... her eyes change as she deciphers and understands you... wrow...

OTHER:

the twins Need their blue eyes. as i've said, blue eyes + dark hair is Freak Combination (except lawa) so they need that. i'm satisfied with what they got going on, with andreys Massive pupils and the white of peter's eyes pink with drunkeness. love it

burakh i think Should have green eyes. its just #earthy. or maybe a blue Less Stark than what he has... a blue morphing into a mossy green... you know what i mean... like an A30 or D10 in this... at the very least

dankovsky has brown eyes in both iterations and It's SO TRue QUEEN!!!! they look T40 in p1 & T15-20 in P2 and to me we can go Darker. so true queen.

#yass!!!!

[orangemoonxworks]

KINGDOM HEARTS: DIVERGE, VOL. 0 MARCH OF THE FOOLS, PART I — IV WRITTEN BY: Naude Lucem -------------------------------------------------

The Argentum Tower was the second tallest tower in the Seventh District – the tallest being the Vulpes Unionis Praetoria, the headquarters of the Vulpes Union. The Argentum Tower was known for its unique clockface which had thirteen numbers instead of twelve. Out of the seven clock towers in Daybreak, each district having its own, it was the only one whose clockface wasn’t functional. For some reason, its hands never moved – both were stuck thirteen. This led to many theories and conspiracies. Nevertheless, it was the perfect place for both the Union Cross students since the surrounding atmosphere was calm.

The balcony below the clockface was a spot known only to a few, and those few were currently there: Blaine, the Vulpes Union’s only Keyblade Master, a man in his early twenties whose black and grey hair fell past his shoulders. His face was mostly hidden by his tipped down fedora. All Keyblade Masters had to don their white and silver union robes but were free to wear whatever under them. Black was his style, so his clothing and fedora was just that.

Ephemer, the white-haired young man with the red scarf around his neck, was bent over the railing and gazing down below through a pair of binoculars. His short hair and scarf blew with the wind. “Whoa, I’m seeing loads of new faces down there.”

“Why are you wearing those ridiculous things?” said Lauriam, the other young man with short dark-pink hair, looking up from the small book in his hand. Unlike Ephemer who was dressed somewhat stylishly, his attire was similar to a bartender’s. He continued “And peeping at others no less.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m just checking out the new blood.” he replied, flapping his hand. “I guess Grandmaster Ava recruited more people this year.”

“You should be focused on the task at hand.” said Auden, the young woman sitting on the floor with her legs folded. Her stringy and curly sand-colored hair was short, and her eyes green-ish black. She was intensely monitoring a device. Its screen suddenly shut off and she slapped her thighs. “Damn it! Stop screwing up every five seconds!!”

“You’ve been tinkering with that since we got here.” Lauriam said, watching as she annoyedly rebooted the device. “Are you sure it’s not broken?”

“No, it’s completely fine. I’ve just been toying around with it for fun!” Auden sarcastically replied.

“What is that thing anyway?” Ephemer asked.

“It’s an Aether Meter. It scans an area within a set radius then measures and records the concentration of aether in the atmosphere.” Auden explained. “Normally, it’s used for detecting aetheric imbalances but due to the recent spike in shadow scourges, somebody requested it to be modified to detect darkness. And guess who got stuck with field testing this stupid crap? You guessed it.”

Ephemer looked at the device in awe. “Wait, can it really do that?”

“Apparently. You could use it as is to detect darkness just by observing the recorded aether balances, but that’s not reliable. Because darkness, or “nether”, has a unique energy signature, modifying these meters to detect it is a nightmare since the slightest exposure could corrupt your own aether. Luckily, the Mages at the Ars Magna Guild were crazy enough to make it work – or so they thought!”

“Cool. So, what’s wrong with it?”

“If I had the answer to that, I would’ve fixed it by now!”

Blaine groaned then spoke, slightly lifting his hat. “You’re too loud. Relax and take a break.”

“Shut it, you lazy bum!” Auden shot back. “Why don’t you get off your butt and help!?”

“Nope. That’s your expertise. Try turning it off and on. Works on most things.”

“It’s not a light switch! And if that was the case, it’d be working now given how many times it’s –”

A beep sounded off. The aether meter’s display began fading. “Damn it! It shut off again!”

Ephemer kneeled down and tapped the meter. “Maybe it’s out of juice.”

“Or it’s an old piece of crap that needs to be overhauled. Yeah, let’s go with that.”

“Why did you bring it anyway?” Blaine questioned. “Not like it’ll be any help if a scourge appears.”

“Gah! Were you even listening?! I told you earlier!” Auden snapped then groaned. “Somebody, probably one of the Grandmasters, wants the guardians to start using these in hopes that it’ll give them an edge when dealing with the shadow scourges. In theory, it makes sense – less destruction and casualties if they can get to a scourge-inflicted area faster. But in practice? Tch! Who knows. If it works, maybe.”

Lauriam closed his book then tucked it away in his back pocket. “Well, we’re here. If anything happens, we’ll know even without that meter. On a different note, I should visit my sister once we’re done. It’s been a few days since we’ve talked. I wonder if her classes are going well.”

Ephemer poked a finger into his cheek. “Oh, right. She’s studying to become a Mage, isn’t she?”

“Yes. It’s unfortunate – she’s much more adept with aethereal arts than I am. She would be a great addition to the Lux Unitas if she could only get through the physical hurdles. But my sister has never been a fighter. I feel that’s for the best. She’s a bit too soft-hearted for the battlefield.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that.” Ephemer backed into the balcony’s railing, then relaxed his hands behind his neck. “Being a Guardian isn’t just about the action. Everyone contributes in some way. I mean, without Mages we’d be toast.”

“Still, it’d ease my mind if she’d learn how to protect herself.”

“She’ll have to regardless.” Blaine spoke up. “Can’t become a Guardian or a Mage without knowing your way around a keyblade. She’ll need to train under a Master for a little while.”

“Huh? Really? Isn’t that just for the Lux Unitas?” Ephemer asked.

“If it was, then Auden wouldn’t be here.” Blaine answered.

Ephemer’s eyes widened as he turned to her. “Wait, you’re not a Guardian???”

“Not important.” Auden replied, brushing him off. The aether meter’s small screen slowly lit up and displayed a pixelated version of the Ars Magna Guild’s insignia. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Whew! Okay, here we go. It’s working again. Now I just need you to stay on long enough for me to get a reading. Expand the radius a bit, and…”

She smacked her palms together then giddily grinned. “Bingo! Now we just wait for the meter to measure and record the aetheric balance here.”

Still surprised about the Auden revelation, Ephemer continued “Huh. Didn’t know we could take apprentices out on missions.”

“If something serious happens, say a shadow scourge, then the students of Union Cross are obligated to act for the safety of themselves and others around them. They don’t have keyblades for nothing.”

“Isn’t that dangerous though? I mean, they’re only students. There’s but so much they can do.”

“Like it or not, that’s what you sign up for when you enroll in Union Cross.”

“Well, yeah but, still…”

“Yes!!!” Auden shouted out if the blue, startling Ephemer whose body instinctively jerked. “Er, I mean, crap! We’ve got something!”

The guys, including Blaine who reluctant peeled himself off the bench and dragged his feet, crowded around her and stared the meter’s screen. “Based on the aether concentration reading, there’s an aetheric imbalance about two kilometers from here which lines up with the darkness detection point. What’s worse is that the darkness gathering there is steadily growing by the sec – hold on, I know this area. It’s on the campus grounds.”

Lauriam backed away and stood up. “Then it’s a shadow scourge. We should get going then.”

Auden raised her hand. “Wait! That’s not all. It’s also picking up another detection point but…there’s something strange. The aether balance in this area is fine and there doesn’t appear to be darkness accumulating there, at least not for now. I wonder what set the meter’s detection off.”

“Hmm. I’ll go check it out.” Blaine said then stood up and removed his hat, then cast it away at the snap of his fingers. His gaze shifted to his subordinates. “You two get to the campus grounds. It’s likely to be engulfed in chaos by the time you get there, so do whatever you can. Once the area is evacuated, find the inception point and destroy the harbinger. That’s the only way to put a stop to the scourge.”

Ephemer summoned his keyblade then leapt onto the railing. He stood perfectly still even with the wind pushing against him. Looking over his shoulder at Blaine, he eagerly replied “Roger that, Master!”

Lauriam sighed. Summoning his own keyblade, he leapt into the air, briefly stepping on the balcony railing, then pushed himself off and vanished. He reappeared in a flash, stepping on a rooftop a short distance away, then vanished again. It was a technique called “quick step” that guardians used for fast traversal. Ephemer jumped from the balcony and followed after.

With them gone, Blaine spoke to Auden “You stay here. Let me know if anything changes.”

“Will do.” Auden lazily waved her hand, focusing on the aether meter. “You know, when you actually act like a Master, there’s a part of me that almost respects you. Almost.”

He lightly groaned. “I’ll pretend that was a compliment.”

Blaine placed his hand over his chest, then teleported away. -------------------------------------------------

[thisiselectric]

Ghirahim and Fi were Sheikah/siblings

Look at them dancing. Does it not give dramatic sibling energy?

This is just a headcanon I have (and love) that I wanted to put some maybe-possible-could-be evidence or clues behind. Honestly all of these points could just be coincidences and it's definitely not definitive or anything, but I wanted to put them in a post anyway. (Also assume that Fi and Ghirahim were people before becoming sword spirits, and weren't just created out of nothing.)

Hair colour: One obvious thing we can bring up is that Ghirahim's hair is white, which we now know is a Sheikah thing. Though some Sheikah in botw have more grey-ish hair than white, and Impa also has blonde hair in SS, so there probably is some slight variation to it. (Impa could also maybe be half-Sheikah like Grante(son) from botw.)

(This is easily refutable by saying the Sheikah probably don't have a monopoly on white hair, but good thing this post is not at all based on hard evidence.) Anyway his hair is white that's all I have.

Fashion: in SS, people of the same "area" wear similar clothes: for example, several Skyloft npcs wear the same sort of cape over their shoulders. Most of these capes are almost the exact same of the same length and style, but different colours. Basically people that live close together obviously have the same fashion or similar clothing.

Now, three other characters (who are from the same era) wear longer capes: Ghirahim, Fi and Impa. What's especially interesting is the similarity between Impa's and Fi's capes, both covering one or two arms and being really long.

This might technically be evidence that they're from the same area/group/tribe etc, as their fashion sense is similar. And since Impa is Sheikah, that would make them all Sheikah. (The capes don't look alike like Skyloft capes do, but maybe it's because they're main characters and they're all specialTM, or it means absolutely nothing.)

The earring: One thing about Ghirahim's design stands out. Normally, Ghirahim wears a red cape and white bodysuit. Then a single blue diamond-shaped earring. It's a bit odd, isn't it? The villain's colour schemes/designs are mostly made up of white, black and red. (Even Demise is just black and red.) And blue specifically is associated with one other character.

Does he wear it in memory of Fi? She claims to not know who he is at all (which in general is a bit weird since they're from the same era) but maybe he does remember her. (He also wears purple eyeshadow, which is another colour associated with Fi, but that seems less significant to me.)

More similarities: in Ghirahim's more "sword spirit" form, his hair takes on an incredibly similar shape to Fi's. It's almost her hair but mirrored and slightly shorter. It makes me wonder, if Fi has a "human form," would her hair be like Ghirahim's? Longer, and maybe covering her right eye?

I mostly just like the angst of them being mirrors of each other: siblings, or maybe even twins, being on opposite sides of Hylia's and Demise's war, and meeting the same fate. Both became weapons for what they believed in.

You could headcanon Fi as the younger sibling (the devs said in Hyrule Historia that she's supposed to look around 13-14 and Ghirahim does definitely not look that age). Unless! You wanna say that Fi turned into a sword spirit first, and Ghirahim many years later. Maybe Demise needed some practice and failed his first few attempts. (What a loser.) (Also imagine becoming a weapon in a war at 14. Maybe she was the only one that volunteered because she was too young to fully understand the consequences. Hylia would also be a loser for that one.)

Hope u enjoyed this small post!! Do whatever you want with all this information <3

[teejaysnow]

Welcome to Stockholm, expect grey skies and cold weather - but as long as you dress up warm, you’ll probably still have a nice time.

I’d recommend either a walk along Monteliusgatan or Fjällgatan (or both) for a very pretty view of Stockholm. (And you’ll get some nice, older houses thrown in there too, which is very pretty as well.)

I second a trip to Fotografiska while you’re in the neighbourhood, it’s one of my favourite museums - and, depending on your budget, a visit to the restaurant will give you another nice (and a lot less windy…) view of Stockholm if you can get your hands on a window table.

Walking aimlessly around the Old Town is great. Västerlånggatan is the touristy street with all the shops that sells just about everything you can think of that you can put moose or a swedish flag on, but the rest of it is pretty nice. (Also, Västerlånggatan is home to the best book store in Stockholm, Scifibokhandeln, just saying.) Also also, Stortorget is a classic stop with its colourful houses. And both Kaffekoppen and Chokladkoppen are great places for a fika, but they’re usually very crowded.

I always recommend taking one of the ferries through the archipelago - Vaxholm is just about an hour away and it’s a very nice trip - but if you don’t have much time you can always jump on the ferry that goes from the Old Town to Djurgården, it’s just a ten minute trip or so, but still pretty. And if you have a SL travel card you can use that.

And yeah, Djurgården is another must, I guess. More so in the summer when Gröna Lund (the amusement park) is open, but it’s still worth it during winter. If you’re into Abba at all, there’s an Abba museum that’s really good. You have the Vasa museum (that I absolutely loathe [it’s been 400 years since the bloody thing sank, they must have made their money back by now] but everyone else seems to love). And you have Skansen, which… well, there’s a reason why it’s one of the top attractions year after year. Lots of old Swedish buildings as well as a zoo light with some nordic animals standing around looking bored (although I’ve never seen either otters nor wolverines in all of my times of visiting, so… 🤷🏻‍♀️🙄)

You can walk back towards the city centre if your feet aren’t complaining too much by now, or you can take the tram. Strandvägen is pretty nice if you stick to the water (there’s a lot of traffic otherwise) and the houses on the other side of the street are pretty impressive. (Yeah, you don’t want to know what those flats cost 😬😬) You’ll reach Norrmalmstorg and can either take a right into Biblioteksgatan where a lot of the more expensive brand stores are, or you can continue on to Kungsträdgården - which is a lot nicer in the summer, but the ice skating rink is pretty cool (and you can always rent skates if you feel like taking a turn). If you continue past Kungsan, you’ll find NK on your right (another expensive-ish brand store) and a bit furter on, Gallerian on your left. Think it was Stockholm’s first indoor mall, but these days mostly home to your cheaper brands like H&M and Vero Moda and nothing special to see. Unless you’re into ikea, because there is now an ikea store in there which is pretty handy. Anyway, if you continue past Gallerian you’ll end up at Sergels Torg, which is the rather iconic black and white square that I guess is pretty much the centre of Stockholm. From there you can see Åhléns, which is a store with a mixture of cheap and expensive brands, and you can take a right into Drottninggatan which is the shopping street for less expensive brands (we’re once more talking brands like H&M and Zara. If you walk down Drottninggatan, you’ll get to the PUB houses (stands for Paul Urbanus Bergström if I recall correctly) and if you take a left there you’re on Gamla Brogatan where you’ll find some rather… eclectic shops (less brand, more punk) and if you take a right you’ll end up at Hötorget where you can buy veggies and flowers everyday except sundays when there’s a bit of a flea market going on. You can then finish off by taking a right and walking down Kungsgatan to Stureplan - which is a pretty boring walk tbh, but after that you’ve pretty much seen most of Stockholm.

Anyway, if there’s something more specific any Stockholm travellers are interested in, just ask - I might either know myself or I can try checking with friends.

Hiii I’m going to Stockholm on Friday and wondered if you have any tips for the trip? Tack!!

How nice!

I don't live in Stockholm so I'm not an expert but I always think Gamla Stan is a nice visit and if you want the Royal Palace. I would honestly just walk around there in the narrow streets and alleyways. Especially if the weather is nice.

The Royal palace also have some exhibitions if you are interested. You can find more information here

There's also Fotografiska museet if you like photography. It's a photography museeum and they usually have a few photographers featured at once. I love to visit l. Here's some more information There’s an entry fee though.

If you like shopping there are alot of options. I would check out drottninggatan. Åhlens city and NK but once again just walking around is very nice.

There is also Mall of Scandinavia if you only want to go shopping but it's not something I recommend really. It's a mall, it's big by Swedish standards but that's it.

I think you can get around with walking alot but of course that does take some time and effort but it's definitely possible depending on where you live. Last time I was there I walked to gamla Stan and the royal palace and back again with no problems.

I would make sure to make time for a traditional Swedish fika at a Café. That's an absolute must and you are right in time for our "Semmel" season

Semla is a traditional Swedish pastry that was traditionally eaten before the long fasting but now we eat them just for fun.

The traditional one is a wheat bun flavoured with cardamom filled with almond paste and whipped cream.

Every café will have them, traditional versions and more new conceptual versions like vanilla semla (no almond paste) chocolate, licorice, croissant, semmel wrap etc.

Or you can always go for a cinnamon bun or a danish pastry or anything really.

There's also a the classic princess cake which is a sponge cake with jam, vanilla custard and cream with a lid of marsipan.

I cannont recommend dammsugare though, which is a small pastry that tastes like arrack with marsipan on top. I can't get behind it but is popular and if you like arrack you might like it.

I would avoid chains for this so stay out of espresso house.

As for food that are many many options, everything from McDonald's and other fast food chains like Max (Swedish version of McDonald's basically) to fancier options. It all depends on what you are in the mood for. Some placed demands reservations fsr in advance but these places are usually quite hyped and expensive so not something I would look for on a trip.

If you have any more questions don't hesitate to ask. I'm always happy to help! And any swede is welcome to put in their own recommendations.

[roccinan]

okay but what if in Berlin2023 Andrés has a Diego-from-Gran-hotel style beard? just a thought that came to my mind seeing Pedro's new pics from that lcdp event lol.

NOOOOOO ANON DO NOT SPEAK THAT INTO EXISTENCE

(LOL I think Pedro's beard is for another role in something different, thankfully!)

Berlin 2023 can somehow be the best show on Earth, but I am still giving it 0/0 stars if the Diego (tm) beard makes a resurgence asdasdf

[0-parasol-0]

It’s time to do what I do best and overthink CRK lore for a random thought I had ( ft. Me being mad that Devsis is never consistent with any of their lore )

okay so right off the bat this is going to be mostly about Espresso because I saw a post about him ( By @/biscuit-powerwalk ) and now I am. Thinking

so the eye motifs are incredibly intriguing to me and I like the latter idea of “Academy/Espresso Eye motifs being connected to an idea of knowing more than one should/having “forbidden” knowledge of this world” especially considering the fact we know very little about Espresso‘s backstory compared to other cookies

like, Madeleine comes from a royal-ish family and was given his sword and shield by the Divine when he became Knight commander, White Lily is a childhood friend of Pure Vanilla and studied magic alongside him, Espresso,,,,, hails from the republic. Yes, he’s heavily theorized to come from the coffee tribe, but there’s no canon confirmation of that (… yet) and all we know about him is accomplishments from when he was already an adult.

so that got me thinking about the dark rifts and about what if Espresso was connected to them in some larger way, combined with the fact he absolutely loathes light magic ( everyone jokes about Espresso being mean in the new event, but he’s actually pretty reasonable if you don’t bring up anything related to light magic. Yes, he didn’t know who Eclair was, but he’s also sleep deprived and busy 24/7. And even then, he was still polite when asking Eclair to lend him their books for his research. )

long story short this train of thought led me to the funky idea of Espresso being related in some way to an all-knowing ancient being. Perhaps it’s in some way connected to his brand of coffee magic? Since Latte is also a type of coffee, but maybe due to Lattes being made with milk it’s not there? Or maybe it’s specific to Espresso specifically.

anyways maybe said ancient being was connected to an all-knowing power of lands beyond, and it could see into other realities using rifts. And the rifts and Espresso’s coffee magic are connected in some way to dark magic ( and maybe dark moon magic in some way since it’s been shown to be able to open some kind of rift/portal )? And by dark I don’t mean “evil”, it’s just the antithesis to light magic in some way. ( and light magic isn’t necessarily “good” either, in my eyes. )

and that’s why Espresso hates light magic with a passion so much, in his very core it’s his antithesis. It’s dubious in my mind whether he’d actually know he’s related to this ancient being but even if he wasn’t like I imagine he is he’d still have an inherent understanding of the rifts and such because of the relation. It’s also the reason his other eye is never shown, it’s because it has some connection to the eye motifs/looks visually different from the other ( and it’s not just a case of not showing the other eye, Licorice also has an eye covered, yet we see his other one. Meanwhile Espresso’s almost always has one eye covered even if Devsis occasionally flips around his hairstyle )

Espresso isn’t evil because the powers of this all-knowing being just happen to coincide with the more “frowned upon” parts of magic. He’s still a good person and he’s firmly on the side of good now even if the all-knowing being was incredibly morally grey ( since its pursuit of knowledge was absolute even if the methods were less then morally “good” )

and theoretically if we assume my rambling thoughts to be canon then it would lead to some very interesting developments in plot. Since even in canon so far Espresso has had some ties that other cookies don’t. In the newest event, and this is a reach so take it with a grain of salt, he says even in his wildest calculations he’s never expected so many rifts. While this could be excused off as Espresso just being cautious and such I find it odd that he was able to calculate their appearance in the first place since other cookies seem to have very little knowledge of these rifts at all, much less being able to predict their appearance. I could just be overthinking this but there are a lot of coincidences that line up.

And we don’t even know what’s forming the rifts yet. The most likely explanation is Dark Echantress but it also doesn’t feel like something she’d do. In addition, in her boss fight, when the cake witch summons a monster she doesn’t use an eye circle, unlike the Red Velvet Dragon ( which comes from the rifts. ). So in my opinion it’s not DE causing this, it’s some overarching greater force of power.

TL;DR all in all I do think Espresso has a connection/knowledge of stuff most cookies don’t, but whether Devsis expands on that and his hatred of light magic anytime soon vs dropping very minor hints between each update is anyone’s guess. I would say it might not even be canon but things line up a little bit too much for it to just be a coincidence ( they could do that but it would just be wasted potential ). Either way I hope we get some more lore about him sooner rather than later

[thedarkrose17]

I wanted to try and expand Sol and asked a fellow 15 fan for some questions they found and was using to figure out their 14 characters

Under the cut cause it's long very long

1. How do they present themselves to others?

I like to think Sol's presents himself as a confident but dumb guy. Someone who'll dive headfirst into stuff. Pure of heart dumb of ass pretty much. Sometimes though may come off as someone who's kind of very much done with somethings or people. Depends on if he likes them

2. Do they like animals?

Man's a cat boy

He does. A lot of his minions/pets? ish are animals.

3. How do they dress?

His outfits vary a lot. Usually he likes to glam horns on his head but outfits tend to change a lot from cropped tops, to puffy jackets, v cut jackets. He favours things dyed black though

Currently it's like this until next expansion pack but he's now wearing a white sweet pea necklace too

4. How many languages do they know?

One. Pretty much

5. How big is their family?

I'm unsure how many. I'm torn between 2 or 3 siblings. He also has a father from the sun seeker tribe and a mother from the moon tribe I'm unsure on names sadly

I feel like the siblings maybe named after moons or planets

6. What is their purpose in the story?

His purpose basically is to be the hero, save the world, people and at times explore new places

7. Do they know how to fight?

Yep :) he's trying to main two different classes but he's tried a few others.

He mainly sticks as the reaper class but he does switch to the dancer class too at times

8. What is their back story?

His backstory is he left his moon tribe when he turned into an adult because he had a thirst for adventure. He wanted to gain more power so he could help people in need. Plus he wanted to see what the world was like outside of the tribe

9. Why is their name, their name?

Solis Oriole. Solis coming from Sol which is latin for sun and Oriole meaning golden.

He used to be Octavia so eighth sun but I didn't want him to be tied to a show I wasn't crazy about 😅

10. Do they have any nick names?

I call him Sol for short. I like to think some of his friends do too but I feel some are still very formal with his name

11. Do they have a romantic interest?

Ori Vesper (future husband who I'm trying to figure out what kind of person he is)

12. How do they cope with struggles?

He tends to keep them to himself and tries to deal with them solo. It's hard sometimes though

13. Do they have anyone they can lean on?

His friends/co workers, spouse

14. How do they react to someone dying?

He goes quiet, grits his teeth and tries his hardest not to cry in front of others he's supposed to be strong for everyone. He's unfortunately seen a lot of death and sadly he's gotten used to it. Doesn't make it hurt less though

15. Can you name 5 personality traits they have?

-witty

- kind

- loyal

- stupid (just peak himbo truly)

-impulsive/foolhardy (he's jumped into battles without thinking/without support)

16. How did they become a character?

I forget how I found the game but I just prefer making non human characters in fantasy games. So I just maybe spent an hour or more trying to make him/exploring options

Sorry I dunno fully how to answer this 😅

17. Do they get along with others?

Mostly but there's some people he's like 😒 over

18. What flaws do they have?

He's not very smart and sometimes rushes into things without thinking. Also just bottles things up and thinks he can handle struggles solo

Unsure if it's a flaw but he tends to put others before himself. If he died in battle or got gravely injured which for the latter he has been he'd be happy as long as he saved people/no one else suffered

19. How do they influence the story?

Basically he's like a main character so he tends to influence it a lot whenever he defeats someone bad or saves people /the world

20. What do they look like?

Basically a male miqo with fangs, red eyes, black and grey hair like the picture above. He used to have yellow eyes like his mother but I hc making a deal with a voidscent changed his eyes to red

21. What are their hobbies?

He really enjoys fishing and working on his island farm, tending to his crops and animals, buying new clothes for glamours

22. What are their ticks?

If I'm answering right

The main one is random ear flicks he just does it sometimes without realising or when he's happy

Zoomies for one too

Also just randomly knocking shit off/over

Just does some stuff cats do

23. Do they like children?

He works with/maybe lowkey adopted two. One would kill him if she heard him say that. Alphi and Ali are his family now sorry

He adores them. He wants the world to be a safe haven for them

24. How do they react to being around wild animals?

He's been around a fair few for a while. He's unphased by them. Hell he has a fair few on his farm

25. If they were given the task to prank someone, who would it be, what would they do, and would the prank work?

He knows better not to prank as some would probably kick his arse plus he'd be pretty hopeless with pranks

26. Do they have any survival skills?

Surprisingly yes. He knows fishing so he could fall back on that if he needed to. He's learned to make a fire and has some basic cooking skills.

He might be able to make a shelter for himself too nothing amazing but enough to protect him

27. Are they more book smart or street smart?

Street smart. He doesn't read too often

28. How do they get out of a difficult situation?

Usually he'd fight his way out of it

29. Do they use their body, mind, personality or force to get what they want?

None? He puts others wants before his own

I guess maybe personality if it came to it

30. What music do they enjoy?

He doesn't have a favourite but he enjoys all sorts whatever he hears bards in the square playing really

31. How do they overcome obstacles?

By trying to fight them whether it be physically or mentally

Fighting is the main thing he knows. His go to so to speak

32. When faced with a difficult decision do they get stronger or break?

Stronger

33. Do they have any special powers?

He's got the powers of a voidscent/demon I guess on his side. Who can take him over and give him more power

34. How do they change throughout the story?

He goes from being a wide eyed clueless adventurer to a somewhat maybe battle hardened hero who's dealt with a lot of death and trauma

35. Do they have any friends? If so, are they close knit?

The main scions, Sol's pretty close to. Some he sees like family like Alphi and Ali. And some like G'raha and Estinien he sees as best friends/maybe has a crush on them I'm unsure still

36. How is their family life?

It's pretty good, healthy. He sends letters to his family whenever he can and visits when he's free

37. Are they likable?

Very likable

38. Are they the hero, or anti-hero?

Hero

39. Do they make questionable choices?

Sometimes. By questionable if it's stupid then yes. Man said he'd drink an entire lake to find something (he would have)

40. How do they become who they are?

Through experience, trauma, friendships and time

If this is the right answer to this 😅

41. How was their childhood?

Fairly chill and normal pretty much. Uneventful? I guess nothing bad really happened. Maybe sheltered due to him growing up mostly surrounded by miqos and no other races

42. Are they close with anyone who is going to screw them over?

Not really

43.How do they adapt to different situations? Do they adapt at all?

Surprisingly fairly quickly. He just focuses on the task at hand

44. How do they speak? Examples - Are they soft spoken, hot heated, vulgar

Fairly casually maybe swears a lot

45. Are they opposed to violence?

Nope

46. When is their birthday?

25th sun of the 5th umbral moon or

25th of October (may have picked it cause a character I like has that birthday)

47. Are they quick to judge?

No he tries not to be

48. Do they have anything they are trying to hide from others?

Emotions, trauma

49. Do they act different around different people?

Yes he's more casual around friends and more >:( around people he dislikes

50.Do they enjoy the arts?

He likes dancing pretty much

51. Do they like science?

He's not very smart but he's studied some alchemy. Didn't stick with it

52. Are they more emotional or logical?

Emotional maybe

53. How do they deal with their emotions?

He tries to bottle stuff up until he's alone then the floodgates open

54. How do they cope with sadness?

He's got depression. He's experienced a lot of sadness but he just powers through it. I feel like he just goes silent sometimes

55. What is something they care about?

Family, friends, where he lives, fishing

56. Would they die for anyone/anything?

100%

57. What do they do when they are happy?

Flicks his ears, grins showing off his fangs

Probably goofs around with his powers, dances

58. How would they come across to other characters? Examples- messy, lazy, childish, caring ect.

Caring probably at points childish/dorky too. A disaster around pretty men

Put him in a room with a pretty man he'll either try to be smooth and flirt or turn bright red and stutter no inbetween. (100% was like this with his hubbie)

59. Do they have a phrase they use over and over?

Not really

60. In a crowed room are they in the corners, sides, or in the middle?

Sides. He's assessing people. Also probably reluctant to sit at a table with a drink cause last time he did someone poisoned his drink and that still traumatises him to this day

61. Are they comfortable being in a crowed room?

He's somewhat introverted so not always

62. How do they relax?

Fishing or listening music or just go to his farm island

63. Have they ever harmed anyone and regretted it? Verbally or physically?

No

64. Do they like to dance?

Very much so

65. How do they get around their environment? Examples - horses, bike, vehicle

Mostly chocobo, car sometimes creatures/other animals

66. What is their pet peeve(s)?

Things that bug him I think loud noises. I feel like since he's miqo and their cat people he has sensitive ears and loud noises bother him

Probably loosing bait when fishing too

And just a certain couple of ascians and a certain prince Zenos

67. Do they have a disability?

No

68. How do they react to getting flowers?

He'd be flattered and maybe turn all blushy and stutter if they're from a cute man/his hubbie

69. Would they ever wear a flower crown?

He has :)

70. Do they like themselves?

He's pretty ok with himself

71. Who do they dislike?

Zenos, Ascians, at one point the twins dad

There's a list

72. What is their motto?

He doesn't really have one

73. Do they have any markings on their body?

He has facial tattoos that look like stripes but no scars

74. Have they ever been abused?

No

75. What is their biggest fear?

Corruption, loosing all his friends and loved ones, failure, not being good enough

76. What are their goals?

Save people pretty much, protect his loved ones and friends

77. How do they go about achieving their goals?

By keeping strong so he can save and protect others

78. Do they have a fight or flight response?

Fight

79. Is there someone in their life that they care about more than themselves?

A fair few people mostly the scions and his family

80. How would they fair in zombie apocalypse?

He'd do pretty well his weapon is long and he can warp plus has voidscent to help him

81. Do they have any tattoos? If so, are they significant?

Facial ones. Not really they just look like tiger stripes

Also currently red cherry blossom branch running up his arm to his neck (in a perfect world I could keep the tattoo on him forever T-T)

82. Are they good at mental math?

Nope rather hopeless

83. Do they get along with others?

He mostly does unless they're trying to hurt people or hinder him

84 Are they lazy?

No

85. Are they self motivated?

Yes

86. How do they cope with anger?

He tends to focus it in battle sometimes but mostly he's fairly good at coping with it

87. Have they ever been in a situation where they were helpless?

Yes at points he has been but managed to pull through

88. Are they organized or messy?

Both ish. His inventory can be a mess and chocobo saddles but his apartment is organised ish

89. Can they remember a lot of information at once?

He tries to

90. What is their occupation?

Reaper when he's doing hero stuff and fisherman when he's off duty

91. Do other characters respect your OC, if so, is it out of fear? Or do they respect your OC because they like them?

Others tend to respect him cause they like him

92. If they were given minutes to live, what would they do? Who would they want to see and say?

If he couldn't reach his family, he'd want to see the scions

He'd probably try to tell them how much he's enjoyed fighting alongside them and being their friend

Probably would cry too which yeah rarely does around others if many people

93. How do they deal with stress?

Focusses it into a hobby when he gets the chance to

94. Do they have a more submissive or dominate personality type?

You'd think the latter but he's more submissive just can act dominate at times

95. Do they have a pet?

Many pets 😅 so many

96. Do they have a stash of weapons?

He has a couple of scythes and some chakrams too

97. Where do they live? Who do they live with?

He lives in the housing area in Ul'dah called the The Goblet. In an apartment. At some point I like to imagine he gets a house with Ori but for now they're crammed in an apartment room

98. How do they calm themselves down?

Deep breathing exercises, going for rides

99. Are they co-dependent?

No he prefers his own company

100. Are they a day, or night person?

100% night owl

[valentine-writes]

heeeeeey thereee:]] i was just wondering on what blaise (ur oc) looks like:D apologies if you already posted one about that question!! im new to ur blog ehehe ( T_T)＼(^-^ )

introduction to blaise !

↳ ft. my genshin oc, blaise

「 genshin oc mini character sheet 」

author's note: you know, i've never actually introduced blaise-- or any of my other genshin ocs for that matter- i'll put a smaller and more compact version of his character file below!! ୧( “̮ )୨✧ credits to @//queenbee 's character maker on picrew- which i used 2 make these pics of blaise. i do have drawings hwjwhdjd but um... Bad. i don't like them (இ﹏இ`｡) </3 ANYWAYS!! blaise character file below the cut + his design!! (his outfit is a lot different and due to limited options i settled for a more casual look in the picrews of him) ALSO!!!! WELCOME 2 MY BLOG /ᐠ. ��.ᐟ\ !!

name: blaise (last name pending </3 i can't decide)

pronouns: he/him

gender: male

age: adult (tall model)

likes: chicken mushroom skewers, sunny days, napping in random safe/confined spaces, doing his hair, apple cider, tight fitting clothing, people who feel like a challenge to befriend, adventuring (exploring different places in teyvat specifically, though treasure finding is quite the bonus to him), treating his friends out to drinks or lunch, eccentric people, fashionable clothing, joking around (even when it's really not time to), pranking others, wintertime, snow, taking risks even if they may not end well

dislikes: reading long books (can never pay attention to them for long), getting lectured, tense situations (mostly the ones he gets himself into- any problems he created that escalate too far, that's when he runs away), areas that are TOO quiet, his parents, fried eggs, springtime, people who take themselves too seriously, being forced out of a lie, deep conversations (when he's not ready), extremely strong alcohol (he will drink, but he likes to keep it more classy rather than just drinking to get drunk)

personality: reckless with situations and runs away when it gets bad, playful, free spirited, carefree, dishonest, secretive, lighthearted, distrustful, impulsive, has a hard time being vulnerable, straightforwards, opinionated, (can be) hot tempered, loyal, quick witted, street smart (not book smart </3)

habits/quirks: lying (even when it isn't necessary), rubbing the back of his neck, stretching his arms (idle animation), yawning dramatically when bored, checking behind him (idle animation), adjusting his gloves (idle animation), puffing the fur hood of his jacket, checking his nails, shaking out his hair

vision and weapon: anemo polearm (i like to think that at one point he used a catalyst, but he found that he frequently lost control and was just incredibly destructive- so polearm it was)

voice lines:

⁺ "breaktime already? great." (idle line)

⁺ "eh.. i've been colder." (dragonspine) (he's clearly unimpressed by the weather-)

⁺ "i just can't stand fried eggs. i'll eat them if necessary... but i just- can't get over the smell." (least favorite food)

⁺ "chicken mushroom skewers are never the wrong option when it comes to food. care for a bite?" (favorite food)

⁺ "steady now- if you slip, i might not be able to catch you in time." (when walking on ice)

⁺ "now... how are we gonna divide the between ourselves?" (when opening a chest)

⁺ "hey! i was trying to find something special for you all day and figured- why don't i just let you choose what you want for the day? c'mon! we'll travel the entirety of teyvat if we gotta- i'll pay for expenses along the way. would that be a fun birthday gift?" (birthday)

notes about appearance:

⁺ small freckles, faded because he hasn't been in direct sun for a while

⁺ hair is always half tied up, the black layer in a short ponytail, revealing the white underneath

⁺ grey-ish olive eye colour (similar to noelle's, just less saturated- the picrew eye colour isn't the most accurate to this description akwjekd)

⁺ tans easily, gets sunburnt just as much (gets freckles in the sun too becuz aw. i think itz kyute ´͈ ᵕ `͈ )

⁺ usually has small dark circles under his eyes due to lack of sleep (his random naps Do Not help)

notes about clothing:

⁺ has black fingerless gloves with a crescent moon shaped cut out on the back of the hands, and metal eyelets lining the wrists

⁺ necklaces were a personal choice of his, the crystal is something that he says "keeps him close to home" even if he ran from it a few years ago

⁺ boots make him about two inches taller (with boots 5'11, without 5'9)

headcanons:

⁺ he was a bit of a naughty child, and even now, retains some of his mischief in the form of his small pranks. he didn't have a great reputation with others when he was younger and was basically the "don't turn your back on them or they'll raise hell" kind of child. he was also pretty naturally rebellious, unfortunately leading to a lot of times where he had to worm his way out of trouble

⁺ lisa loves doing his hair and in return, blaise probably runs errands for her. he always comes back with more things than she requested, but he's helpful nonetheless

⁺ in a modern au, would definitely be the person to spontaneously show up at his friends houses. sometimes he'll show up to visit lisa and be all like "suprise :D"

and it's like. three in the morning.

⁺ can never decide on what to wear so he ends up in a messy clash of the different styles he was thinking of that morning

⁺ voice claim is marshall lee from adventure time!

⁺ a little overprotective over his friends and loved ones- it's never really expected because he seems so laid back most of the time

⁺ written under "character story 2" for him titled "name meaning": his name, blaise, means stutter- which is very ironic for him. despite being named such, blaise is very good at smooth talking. not to mentions his habit of lying- he barely even blinks when telling a complete lie. never stammering or hesitating to make something up in a matter of seconds if he feels the need to, without flinching or thinking beforehand, his lies never fail to fool even the most suspicious of people.

[mypoisonedvine]

Love, Theoretically | Sebastian Stan x reader (Chapter 3)

(Chapter 1) (Chapter 2)

series summary: having lost your husband, sister, and best friend all to the same extramarital affair, you ran away to a secluded villa in the Hungarian countryside to write and get a little time away from the life you’d left behind.  you were only looking for peace and perhaps some inspiration for your novel, but instead you found an unlikely connection with the immigrant repairman– even though the two of you don’t speak the same language.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: a brief and half-assed description of theoretical male masturbation.  that’s it.  lol.

moodboard by @evnscvll​, if you’re not following her what are you doing with your life???

As the afternoon was just starting to wind down into the evening, you went for a stroll along the side of the lake; it was your new daily routine in this place, and you’d done it every afternoon for the past several days.  You found yourself looking for Sebastian outside, and being oddly disappointed when he was nowhere to be found.  It took you a bit to appreciate that the strange feelings and behaviors you were exhibiting were a crush.  You hadn’t had one in so long, not since you’d met your husband, that you almost forgot what it was like.  This one felt particularly childish, exceptionally misguided, as you knew so little about the man.  What was it that made you want to be around him anyways?  There were plenty of guys you’d met since getting married that were, on paper, worthy of a crush.  Successful, kind, good-looking... who knows, maybe if you’d been lonely and desperate and saw one of them hammering nails shirtless in the sun, you’d have been in the same predicament you are now.

And that was exactly why you needed to get your mind off this guy ASAP.  You were just projecting your loss onto him.  You’d been feeling neglected and unattractive because of everything that had happened with your husband and he had been kind to you.  And helpful.  And handy in a way your husband had never been.  And so devastatingly hot.  

He must know, right? you thought to yourself as you took in the scenery, just barely making out grey-ish shadows of mountains in the distance.  He must know that he looks like that, and exactly the effect he has on women.

...And a decent portion of men, probably.

The idea of him being overwhelmed with attention of that nature made you feel slightly jealous.  He was probably the exact kind of person you weren’t in high school: a heartbreaker.  Yes, this was the narrative you needed to keep yourself from falling any further into this crush; you two were sworn natural enemies-- him the heartbreaker, you the heartbroken.  A guy like him probably didn’t even give a girl like you the time of day.

Except, he had.  He’d been friendly and attentive.  Maybe he works for tips or something?  Why else would he be giving you any of his energy?

No, that was specifically not the line of thinking you needed at the moment.  Does he think about me when I’m not around?  Could he think of me as much as I think of him? you found yourself wondering anyways.

Either way, he could never beat me at overthinking, you smiled to yourself.  I always win at that one.  

You’d almost spent too much time outside; it was nearly too dark to see by the time you made it back to the cottage.  Clearly the bustling city had trained you to stay up late, but out here, you had no recourse if the sun set while you were outside without a flashlight.  

It was so late, in fact, that Sebastian was nowhere to be found when you passed through the living room— and since he was certainly not working outside with no light to use, you figured he’d gone to bed.  By now you knew where his room was, but you’d never seen it.  Not that you wanted to.  It was none of your business.

Making your way up the stairs, you tried to avoid the creakiest spots in case he was asleep.  It wasn’t that late though, he was probably just… doing whatever people do before bed when they don’t have a television.  Reading a book, maybe?  

You shook your head to no one in particular.  You shouldn’t be thinking about him so much.  God, having a crush was exhausting.

Oh god, what if he, you know… took care of himself, before bed?  It’s a fun way to end the day and wear yourself out for sleep, certainly.  You felt your face turning hot just imagining him in such a compromising position.  You didn’t even mean to imagine it, it just sort of happened.  Maybe right now, just as you were struggling to keep quiet on this rickety old staircase, he was trying to keep quiet as he stroked his cock, the muscles in his arm flexing with each movement, that perfect bottom lip caught between his surprisingly white teeth.  

Probably not.  But it was a nice thought.  

Just as you stepped into your room and shut the door behind you, you thought you saw something in the corner of your eye.  Turning to look, you realized that there was a rat running across the floor.  With an embarrassingly girlish scream, you ran and jumped on your bed, trying to see where it went while keeping elevated; you know, just in case it tried to run up your leg like in a cartoon or something.

Creaking outside alerted you that someone was running up the stairs.  Your door flew open to reveal Sebastian, wearing only pyjama trousers and a very concerned facial expression.

"Este totul în regulă?"

"There's a rat!" you screeched.

"Ce?" he asked with a furrowed brow of confusion.

You tried to explain, but how could you?  Pointing to where you saw it last, it was gone, so you turned back-- only to see it running towards him!  Screaming again, you pointed to the rodent barreling towards his feet and, finally, he understood.

In fact, he understood your situation better than you realized he would, so much so that he jumped up on the bed with you with a blood-curdling scream of his own.

"Şobolan!" he yelped, and you weren't sure there was room on this bed for two people afraid of rats but here you were anyway.

You both watched it scurry into a corner, and he seemed to relax a little.

"What are we going to do?"

"Stai așa," he said as he raised a finger as if to indicate 'wait', "ma voi intoarce."

He lept from the bed straight to the open doorway and dashed down the stairs.  You figured he might come back with a broom or jar, so you were beyond surprised to see him come back with an enormous shotgun, quickly pumping it and bracing the stock against his shoulder.

"Unde este?" he asked quickly, closing one eye to look over the sights.

You nearly screamed your protest.  "Jesus, Sebastian!  Don't shoot it!"

“Ce vrei sa fac?!” he squawked in reply.

“I don’t know!” you replied.  “Just put the gun down!”

He looked a little disappointed but lowered the barrel.

Hearing a squeak and a scurry from the corner of the room, you jumped off of your bed and found yourself hiding behind Sebastian.

“Nu sunt la fel de curajoasă pe cât crezi,” he said as he turned back to look at you.

“I can’t sleep here,” you admitted with a sigh.  “We can set a trap in the morning, or hope it escapes on it’s own…” you trailed off, talking mostly to yourself as you made your way back downstairs.  Sebastian shut the door quickly with a shudder before following behind you.

You pulled a blanket off of the loveseat as you passed through the living room, dragging it with you to the couch.

“Nu te pot lăsa să dormi pe canapea!” he protested when you laid down and covered yourself with it— after leaning the gun against a wall, thank god.  You wondered where it was normally kept for him to have grabbed it so fast.

“I can’t sleep in my room,” you explained. 

“Poți să dormi în patul meu,” he announced, pointing down the hall.  

“What?”

“Poți să,” he repeated slower, pointing to you, “dormi,” he laid his face on his hands and feigned sleep for a moment, “în patul meu,” he pointed to the hall again.

“There’s another bedroom down the hall?” you asked as you sat up a little, not having realized there was a third bedroom.

“Da,” he nodded with a smile.

You got up, the blanket still wrapped over your shoulders, and followed him to the room down the hall and around the corner.

As he opened the door, you smiled but sighed as you realized you couldn’t sleep in here.  The bed was still disturbed from where he’d jumped out of it; there was a picture in a frame by the bed.

“Sebastian, I’m not going to steal your room just because I’m afraid of a probably-harmless rat,” you sighed.  “I’ll take the couch—”

You turned to walk back into the living room but his arm across the doorway stopped you.

“Te rog ia-mi patul și voi dormi pe canapea,” he instructed, motioning away from his chest towards the living room to, apparently, indicate he would sleep on the couch in your place.  

“I can’t let you—”

He gently grabbed your wrist, getting your attention.

“Nu e nicio problemă,” he soothed.  “Noapte bună!”

He basically just shoved you into the room after that, shutting the door behind you.  You supposed it was the best option, but you still felt a little guilty that he was being kicked out of his own bed.

You turned and looked at the very bed in question.  Realizing you should change the sheets, you began to search the room for a linen closet or chest that might have a spare set.

You weren’t intending to snoop, per se.  You really just wanted the sheets… but it was a nice glimpse into the personal life of a man you knew so little about.  A room says a lot about someone, of course.

The picture on the bedside table was of a family with a small boy; it looked like it had been taken by an instant camera, the sepia tones evoking a bygone era.  You assumed that the boy was Sebastian, considering the faint resemblance.  He looked happy, and so did his mother; his father less so, but it seemed stoic more than negative.  Next to the photo was a card which rested partially open— thankfully, you couldn’t read it even if you wanted to, but you could also see the signature inside from where you were standing: “Iubesc, Mama.”

You weren’t sure if it meant ‘love’ or ‘sincerely’ or something else, but it made you smile.  You figured his mother must miss him with him living in Hungary for work.  You wondered if anyone missed you back in London.

A lot of his clothes were strewn in a pile on a chair in the corner.  Relatable.

Inside a small white paper box, you found a silver locket— oddly enough, no picture inside.  While ignoring the fact that you obviously were snooping because you would never look for queen-size sheets in a white paper box, you wondered why he would have something like that.  Maybe it was a relic from a previous relationship, and hopefully not a current one; maybe it was his sister’s or his mother’s.  Hell, maybe it was his: you weren’t the sort of person to say a guy couldn’t rock a silver locket.  He had the masculinity to spare, surely.

You gave up after searching the closet and the side bathroom and finding no sign of linens.  Surprisingly, he owned a lot of shirts.  They didn’t seem to get much use.  He wouldn’t mind if you stole one to use as pyjamas, right?

Pulling a soft button-up from the hanger, you stripped and changed into it, loving how small you felt with it on.  You snuggled up into the sheets and took a deep breath as you realized you were surrounded in the smell of him.  Oh, this was a very dangerous game to play.  You needed to be avoiding this infatuation, not indulging it by playing girlfriend.  It was almost like you two shared this bed, like he would come back any moment and pull you into his arms, kiss you goodnight.  You saw the light from the living room go dark through the crack under the door and felt another pang of guilt for his night spent on the old sofa.  Maybe in the morning you could convince him to take a day off or something, just so he could relax for once.  

Your last thought was of him as you drifted to sleep.  You wished you could say that wasn’t true of every other night.

The next morning came early; he slept with the shutters open, something you hadn’t noticed when it was dark out.  The sun shined directly into your eyes at about six in the morning.

“Must be an early riser,” you mumbled to yourself as you got up and used the side bathroom, splashing your face to perk yourself up a little.  When you left the hallway tentatively in pursuit of breakfast, all that was left of him was a Sebastian-shaped dent in the couch.  As you began to make a pot of coffee, you heard someone step into the kitchen behind you.

“Good morning,” you greeted as you turned around and smiled at Sebastian.

“...Cămașă mea,” he realized, pointing to you with raised eyebrows.  You glanced down and remembered what you were wearing, feeling yourself blush a little.  Maybe you should’ve put on pants…

“Oh, this… yeah, sorry, I hope you don’t mind…”

“Îl porți mai bine decât mine,” he shrugged, and it seemed to be a vague approval, so you kept on making the coffee. 

“You want some?” you offered, pointing to him and a mug as he stepped past you and sat at the table.

“Nu, mulțumesc,” he dismissed with a wave of his hand.  You nodded and poured your own, sitting across from him and sipping quietly.  You hadn’t noticed he was holding a book before; the shirtlessness, as always, distracted from that sort of detail.  But now that he pulled it out and continued from where he must have been before, you laughed a little.  It was clearly a Romanian translation, but the title was Dracula.  

“Isn’t that a little stereotypical?” you giggled.

He looked up from the book at you, and you pointed to it.  “Ah, Dracula!” he said.

“Yep, I’ve read that one.”

He made a little hissing noise, holding his fingers up and curling them, and you realized he was doing a vampire impression.  You laughed again.  

“You don’t make for a convincing vampire, what with the healthy glow and all,” you smirked.  “But feel free to bite my neck any time.”

For a second he made a serious, almost shocked face like he had somehow understood what you’d said, and you straightened up from sudden fear.  But he only nodded and returned to his book, relieving your anxiety a bit.  You realized that just because he didn’t speak English didn’t mean you could say whatever you wanted; maybe you’d given more away than you meant to with your facial expression.  Or maybe he really had no idea that you’d said anything notable at all and it was just a coincidence.

Maybe you needed to change out of this man’s shirt before it drove you even more insane.

~

@mariahthelioness29 @navybrat817 @navegandoaciegas @mandalorianspace @2smittinkittin @maizyistrash (it won’t let me tag you :(( fuck tumblr) @honeygingergemini @msmarvelwrites @honeyloverogers @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @fleeingdawn-blog1 @readermia @fanfuckingtastic04 

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Baby Bird

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈𝐈 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Request: i kinda had this idea for a warren x reader and if you were intrested or had time i’d be very appreciative 👉👈. (warren has his apocalypse wings) so the reader is a new student she’s very like shy and timid but very sweet and her only friend is jean, she just like refuses to converse with others. and her gift is her wings and they’re exactly like warren’s except black (kinda like he was the bad boy with white angel wings and she’s the good girl with black wings,sorry i love opposites 😂) and be just hates her because it’s a reminder of his old wings and mistakes. fast forward to like a day at school or party someone is messing with r because she never shows off her wings and then like push her or something and jean freaks out and tells warren r doesn’t know how to use her wings (super sad childhood with very anti-mutant parents) so then warren saves her and they talk more and get closer.

A/N: this is so late! I am so sorry! But I am finally getting around to all my requests and this wasn’t in my ask box so it got kind of lost and I forgot about it for a hot minute! I hope you enjoy it though! 🥺💛

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: underage drinking, teasing, anxiety, and mentions of poor home life

“Your grades are phenomenal, yet your class participation is lacking.” (Y/N) picked at her nails, looking down. Xavier called her into his office to “discuss her grades” but she knew that was the last thing on his mind. “I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not comfortable with, but at some point, everyone has to socialize.”

Her head shot up, “I do! I do socialize.” 

Sure, she ate lunch alone under the trees, would rather be alone than have a partner for class projects, and she didn’t have many friends— but she was new! Being the new kid was hard. Not to mention her parents were more than thrilled to get rid of her and her wings. 

Her big, black, feathery wings, that she didn’t even know how to use! She hid them under baggy sweaters, no matter the weather. 

Xavier gave her a look, “You don’t have any friends and you hide your beautiful wings.”

“Dr. McCoy and Mystique hide their true selves… and if Kurt had the chance he’d want to look normal too.” Charles sighed. “Look, um, Professor, I do— I do have friends.” 

“Who?” 

“Jean Grey.” 

Saying Jean was her friend wasn’t a lie— however, Jean was her only friend. (Y/N) didn’t like to talk, and Jean read minds— easy friendship right there. 

Jean had other friends and even a boyfriend. (Y/N) felt like she weighed her down or was charity work, but Jean always said otherwise. 

Sometimes (Y/N) would sit with Jean and her friends. They were all kind and welcoming, despite her not saying anything. The only one who seemed standoff-ish was Warren. 

 Warren was tall and extremely handsome. Jean had teased (Y/N) for losing her train of thought more than once for looking at Warren and thinking he was pretty. 

He had these huge metal wings and tattoos on his face. (Y/N) thought they could possibly be friends, mostly because they both had wings, but that didn’t go so well…

—

The one day (Y/N) wore a t-shirt, with holes in the back so she could flaunt her wings, everyone looked at her. She didn’t like the attention, but she couldn’t blame them for staring. 

Jean’s friends showered her with a mixture of surprise and compliments with her wings. 

“Can I touch them?” Peter asked. (Y/N) nodded, making eye contact with Warren for a moment. 

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. (Y/N) quickly looked away and frowned. Everyone liked her except for Warren. 

Was he the honest one of the group though? What if all of Jean’s friends actually hated (Y/N)? What if they just put up with her because Jean made them? She was sure Scott didn’t like her much either, even if he never showed it. He was dating Jean and her friendship with (Y/N) probably cut into their time… Oh, God… They just think my wings are neat and soon as I stop showing them they’ll get bored of me… 

Warren was glaring at something, and then he got up as left. Just like that!

“Is he okay?” (Y/N) asked Jean.

“He’s just being dumb. You know how boys are.” (Y/N) nodded, but she was pretty sure Warren wasn’t just “being dumb”. He probably hated her. 

—

It was finally the weekend, and (Y/N) was hunched over her books on a Friday night. Normal for her, as Jean and her friends usually went out somewhere. 

A knock at her door interrupted her work time, and she opened it to find Jean and Jubilee standing in the doorway. Jubilee was bouncing and had a bag in her arms. 

(Y/N) let them in. Jubilee set the bag on the floor and started going through it— it was full of makeup and hair stuff. “What’s going on?” 

“We’re going to a party tonight, and you’re coming with us.”

(Y/N) glanced over to her work pile, “But I’ve got a paper due—” 

“Two weeks from now. I have the same class.” Jubilee answered. 

“Jean…” She whined. 

“One night out won’t kill you. Neither will a little makeup and a cute outfit.”

“What?” 

“Here, put this on.”

She examined the lump of fabric in her hands. 

It was a dress. 

“People will see my wings!” 

“Yeah, that’s like the whole point,” Jubilee said.

(Y/N) sighed and slipped off her sweater, putting the dress on in its place. 

“You look so pretty!” Jubilee cooed. 

“Thanks.” (Y/N)’s immediate reaction was to fold her wings in tightly to her back, so they weren’t visible from the front. 

“Relax,” Jean told her, soon as she noticed what (Y/N) was doing. Jubilee signaled her to sit down on the floor next to her, amidst a hundred different makeup products. 

“I’m just gonna do some light, subtle makeup. Enough to enhance your features.” 

“Thanks?...” The brush tickled (Y/N)’s skin, making her nose scrunch up. 

“Relax your face. This doesn’t hurt.” 

“Sorry. Sorry…” 

“It’s okay.” 

—

Everyone somehow managed to fit in one car— except for Kurt and Peter, they were racing to see who could get to the party first— Jean and Scott in the front, Warren, Jubilee, Ororo, and (Y/N) in the back. 

(Y/N) couldn’t help but notice Warren looked a little flushed, “Is Warren okay?” 

“Yeah, why?” Jean asked.

“His face is flushed. Is he just like, hot or something?”

“Or something…” Jean smiled, trying to act nonchalant. (Y/N) gave her a deadpan look through the rearview mirror. “I can’t tell you, but he’s fine.” 

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Scott asked, looking back at her through the rearview mirror. 

“Yeah.” 

Scott nodded awkwardly.

—

Once parked, everyone quickly tumbled out of the car. Music could be heard from the inside. It was loud.

“I want to go home.” 

“(Y/N) we just got here— dance with Jubilee or go sit outside with Ororo and Warren.” 

“Warren doesn’t like me.”

“Not true… He’s just quiet.” 

(Y/N) started to retaliate but Jean walked into the kitchen with Scott, and (Y/N) tried to not interrupt her time with her boyfriend, so she shut up. 

Peter was playing beer pong with some kids. Jubilee and Kurt were dancing and both had cups in their hands. There was some wanna-be punk band playing.

(Y/N) decided to join them.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” 

She waved her hand.

“You look nice,” Kurt said.

“Thanks.” 

“I did her makeup,” Jubilee bragged. 

Kurt giggled slightly, “Nice.” 

The band was mostly playing covers, but they were pretty good. (Y/N) was letting loose and dancing along with Jubilee and Kurt.

I'm burnin' through the sky, yeah! 

Two hundred degrees, that's why they call me Mister Fahrenheit… 

I'm traveling at the speed of light. 

I wanna make a supersonic woman of you! 

(Y/N) accidentally hit Jubilee with her wings. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine! They’re soft anyways.”

Don't stop me, don't stop me, don’t stop me. Hey, hey, hey! 

Don't stop me, don't stop me, ooh, ooh, ooh…

(Y/N) was actually enjoying herself. She was dancing and chanting incoherently along with the lyrics. She almost felt free. 

The last time she had felt like this was as a child. Before her wings grew in. Before her parents deemed her a monster who had to hide. Before she lost everything she had. Before she decided to speak less was better for her. 

She didn’t even think about any of it. She didn’t even think about how Jean was probably making out with Scott in a bathroom, or how Warren had been acting. She was having fun, and that was the only thing that mattered to her. 

—

At some point during the night, (Y/N), slightly tipsy, made it up onto the roof with a few other kids. Everything was fine at first, but they were way too drunk.

“Why don’t you jump off the edge?” One of them asked.

“What?” 

“Fly off the edge, birdie!” The other laughed. “Jump! Jump!”

“Jump! Jump!” 

In the rooftop kids efforts to get (Y/N) to jump, people on the ground started chanting too. 

“What’s going on?” Warren asked. Jubilee shrugged. 

(Y/N) was terrified, wings folded in tightly to her back.

Jean came running up to Warren, “(Y/N) can’t fly! She can’t hear me either, she’s too nervous, lost in her own thoughts.” 

Warren wanted to ask what he could possibly do, but he never got the chance. 

(Y/N) fell off the roof. 

Or maybe she was pushed off. Either way, it didn’t matter because she was screaming and falling and no one was doing anything. 

Warren bolted and flew up so he could catch her in his arms. She looked so weak and tired in his arms. She was crying and his heart dropped seeing her like that. 

Warren carefully brought her to the ground, making sure she could walk on her own. “Come here,” He gave her his jacket and wrapped an arm around her, letting her cry into his chest. 

“I hated that—” She sniffled, “—I’m never doing it again.” Warren nodded understandingly, holding her close to his side. 

“Let’s go home, okay?” (Y/N) nodded, still in a state of shock. 

—

The halls of the mansion were like a ghost town, everyone was either out, asleep, or couped up in one of the many rooms. Warren and (Y/N) were alone as they walked up to her room. 

“Why did you save me?” 

Warren blinked, looking at (Y/N). She rarely spoke to or around him. 

“Jean said you couldn’t fly.” 

“Oh…” She avoided Warren’s eyes in embarrassment. So Jean told him to save me because I’m useless. Of course…

“You could have died, falling from that high up,” Warren’s voice was stern, but he wasn’t angry. 

“Sorry…” She mumbled.

Warren furrowed his brows, “Sorry? What are you sorry for?” 

“I inconvenienced you…”

“What? No!” He stopped to stand face to face, holding one of (Y/N)’s hands. “You could never.” 

(Y/N) felt fuzzy inside. Was she getting sick? Was she allergic to Warren? Why is he so nice? Why am I so nervous?

“I’d do the same for anyone.” 

Oh. Yeah, no, he doesn’t really like me… nobody does…  “Right.” 

Warren noticed her mood change, but he didn’t call her out for it. 

“I’m gonna go to bed. Thanks for bringing me home…” 

“Of course…” He coughed for a moment, clearing his throat. “If you need anything, um, my room isn’t that far—”

“Thanks, Warren.” She forced a smile. “Good night.”  

 “Good night.”

—

Warren slipped off his t-shirt, discarding it on his desk chair. He laid in bed, thinking about (Y/N).

What if he hadn’t caught her in time?

He shook the thought away as he tossed in bed, slowly falling asleep.

Warren didn’t hate (Y/N). He just hated her wings… they reminded him of his old wings. The one thing he wanted most in life… his new ones were a constant reminder of his past mistakes, they were the wings of a monster. 

But Warren had changed, or so he thought. He hated seeing (Y/N)’s wings, despite them rarely being out. He was jealous and angry. Mostly at himself.

But (Y/N) didn’t know how to use her wings…

That was strange to Warren. Maybe there was more to her than he thought. 

—

(Y/N) awoke to a knock on her door. 

“Hggggg… Just give me a minute.” She groaned. She rolled out of bed and opened the door. 

“Jean? What are you doing here?” 

“I wanted to make sure you were okay! We got back late and Warren said you were already asleep.”

“Oh… Well, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay… Do you wanna come down for breakfast?” 

(Y/N) glanced at her pajamas. “Can I get changed first?...”

“You look fine! Most of the group is still in their pj’s anyway.” 

“Okay.” 

Jean led (Y/N) down the hall to the kitchen where her friends were. Most of them were chatting amongst themselves or shoving food into their mouths. 

“Hangovers?” She asked. 

“Yeah some, I’m surprised you don’t have one.” 

“I never said I didn’t.” (Y/N) got herself a cup and a plate, taking some of the food and drink available. 

“(Y/N), are you okay from last night?” Jubilee asked. 

She nodded. 

Peter let out a breath, “Thank God. Xavier would have killed us if you’d gotten hurt.” (Y/N) nodded again, trying to just focus on the food on her plate. 

“You’re lucky Warren was there to catch you,” Scott stated. 

“Yep.” 

“Is everyone going to keep talking about last night?” She asked herself.

“Probably. You could have broken your legs, or sprained an ankle— plus people like to talk.” 

“Gossip, you mean gossip.” 

Jean didn’t respond, she was too focused on whatever Scott was saying. (Y/N) rolled her eyes. 

Typical. 

Warren trudged into the kitchen— his curls tangled, wings almost dragging against the floor, and he wore the world’s most wrinkled t-shirt— he looked like he didn't want to be there. 

He opened up a cabinet and took out a mug. He closed the cabinet door and moved over near the coffee pot on the counter. He took it and poured plain, black, coffee into his mug. 

Then he took a sip straight from the mug. 

“There is creamer and milk in the fridge,” (Y/N) reminded him. 

“I know.”

“Oh.”

(Y/N) focused on her plate again, trying to pretend the awkward interaction didn’t happen. 

“Hey, uh, I was wondering—“ (Y/N) quickly looked up at Warren as he spoke. “I could like, help you learn to fly.” 

“Um…”

“No one would see us. If you’re worried about that.” 

“Oh my god! You should say yes!” (Y/N) quickly twisted her head over at Jean and almost gave her the finger, but Scott was watching. So she just glared. 

She didn’t want Jean in her head all the time. Especially at a time like this. 

She looked back at Warren, “Sure. I have nothing else to do.” 

“Cool. I have some stuff to do, but I’ll get you in a few hours.” 

(Y/N) nodded, “Sounds good.” 

—

(Y/N) looked through her closet, trying to find something she could wear to fly in. Most of her tops weren’t exactly wing friendly. She sighed. 

She didn’t even want to do this— she just wanted to hide her wings forever and move on from last night. 

No. No, that wasn’t true in the slightest. 

She needed to learn to use her wings, they were a part of her, whether she liked it or not. She had her old life ripped away from her in exchange for the big black heaps of feathers on her back, weighing her down every day. She had to embrace them somehow. They were all she had. 

That and Jean… sometimes. And eventually, she’d have to leave the nest and talk to other people. 

Warren knocked on her door. (Y/N) glanced at her reflection— she still had her pajamas on! 

He knocked again, “(Y/N)? It’s me.” 

“Sorry! Give me a sec!” (Y/N) hurried and shut her closet, then opening her door to let Warren in. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, are you—“ He glanced at her clothes. (Y/N) instantly tensed up, insecure by his gaze. “Why are you still in your pajamas?” 

“Uh… I don’t really have anything good for flying—“ 

“Just wear some shorts and a shirt with holes in the back. Nothing fancy.” 

“You don’t understand, I have one shirt with holes in the back, and it’s in the laundry.” 

“You sleep with your wings tucked in?” Warren gawked.

“Sometimes.” She defended. 

Warren glanced at something shiny in the corner of his eye. “Grab a shirt you don’t care about.” 

“Okay…” (Y/N) grabbed an old Xavier’s school tee. 

“Give it to me.” She handed it to Warren. He took the scissors from her desk and quickly cut slits in the back of the t-shirt. “There. Now you have something to wear.” 

She just stared at Warren. 

“Are you gonna put it on or?...”

“Can you step out of the room then?” 

Warren’s eyes widened in realization on what he’d set himself up for. “Right! Right, um, do you need any help getting your wings through the holes?”

“If I do, I’ll ask. Now leave so I can get dressed.” 

“Yeah, right, right.” Warren quickly stepped out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. 

(Y/N) huffed and slipped her large nightshirt off, throwing it on her bed. She grabbed the shirt Warren cut up and put it on without a second thought. 

Head pops out through the first hole. 

The arms go through the sleeves. 

The shirt slips down and covers the chest and torso. 

But the wing holes were new. (Y/N) tried to push one of her wings out but she struggled. It took her a bit of reaching back with her hands to spread the fabric a bit so she had more space before she could get it through the slit. 

The second wing she had more trouble with. 

(Y/N) couldn’t reach her arms back as easily to spread out the slit. And her whole wing wouldn’t go through since it wasn’t the loosest of shirts. 

(Y/N) opened her door and peeked her head out. “Hey, I need some help…” 

Warren perked up a little, following (Y/N) into her room. 

“Just like, hold the two sides of the slit out, and then I can get my wing through.” 

Warren did as she asked. 

“We’re they too small?” 

“A little, but also this isn’t baggy like most of my clothes, so…” 

“I can make the holes bigger if you want.” 

She dismissed him, “It’s fine. I’ll do it later.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I already wasted enough time getting ready. We should go out.”

Warren nodded, “Yeah. We’re gonna be out for a while.”

—

They were standing on the roof of Xavier’s, looking out onto the grassy campus. 

“So, uh, flying once you get the hang of it, is like a reflex almost… But uh basically, you just need to flap your wings, so you keep yourself afloat of sorts. Does that make sense?”

“Kind of.”

“Okay, um, just like, run off the edge—”

“Runoff the edge?!” (Y/N) asked, terrified of falling to her death. Scared of having a repeat of the night before.

“Just flap your wings, and if you mess up I’ll catch you.” 

(Y/N) stood at the edge, peering down at the ground below. “Are you sure?”

“Maybe back up a bit, get like a running start first.” 

(Y/N) did as he suggested, running off the edge. When her feet left the roof, she tried to flap her wings as Warren had told her. 

She felt herself flying like a wonky baby bird. Somewhat lopsided with each flap, but she was doing it! 

“Oh my gosh! Warren! Warren I’m doing it!” 

She could see Warren still on the roof. He gave her a thumbs up and some encouraging cheers. 

(Y/N) smiled, struggling to fly, but flying nonetheless. She looked down for a moment, and then suddenly realized she was many feet above the ground, in the air. (Y/N) panicked, and stopped flapping her wings for a moment, before she started to fall. 

“Shit!” Warren flew off the roof to save (Y/N).  

But it was a false alarm, for, by the time Warren was about to catch (Y/N), she’d regained herself and was no longer falling to the ground.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, it’s just really high up, I’m scared of falling again, like at the party.” 

“Hey, hey, relax, don’t focus on the ground or your wings. Just— focus on me, okay?”

She looked at his face— his blue eyes, his plush pink lips, the dark lines adorned all over his face, and how he had a few untamable, blonde curls that framed his face— she looked at Warren’s wings and tried to copy how his fluttered and kept him aflight. 

“You’re doing it!” He told her.

“Really?” (Y/N) was almost in disbelief.

“Yeah, you’re doing great!” 

(Y/N) looked at her wings, realizing what she was doing. She was worried she’d fall, but it never happened. 

“I’ll race you to the mansion next door.” 

“Next door? That’s like several acres.” Warren gave her a knowing look, and then it all clicked. “Oh! Oh, you’re so on!” 

Warren laughed and they both flew off at high speed, away from school.

—

They got back to the mansion after sunset, both giggling and playfully fighting about who won the race. 

“I think I won—”

“Oh, yes, beginner’s luck, Baby Bird.”

She raises her eyebrows and points at him, “Aha! So you admit I won.”

“I may have let you…” 

(Y/N) scoffed, “Yeah, right.” 

“Yeah, you got me. I wouldn’t go too easy on you.” Warren was headed for the kitchen, but (Y/N) was going in the opposite direction.

“I was gonna get a bite to eat. Wanna join me?”

“Um, I was going to shower first…” 

“Oh… I’ll see you later then?”

(Y/N) was suddenly very awkward and nervous, “Um, yeah! Pfft, of course, uh— yeah. Yeah!” 

“Great!” Warren was also suddenly somewhat nervous. 

“Great!” 

The two were on their separate paths, before (Y/N) turned back for a moment.

“You good?” Warren asked.

“Yeah, um,” (Y/N) kissed his cheek. It didn’t last long, but it left her heart pounding and Warren flustered.

“Thanks for today. I’m gonna go shower.”

[lavendersoft]

How to spoil your Jimin. (18+)

Synopsis:  Poly jikook x reader au where Jungkook and the reader have a friendly-ish rivalry where they try to get Jimin’s attention and are constantly possessive over him. Jimin acts like it’s annoying but he secretly loves it. I mean, he does after all get the best of both worlds. Both of his lovers are in “competition” for his affection so he receives lots of gifts, praise, and surprise dates. Little do they know, though, that Jimin’s been “working late” lately on purpose. Maybe he knows that his lover’s have bonding time when he’s gone for a while. Maybe he enjoys fantasizing about what they could possibly be doing...

Pairings: Jungkook x reader, side Jimin x reader, side Jikook

Warnings: Lots of smut, a smidge of angst, tiny pinch of fluff at the end. All around good mix. Jungkook is a little shit but so are you. Pretty short and to the point, porn with only a little plot. Degradation, humiliation, orgasm denial, edging (like a frustrating amount), tears during sex, unprotected sex (don't!), dominant Jk, (forced)subby reader.

Author’s notes: Don't be fooled by the title- this is mostly a Jungkook drabble. I might make a p.2 with Jimin a little more involved but for now enjoy a bratty dom jungkook :)

—

Jimin is working late tonight (again) which means you have the pleasure of spending the night alone with your (beloved) nemesis. Jimin has always been the mediator between you two competitive brats, especially when the verbal play fights get too heated. When he’s not around, though, it’s a free for all. One of two things will happen; you will either act like a civilized, respectable couple- or you will get on each other’s nerves so bad the night ends with a heavy fucking session- with both of you fighting for dominance. You were cooking dinner together and everything was fine until Jungkook’s smart ass decided he wanted to bring up Jimin's birthday gifts that you’d given him over the weekend.

You swear to Jimin that Jungkook always starts it. He really does.

“Didn’t that necklace look so beautiful on my Jimin-ssi?”

Jungkook had given Jimin a silver locket with all of our initials imprinted onto it, with your anniversary date on the inside. It was really cute.

“Dude, that necklace you gave him wasn’t even that cute. My gift was so much better.”

“Oh, okay miss ‘surprise trip to Fiji.’ Next time I'm going all out. You’re not gonna have a chance.”

“Awwww, Kookie don’t be too upset. It’s a trip for three! You won’t mind being the third wheel right?” You tease as you pinch his cheek.

He slaps your hand away with the scoff.

“The only person that’s gonna be third-wheeling is you, Princess.”

“Bet money, Baby Boy.”

He sneers at the nickname.

“I’m older than you.”

Side-eyeing him, you turn back around and finish up the meal. Although you tried, you couldn't shake thing feeling of his eyes searing a hole in your back. 

“You look kinda slutty in those shorts.” He chastises, under his breath.

Ah. It begins.

“Excuse me?” You turn around sad if he’s just slapped you.

“I said you look pretty tonight, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him. It’s definitely gonna be one of those nights.

The evening goes on with Jungkook doing anything and everything in his power to tease and annoy you. The brat knows every single one of your pet peeves and pushes every button and gets on every possible nerve you have.

Eating messily and loudly? Check.

Not helping with the after-dinner cleanup? Check.

Hogging all the blankets in the living room? Check.

Being selfish with the television? Check.

Purposely making a (loud) phone call to Jimin in the middle of your movie? Check.

And to top it all off, doesn’t even let you say bye to Jimin before he hangs up the phone. Fucking check.

By the roll of the movie credits, you’re fuming. After having to listen to the jerk tell Jimin how much he misses and loves him. About how lonely he is without him. You’ll admit, that one stung a little.

Besides all of that though, there is something delicious in the way his grey sweatpants hang loosely on his hips. Something in the way he takes off his white t-shirt and stretches his arms up to the ceiling, showing off the tattoo that line his muscles.

“Well, Princess, it was fun. Night!” He flashes a sarcastic grin before bounding off to the master bedroom.

You really have half a mind to sleep in the guest room. You were actually on your way to the empty room when you pause. No. You’re going to sleep in your own bed tonight. And you’re going to make all this relentless teasing count.

He’s already under the covers when you saunter in, making your way to the dresser. You don’t spare him a look when you bend down to pick out your favorite silk, button-up pajama shirt. You leave the matching pants in the drawer.

Taking your sweet time, you strip off your loose cotton shirt, revealing that you wore nothing underneath. You know he’s watching you from the mirror above the dresser, getting a full view of your bare breast. Still, you pay him no mind when you hear the rustling of the sheets behind you.

You have to hold back a smirk when you bend down once again to slide your shorts down your thighs, giving him a full view of your ass. You were completely naked now, and you can feel the heat of his gaze seer into you. Throwing on the slightly oversized shirt but only fastening the bottom button, leaving your cleavage out just to spite him.

Crawling over to your side of the bed, you lean over him to turn off the lamp on his nightstand.

“Night.” You whisper to him through the dark, before cuddling way to close for him to be comfortable. Your bare behind pressing into his front shamelessly. Just to twist the knife a little, every now and then you’ll act like you need to adjust, wiggling your ass further into him.

You know you’re winning when you hear his breath hitch. Not long after, you feel it. Through the loose confines of his pants, the stiffness.

It takes less than five minutes for him to start pressing into you back. His fingers making soft shapes on your hips, then lowering to your inner thigh.

The hardening of your nipple is hard to dismiss while it rubs along the silk of your shirt.

 His fingers hover right over your heat.

“If you want to stop, tell me now. I’m not gonna go easy on you.”

“Don’t stop, Jungkook.”

With your words, his fingers explore as they please. Passing through your folds, feeling your arousal.

“So wet already. How sweet.” He hisses through his teeth. “Is this all for me, baby?”

All you can do is groan in response when his fingers dive deeper into you, the stretch burns so good. You can’t help your hips rolling back and forth as you ride his hand, your leg lifting to give him better access. His warm lips connect with the back of your neck with intent to mark you, no doubt.

His patience must have worn thin. He pushes you on to your stomach roughly while positioning himself behind you and pulls your hips upward. The view of your center makes his mouth water.

“Spread your legs.”

You oblige but take your time, still not giving in to him. You feel slight movement behind you and you assume it’s him stripping. Your assumptions were confirmed when you feel the head of his cock stroking up and down your dripping slit. You lift your hips a bit further and arch your back a bit deeper in hopes of persuading him.

He sinks into you, letting out a grunt of relief.

His size is almost too much for you to handle so you reach back to place a hand on his lower abdomen to get him to slow his entrance.

He chuckles cruelly.

“Is this all you can do? God, Jimin can take my cock so much better than you.”

The venomous words ignite a fire in you.

“Yeah? Well, Jimin also has a much better dick game than you so bite me, Asshole.” You retort, turning to catch a glimpse at him.

Something in his eyes darkened at this. Without so much as a little warning, he grabs your hips and slams himself into you at full kilter, starting at a bone-chilling pace.

You scream out in both pain and pleasure before burring your face in the sheets in an effort to silence yourself. When he realizes, his thrusts become even harder and you have no choice but to arch your back, eyes rolling into your skull. You hate the way the illicit sounds erupt from you without your consent as if you had no control over your own vocal cords.

“Sorry? What was that? Who has a better dick game than me?” He pairs each verbal jab at you with a hard roll of his hips. Your breathing is shallow now and you can feel everything he has to give. Every stroke, every breath ghosting across your skin, every harsh love bite, every vein that lines his cock.

“J-Jungkook...”

“Answer me.” His tone was deep and labored.

“Fuck you.” You bite back, your second wind of strength hitting you. He doesn't let it doesn't last long, though.

You desperately cling to the bratty facade that you play so well but you can feel it crumble with every groan that slips from him.

And he knows it.

He can tell he’s about to break you, he looks forward to it.

This definitely isn’t the first time you and Jungkook have had sex but the dynamic is slightly off from normal. Usually, the constant power struggle is consistent in your sex life, especially if Jimin is there. You’d die before submitting to Jungkook while Jimin is there to watch. Normally, you’d insist on riding Jungkook to feel more powerful or in control. This is the first time in a long time that you’ve been underneath the younger of your boyfriends. There’s something ever so slightly off about tonight. You couldn't figure out why tonight is the night that your body has decided to give in to Jungkook. Is it because Jimin hasn’t been around much due to work?

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Princess, haven’t you learned yet?”

His hip movements halt as he leans into you, hot breath fanning over the shell of your ear,

“I’ve always been the boss, sweetheart.”

When he starts again, his pace is merciless. He knows he’s on the verge of cracking you. He knows once you show him the submissive side that you usually reserve for Jimin, there would be no going back. He wants to break you. He wants to see that side of you that you only ever give to Jimin. He craves you.

Your fingers clamp around the bedsheets in one last attempt to control yourself. The attempt falls flat when Jungkook lands a hard slap on your ass, then immediately snakes his hand around your body to circle the bundle of nerves that he has oh-so-conveniently neglected. The motherfucker just won't give you a chance to recover.

You’re not it sure what comes over you in that exact moment. Maybe it was your last glimpse of hope that you could salvage the situation and save your dwindling ego by pushing him further.

“Ah! Jimin!”

Instant regret. His body becomes rigid. His pace once again stops completely. His hold is surely to leave bruises on your hips with how tight he holds you. His breath shakes and you know you messed up.

Why? Why would you do that? You’re definitely not gonna be walking properly tomorrow. That itself is gonna bring so much more teasing from him.

He leans over you and his chest makes contact with your back. His hot breath warms the shell of your ear.

“Definitely gonna regret that, you fucking slut.”

And you did. If he wasn’t holding back before, now he was ruthless. He lands several targeted slaps to your ass, making you yelp. He takes himself out of you completely before ramming back inside.

“I could take you and our precious Jimin at the same time if I wanted to. And you’d both take it, wouldn’t you? You’d both be my good little sluts, right?”

You can feel the rumbles of his chest as he spoke, along with that coil winding up in your belly.

The last straw breaks when he reaches around with the same hand that was playing with your clit and wraps his it around your throat, pulling you up from your position on your elbows. He leans in tauntingly close and practically growls in your ear.

“Say it.”

“Yes! Yes!! I’ll be your little slut! Please- I need to cum..”

He grins, high on ecstasy.

“Maybe I'll let you come...” he feigns thoughtfulness, “if you admit my gift was better.”

“But it wasn’t!-“ another harsh thrust silences you.

“Damn it... okay... the necklace was better...”

His hips slow down dramatically, tauntingly, snatching away the orgasm you felt creeping up on you. Yet, he still manages to rub that very specific place inside of you that makes you want to scream and scratch at him. He releases his hold on your throat and pushes you back onto your elbows.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that?”

The tears of pure, white-hot frustration finally break loose.

“The necklace was the better, more thoughtful gift! Jimin probably liked it so much more than mine!! It’s really pretty!”

His movements stop altogether and then pulls out. You whine at the unwanted empty feeling. Time slows down when he grabs you by the thigh and forces you on your back, facing him. He haphazardly throws a leg over his shoulder as he peers down at you with a sadistic, Cheshire-cat grin.

Then, without even the slightest warning, he slams back into you, but he doesn’t start his pace yet.

You didn’t even realize that your nails were making contact with his back and sides until his head rolled back revealing his thick, sweaty neck.

“I knew you were a good girl.”

“Please Jungkook,” you sobbed. “It hurts. Please. I need...” You can’t even bring yourself to finish your pleading.

It might have been your delirious, sex induced state but the way he reaches down to gently wipe away the tears on your face is almost too loving for the situation.

“Shhhhh, okay baby, I got you.” He coos. His voice was mellow, almost as if he was trying to pacify you.

He starts his pace again and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Your muscles feel like they’re on fire yet also feel ice cold. White dots cloud your vision as you feel your orgasm approach rapidly. It must have been a maximum of twenty minutes that you’ve been fucking, but it feels like hours. Him mercilessly bringing your body to the edge over and over has finally cracked you. You pray he doesn't take this one away from you. No, you’re going to make sure of it-

“Wanna be good.”

“Hm?”

“Wanna be good for you. Wanna take all of you. Wanna be your good girl.” You chant absentmindedly.

“Then be a good girl and come for me.”

That triggers your orgasm immediately. It rips through you mercilessly. You tried to bite down on his skin to muffle your screams but it didn’t work. Right in the middle of your height, you feel a gush of warm liquid pour into you.

“Fuck... Y/n...”

You both feel the way you clench around him as you greedily try to milk him of all he has. He collapses and is essentially dead weight on top of you, but you don’t mind. His warmth is comforting. 

You barely register his arms wrapping tightly around you in the hazy aftermath of your orgasm. There was only the sound of both of your heavy breaths filling the room until,

“You know I love you, right?”

You look down at the way he rests his head on top of your breasts as if they’re pillows.

“You know this whole competitive act is all a game, right? Because I love you. So much.” He leans down to give the valley between your breast a chaste kiss.

This was one of those moments where you wish you could stop time and savor it forever.

Jungkook wasn’t the lovey-dovey type with you most of the time, but the way he peers up at you with those big round eyes filled with so much admiration and that dopey, fond smile he wears proudly, you know he’s not lying.

Again, this wouldn’t be the first time he’s said those three little words to you, and

if you’ve learned anything about him in the time you’ve been together, it’s that he doesn’t say “I love you” unless he undoubtedly, one hundred percent means it.

“I know, baby.” You run your fingers softly through his hair, careful not to tug,

“I love you too.”

--

[msbarrows]

So about 7-ish years ago I did a post showing all the characters I had on Arkenstone server at that time (all 15 of them). Some server merges, new classes, and new races later, I’m currently up 33 of them on Arkenstone. Lengthy descriptions under the cut.

These include:

Beornings: Dynari - yes, just the one. I’ve never really gotten enough into this class to make a second (I think I maybe rolled one on one of my other servers, but that was one of a number of characters that wasn’t worth having to buy more character slots to transfer over when the merges happened)

Burglars: Abaninh, Bilba, and Magpye. Magpye was my original main character pre-Moria, and is still one of my higher level characters. Bilba was made because of a female Bilbo story @pibroch was writing, and still gets occasional play. Abaninh was created because female dwarves with correct pronouns AT LAST (I happily spent around a month fishing daily just to get her the Lady of Streams title). These days she mostly stands around looking pretty in the Bree craft hall, holding extra LIs for my level 100+ characters to use as melters.

Captains: Jerabor, Merrimor, and Miffy. I’ve had Miffy for ages, she’s one of my scholars, is one of my higher level characters, and still gets played fairy regularly. Merrimor and Jerabor are rarely played low level alts.

Champions: Greyscale, Helara, and Orri. Orri is the high level and still played a lot character in that bunch; he just recently made it to 100 and his embued LIs. Greyscale was made as a themed character - all his gear, mounts, and pets have a white-greys-blacks theme. Being a champ, he’s fun to play, and while currently languishing somewhere in his 30s, will probably see more leveling eventually. Helara is because I wanted a high elf champ, though she gets very little play because she and Greyscale are too close in levels atm.

Guardians: Boxe, Parrs, and Sofew. Sofew is one of my original characters but OMFG guardians are a PITA to level; they’re durable, but very low DPS, so sure they can take damage forever, but they pretty much need to when soloing since that’s approximately how long it takes them to kill anything anywhere near their level. There’s only two reasons she’s made it to high levels: the free Aria of the Valar from a preorder, and then wanting 10 more levels so she could get the goat mount from Erebor. Boxe was made specifically as a mule to hold and process ore, and all his levelling comes strictly from that (which has him in his high 30s, amusingly enough). Parrs was briefly played and is now a rep-clickie mule.

Lore-Masters: Feynriel, Leafwyn, and Yorista. Leafwyn is another original and high level character, and my main cook (like most crafting classes, I have several). Feynriel is based on the NPC of that name from DA2 and doesn’t get played much any more. Yorista I go on and off playing.

Minstrels: Elalhael and Nowt. Nowt is currently stalled because he’s getting less fun to solo the higher he gets; has his Rohan warsteed and might get as far as embued weapons, but unlikely to progress any further. Elalhael has been a scholar mule for years.

Rune-Keepers: Arimyn and Faragh. Faragh started off on a different server and is pretty much just a jeweller mule these days. Arimyn has been stalled at just pre-Moria for years (she at least quested her starter LIs before stalling). At some point I’ll get back around to her, because lightning from your fingertips, yo.

Hunters: My second favourite class, with Ceil, Gynn, Iztariani, Knarlie, Sebris, and Tisane. Iztariani I’ve had since pre-Moria and is currently kicking around the northern kingdoms. Ceil was levelling for a while because hunters are fun, but has stalled out in Isengard content because I feel more like levelling Knarlie, who is currently catching up fast (he’s into Lothlorien and later Moria, and should be hitting Mirkwood soonish). Gynn is my AH mule, Sebris is another jeweller mule, and Tisane is just resting on her laurels until I feel like doing more 30s/40s content on a hunter again.

Wardens: My one true class. I adore playing wardens. I used to have more, before the server merge, and still have one lingering on Landroval. These are Gnormen (sometimes scholar mule, sometimes adventurer), Kivrin (semi-retired in Enedwaith), Pantree (food mule and wearer of silly cosmetics), Rothruin (high elf, rarely played), Somany (main and highest level character, currently napping near Minas Morgul), Teasle (semi-retirned in early Rohan), and Vvardyn (rarely played alt).

[stylishanachronism]

Okay so we’re going to open with the fact that while Obsidian has at least one person on staff who understands armor, literally nobody understands clothing, especially historical clothing, and though they stumbled into something... acceptable in two and a half cases(1), literally everything else they’ve produced on the subject is garbage.

So what’s the most garbage cultural garb in Eora? I’m going to shock you, despite my complaining on the affront that is the Dyrwood, it’s actually the Vailians. They’re supposedly primarily metalsmiths and textile traders, (iirc Obsidian called Venice and the Phoenicians as the major guiding influences), with really strong textual aesthetic sensibilities, and yet they’re all wearing drab closefitting garments with neither wild shaping nor excess fabric, mostly in deeply boring greys. It’s like... bad period piece Renaissance Venetians, but make it 90s haute couture. It is *painfully* bad. Deadfire improves, a little bit, but these are supposedly the most baroque bitches around, I should be seeing vivid colors (especially in reds and blues and purples), rich blacks, and enough spare fabric to drown a medium sized child. Also lace. A famous vineyard’s worth of lace. At least blackwork, come on Obsidian they look cheap.

Based on Pallegina’s armor, I should also be seeing a ‘pigeon breast’ silhouette on literally everyone, or alternatively low, square cut bodices to show off extremely fancy underwear (and don’t worry, we’ll get to the underwear), and I should be seeing split hose, not pants, if I am seeing hose at all. I will accept pants for exactly two cultures and no more. and the Republics do not apply.(2) Deadfire did them a good turn by introducing brocades but where is the velvet. The silk. The weird hats. The dagged, slashed sleeves to show off the fact you’re rich enough to wear an overdress, an underdress, and then your underwear’s fancy as hell too. Everybody on the south-eastern half of the Eastern reach is wearing, at minimum, a chemise, hose, and if you’ve got boobs some sort of stays to keep said boobs put, and pockets, before you even get to their outerwear.and just like today, everybody wants pretty underwear. Embroidered cuffs and collars, clocked hose, lace on everything, if you’re rich, blackwork if you aren’t, extremely beautiful pockets, the works. The Republics, being the rich people with all the fabric, have canonically raised fashion to an art form, so they should be dripping with extra details, and they should not only be the only people with flat patterning, they should be reveling in that fact. They are not doing any of these things.

The second most garbage cultural garb is, of course, the Dyrwood. Again, I should be seeing lots of color, not necessarily saturated but given their climate and stated food products I can make an educated guess about what dye plants are around, so lots of greens and yellows and rusty-orange reds and (maybe) pale blues, and a billion extremely rich shades of brown and almost-black, mostly plainweave for themselves (they’re shipping out their brocades for the most part), but lots of embroidery again. They can keep the bracers, they’re the only canon-given detail I actually liked (and it plays into a different headcanon re: where the fuck did you get the standing army), but they don’t even get split hose, much less pants. Skirts for everybody! Again, these people are producing all the fabric, and it’s cold(ish), so multiple layers are a thing, as is excess cloth, and if you’re going to do that, you’ll dye your underdress a fun color to contrast with your overdress (which very well might be quartered, too), at the very least. There’s probably a lot of plain trimming, and guards, and they’re coming out of Aedyran fashion so there’s not a lot of shaping but stripes and plaids are probably a thing, and certainly no flat patterning. Think bilaut over later kirtles, with side lacing and belting around the waist for various purposes (like making your boobs stay put, depending on if you’ve got stays or not, or holding up said skirt when you’re working in the fields, to get it out of the way.)(3)

Based on the leather armor you pick up, I should also be seeing the beginnings of a more conical style, moving away from clothes you just drop over your head into separate skirts and bodices (for everybody, not just women), which still probably lace up the front or (more commonly) the sides. (There’s an argument to be made that kilts are a thing, coming out of Eir Glanfath, but it’s probably more of a western than an eastern thing, and frankly I’m not sold, get back to me on this.) Also, going back to my dearly cherished ring lace headcanon, pretty much everyone wears extremely beautiful knit lace shawls (but not trim, and not non-knit), because even if you’re selling all the really nice stuff you’ve still got piles and piles of little apprentices practicing their trade, and somebody’s got to wear it.

Unfortunately I just don’t have enough information about Glanfathians to say anything other than what they’re wearing is also probably garbage, and fashion is probably a hugely tribe-specific thing. More nomadic tribes probably don’t wear many wovens, probably saving what cloth they make or trade for for things like belts and blankets and carrying bags, but again, it should all be extremely colorful. You’ll see more shaping and piecework here, because leather does not appear in neat rectangles the way cloth does, and if you’ve already got that curve you might as well use it, lots of fur, mostly for warmth but also as decoration, and we might see Dyrwodian fashion influences with the more eastern tribes, depending on the mystery of what’s going down politically at that border and whether or not those tribes are more or less nomadic.

Ixmitl gets an honorable mention for having the most color and also horses, and so the pants are acceptable, but I’d like to see more color and more embellishment. And also more information. Rauatai gets an honorable mention for having actually reasonable rectangular construction on everything (clearly an accident but I’ll take it) and again, some color. Aedyr gets an honorable mention for having some logic put into it’s creation, even if that logic isn’t extended out to its colonies like it should be, and even if what we see in game makes it clear Obsidian doesn’t actually understand how things like chitons work.

Engwith gets all the honorable mentions for somehow being the most internally consistent culture as far as art and fashion go, despite 90% of that art and fashion being extremely hard to see frescoes, and the rest of it being Thaos. Yeah it’s basically a straight copy off Sumer but you know what? That just means it works.

At some point in the distant future I may update this with illustrations of canon v. what we reasonably should be seeing, but right now is not that time.

1: Whoever Obsidian picked up for Tyranny clearly stayed on (Tyranny’s clothing was uniformly pretty great, even if it had the same bra problem), and they’re the only person with half a clue, which is why the Huana look as good as they do. Pillars gets half a point for Aedyr, Iximtl, and hilariously enough Engwith, for having reasonable starting points, and Deadfire should get another half point for Rautai, but that picture of Maia exists and it is such an affront they lost it again.

2: Ixmitl and the various groups of the White that Wends can have pants, the first because they’re canonically horse people, and that’s what pants are for. The White doesn’t actually get pants, per se, they’re fairly clearly inspired variously by the Inuit and the Vikings, so they have separate undergarments we would call pants in order to help keep warm, but it counts for this. Nobody else gets pants.

3: Just for the record, this is also where Raedceras should be, fashion-wise, but we have huge amounts of nothing when it comes to non-priest everyday wear so I can’t really talk about. My logic still stands, plus they’re even less likely to know about flat patterning, but, y’know.

[gaystardust]

Twelve Weak Lies 1/? [Kanera Week Day 2]

Synopsis: An injury forces Hera and Kanan to land on Eso, a planet neither of them have heard of. Neither of them expect to fall undercover as a young couple expecting the first child, just because the people of the village are so convinced that’s who they are. Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: Discussion of pregnancy and pregnancy loss, although neither of those actually happen. Some discussion of poverty and existence. AO3 Link: [link] A/N: There is a host of made up fruit/vegetables (or our-world food given a slightly warped version of its name), some made of Twi’leki culture. This is Chapter 1, and the rest of the chapters will go on AO3 at some point after Kanera Week because I am waaayyy behind.

 ----------------

 “What about that one?” Kanan asked, making a stab at something on the star map Hera couldn’t even see.

She leant forward, squinting at the… planet? Moon? Speck of dust caught in the projector? “I’m not sure I even know where that is.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter where it is. I’ve got a feeling.”

A feeling. It was always ‘a feeling’, a phrase Hera couldn’t parse well enough to know when it was just a hunch, or something a little more concrete.

Of course, concrete generally meant something mysterious and borderline magic that she would never be able to understand and Kanan would never explain.

Hera sighed, turning back to the ground slowly rising towards them. It was a powdery brown colour, muted across the whole of the planet bar thick splotches of green and blue in a band around the equator. A quick scan showed few life forms, unsurprising based on the size of the planet, centred around several obvious sentiments.

She’d spent a good few hours in hyperspace trying to work out what exactly this planet was and if there was any infrastructure they should be aware of. But it was still just a blank pinprick in the middle of nothingness, with absolutely no information past a name and an export listed anywhere on the holonet.

Eso. Main export, something helpfully named the Eesu fruit, and wood from something called the Uko tree.

So basically there was nothing. Absolutely nothing. And yet, Kanan wanted them to go there, so they were going.

Or maybe Hera was just tired of arguing. They’d had nothing but fights the last few days, the stress of their repeated failed missions rubbing them both the wrong way over and over.

The wound on her side still stung, and her leg wouldn’t hold her full weight unless she was leaning on something.

It had been an eventful tenday, to say the least.

The atmosphere seemed pretty good, rocking the ship a small amount as they entered. The gravity felt… fairly average, which made sense for the size of the planet.

Hera tapped the intercom button on the control panel, leaning forward. “Almost ready to land, Kanan. If you could come up, that would be great.”

It would take a little while for them to reach the ground, but having them both up front would help. There was so little they could do without the pretence of a fully functioning crew - or even a family unit, in some cases. It stopped people questioning how two people so young had ended up with a ship of their own, travelling the galaxy instead of enlisting or settling down to start a family.

There were no prizes for guessing which comment was directed at who.

By the time the landing legs of the Ghost had fully extended, Kanan was finally in the cockpit. Whatever he’d been doing in his quarters had apparently held him up, but nothing past the “sorry, I was busy” indicated what exactly that was.

A dark-skinned Kiffar waved them down, her dark hair tied up and fluttering behind her back. Hera could already see the pouch on her belt, likely heavy with credits and whatever else people were paying in.

Kanan sighed, standing without prompting. Sometimes, his Force sensitivity came in handy. “I’ll go get it.”

The minute they were securely landed and shut down, the Kiffar was stepping up to meet them. She was tall, as tall as Kanan if not more so. She looked somewhat strict, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

“Y’new here?” she asked, voice rough under her Outer Rim accent. Kanan nodded, immediately stepping up to his usual role. They’d practised this too many times to slip up. “Yes, Ma’am. Looking for somewhere safe to dock our ship, likely long term.”

“You planning to stick around?” “We hope so,” Her added, moving to stand slightly behind Kanan’s shoulder. “We could do with a fresh start.”

For a second, the Kiffar considered them. “Work?”

Kanan nodded to himself. “For me, not for her,” he shrugged towards Hera. The Kiffar gave her an odd look, analysing something between them that was a little uncomfortable. “She’s not well at the minute.”

It wasn’t a lie, and it wasn’t hard for her to see. Hera knew she was washed out, skin grey-ish as she recovered from the obnoxious injury on her side. Even when she tried to stand straight, she was hunched to one side.

Whatever the Kiffar was looking for, she clearly found. “Well, if you’re sticking around, call me Mihra. Now…” She glanced to the Ghost, the cogs ticking behind her eyes. “Y’planning to stay on the ship, or are ya looking for a house?”

They looked between each other, considering for half a second. “Yeah,” Kanan spoke up, turning back to Mihra. “Yeah, somewhere to live would be great.”

She nodded, turning to call something over her shoulder. It sounded like Huttese, but it might not be at all - definitely derivative though. One of the attendants rushed off somewhere.

“Tiss will see what she can find. Let’s get your ship settled, and then we’ll get you somewhere to stay.” She must have noticed the confusion in Hera’s face, unsure why they were willing to help. “Relax. You aren’t the first people to turn up like this, and y’won’t be the last. We’re a community of people on the run from something or other. If you’re willing to work, we’re willing to help.”

She said it with finality, as if she expected neither of them to ask any more questions.

And so they didn’t.

—

They were barely settled an hour when someone knocked on the door. The wood rattled its metal fixtures, a noise neither of them were particularly used to, before opening easily.

Hera reached for her blaster automatically, Kanan doing the same. She already had it trained on the doorway when a tall, Rodian woman stepped forward. Her eyes trained on the blasters for a moment, but she didn’t react.

Her bright, star-field eyes watched the two of them before she half turned towards the doorway. “Maar? I would stay outside a little longer, if I were you.”

Hera half-lowered the blaster, but not completely.

When the Rodian turned back, she smiled. “Apologies, I clearly should have waited. Mahra told me you were looking for work?”

Kanan stepped forward, nodding. “I am.”

She nodded. “The name’s Tsiin, I work in one of the forests just out of town - fruit picking. Not necessarily difficult, but we mainly pick for ourselves so it’s fairly rewarding.”

There was a moment of quiet while Kanan considered it. “And the pay?”

“I should have guessed,” Tsiin laughed, shaking her head. “It’s fair. Some of the payment is in food, we pick a variety so it doesn’t get too bad. Otherwise, it’s pay based on quantity. 30 credits per bag, we normally get a handful done between us a day.”

Kanan clicked his ton. “So, why do I pick that instead of the other options?”

“Three things,” she held her hand up, four fingers curled up into a fist. “Safety. Shorter hours. Less Imperial pressure.” Something about that made Tsiin look directly at Hera. “More time at home, supporting your partner here.”

“That’s four things,” Hera pointed out sharply, but Kanan half spoke over her.

“Fine. When do I start?”

“Day after tomorrow. Get yourselves settled tomorrow. I’ll come and collect you an hour after dawn, and you’ll be back before sundown.”

To Hera, they sounded long hours of physical labour, but Kanan seemed to think it was fine. “Okay. Deal. I can’t promise how long we’ll hang around, though.”

“Oh, we’re used to that.”

The new voice was deeper, raspier, strangely melodic for the near-human body it came from. Their hair was so dark, it stuck out against the almost white colour of his skin and their clouded eyes. In one hand they held a bag of interlocking ropes, metal containers swinging low.

The cane in their other hand tapped on the floor just in front of him.

They smiled vaguely into the room, mostly looking towards them but not perfectly. “Apologies for interrupting, but we are more than used to people coming and going in our community. Fast friends are common here.”

Tsiin sighed from where she should. “This is Maar. They run one of the market stalls in town.”

Kanan stayed quiet, but Hera forced herself to smile, hoping he could hear it in how she spoke. “Nice to meet you, Maar.”

“Likewise,” they replied, before holding out the rope bag towards her. It was more direct than previously, her voice helping them pinpoint a little more accurately. “I brought you some necessities to last you until at least tomorrow. Hopefully, you will find them helpful. There is not much, but I checked with some locals for what you would need to eat, Miss…”

“Hera,” she supplied quickly, hoping against all odds that this wasn’t a bad idea.

“Miss Hera. I asked what you could eat, while Kanan, I can guess myself,” they smile was a little too wide, but not threatening in its strangeness. “Hopefully you will find something to your liking.”

“There’s bedding in here as well,” Tsiin said carefully. “And spare clothes. Like I’m sure Mihra said, we are more than used to strangers arriving on our doorstep.”

Hera stepped forward again, letting Kanan take his time. Whatever he was reading into the two, it was taking all of his focus. “Thank you, honestly. It’s incredibly generous of you.” She stepped forward to take the bag, surprised by how heavy it was, and how little effort Maar had been exerting.

Tsiin looked between both of them, before nodding .”Alright, well. We’ll let you get settled. Come on, old man, I’ll walk you home.”

The near-human turned sharply, putting their arm out to take Tsiin’s. “You two had best come and visit me soon.”

Now, Kanan replied. “Of course, Sir. As soon as we can.”

“And I shall hold you to that!” Something in their tone was completely serious.

Just as they crossed the threshold, Tsiin twisted back. “Day after tomorrow, kid. Me and the crew will come and get you.”

Kanan nodded, giving her his best grin. “I’m looking forward to it.”

—

The house was small and dark, thankfully cool despite the high humidity outside. It almost reminded Hera of the buried houses on Ryloth, chasing away the burning sun and the impending dessert by blocking out the sunlight that most humanoids were desperate for.

Kanan, she knew, hated it. He’d told her often enough in the week they’d been based on Eso. Something about the lack of natural light, and the strange feeling of being half-buried in clay and hay walls.

Still, Hera had forced him to stick with it, pushing through the wobbliness in her right thigh as she ran more whitewash across the peeling wall. One of the neighbours had given it to them, with instructions to paint their new home before the peeling paint cracked through to the wall and the smell of dung crept from its prison.

She hated painting, had since she was a child, but even Hera had to admit there was something nice about painting walls. There was no precision to it, covering such a large space in a single colour, but she could still see where she’d succeeded to cover it.

It was more than a little satisfying.

The twinge in her torn rib muscle reminded her not to lift her arms too high, but there was no way she could balance on one of the stools they’d found. The wound in her leg was healing quickly, but it had been a nasty shot, with metal hooks digging into her leg before she’d had a chance to think. Even now, weeks later, it twitched and ached whenever she put weight through it.

Taking a deep breath, she hobbled over to the mats they’d been using as a bed (two of them, layered over each other for some comfort, even if it meant sleeping next to each other). The drop to the ground was further than she would have liked, her leg giving out halfway as she hit the mat with a thump.

At least, she mostly made it onto the mat - before decided that was far enough. The mats themselves weren’t thick enough to hold her at an uncomfortable angle, even half hanging off them, and moving much further would take more energy than she had. Pausing there would work which better

Hera reached for the comm tucked into the waistband of the shorts she’d claimed from Kanan (she tried not to think of them as underwear, because they weren’t - he just slept in them). They were easier to move in while she renovated the space they would be living in for the next few weeks at least.

“Kanan?” she asked carefully, listening for the telltale bzzzzz-click to say she’d connected. “Make sure to get eggs for tonight as well.”

A laugh came from the other end, covered in static but completely Kanan. “I know, Hera, I’ve already got them.”

“And the vegetables I asked you to get?”

—

Kanan stared down at the pile he was carrying. “Okuru, gulalung, solum and greens.”

“And the annuum?” Hera added, the lecture obvious in her tone.

“Of course,” he lied through his teeth, doing his best to sound exasperated. “How could I forget?”

The sigh on the other end of the line made the comm crackle unpleasantly. “Just remember to pick them up before you come home. And the persipan. Can’t make sweet curry without them.”

“I know, I know, you tell me often enough.” He absolutely did not know, they had never discussed this, but there was something about admitting that that felt like it would blow their cover. After all, the people of this community had decided they were an established couple, and he wasn’t about to make them question that.

He could hear Hera moving around on the pallet they’d been sleeping. It creaked if you moved to hard. “Can you get some alata as well? I fancy some. We can cook them with porridge in the morning.”

It had been way too long since they’d eaten fresh fruit and vegetables instead of the rations they mainly ate while travelling, and the first time they’d had a steady income in even longer. He was already heading back to the market anyway, so he might as well.

That didn’t stop him filling his voice with exasperation, the fake tone he used for chores he would do without her even asking. “Of course, your highness, I’ll get you what you want.”

A hand reached out, catching him around the back of his head. “Wha- hey!” He spun around, face to face with a fairly old Nagai, who had already caught him at their market stall that morning. “Maar?”

The comm in his hand crackled. “Kanan?” Hera’s voice was filled with concern.

Maar’s eyes were greyed over with cataracts, but they still landed on the comm. “Apologies, I have interrupted you. Continue.”

Kanan watched them carefully, not sure how to take this interruption. Still, he returned the com to in front of his mouth. “Don’t worry, Hera. It’s just a friend being a pain-” Beside him, Maar laughed as if that was the best joke they’d ever heard. “I’ll be back soon. I’ll speak to you later.”

“You’d better, Jarrus, or you’ll regret it.” The comm pinged once more as the connection was severed. Immediately, he spun to the Nagai.

“Really?”

“You shouldn’t complain about your partner, Kanan Jarrus. She is trying her hardest to keep her spirits up while shut inside.”

Of course, Maar knew nothing about why Hera was shut inside, past that she was unwell. That was a lie they kept spreading - not that it was completely a lie, just an oversimplification.

“I know, Maar,” Kanan said with a shake of his head. He knew she was struggling, but what else could they do. She could barely walk, never mind anything else. “She’s trying to keep herself busy, painting the house while I’m at work, but- OW!”

This tap on his shoulders was barely a tap. “Kanan Jarrus! You should be more careful. Your wife-”

“Partner,” he shot in quickly, trying to stop that instantly.

Maar nodded almost immediately. “Your partner is in a delicate position.”

Something clicked in Kanan’s mind, that perhaps telling everyone Hera was unwell would end badly for them both, long term. “No, no, she’s not that kind of sick. She’s just making sure to give herself plenty of time to rest.” Then he laughed, brushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Besides, I’m not sure I could get her to stop if I tried.”

The Nagai seemed to consider this, before nodding again. “Still. She should not exert herself, no matter how tempting.”

“Try telling that to Hera,” Kanan continued to laugh.

They arrived back at Maar’s stall, which they had left completely unguarded while they wandered off to… hopefully do something other than following Kanan, but he honestly couldn’t be so sure.

Each of the shelves and crates was practically overgrowing with local fruit and foraged roots, along with cheaply imported items. The whole place smelled like overheated sweetness, with a side of acidity.

Maar didn’t say anything as they placed food items into Kanan’s arms, and the robe bag they had given them on the first day that had arrived there.

“No, Maar, we don’t need any meiloorun you’re fine, or any eesu, I’ll be getting some from work later this week, I don’t have the money to-”

Maar shook their head. “Take them, from me to you. I have seen many like your partner here, and fresh food is always good. After all, she will need her strength, and you will need to be prepared. The next generation are always particular in their wants.”

Kanan blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

Maar watched him carefully. A few skinny black braids falling in front of their eyes before they spoke again. “Apologies. I assumed you already knew - it has been the talk of the town for the last few days.”

Thoughts swirled in the back of Kanan’s head. Yeah, okay, the town wasn’t that big - maybe a few hundred people maximum, and most of them lived identical lives to all of the other’s around them, so gossip was a bit of a thing.

They were meant to be laying low.

“That… Hera is pregnant?”

Maar nodded as if that was obvious. “Of course. That is why she is in seclusion, yes? Not a practice I would use myself, but I know many species - including Twi’leks, she is a Twi’lek, yes? - use them as standard practice.”

The townspeople thought Hera was pregnant. They had taken the fake relationship between the two alongside Hera’s ‘illness’, and decided that meant they were going to be parents.

It took a few seconds, and a few deep breaths, for Kanan to pull his thoughts together. “No, no, she’s… she’s not in seclusion, Maar, she’s just more comfortable at home.” Maar gave him a look of complete disbelief, and Kanan made himself press on. “She has an injury to one of her legs that’s playing up.”

They nodded as if a grave secret had finally been explained. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be up and walking in no time. Just make sure you get her the food she has requested - the body knows what it needs better than we could ever understand.”

All Kanan could do was nod. If Maar wasn’t going to understand that Hera wasn’t pregnant, he wasn’t going to push it. Stars, he couldn’t even make himself think about it fully.

He handed over the credits to pay, Maar handing him back the chunk that would have covered the extra fruit. Kanan didn’t bother arguing, quickly taking his leave and ending their conversation abruptly. The Nagai wasn’t at all putout.

It was only when he was sure they were out of earshot that Kanan felt safe to react. “Shit.” At least Maar had covered Hera’s requests - he wouldn’t have to face anyone else that day. “Shit.”

—

“You didn’t tell him I wasn’t?”

Hera stood with her hands on her hips, poised like she was ready to fight. She had him quite literally cornered, standing in the centre of the room while he was sat on the bed.

“I told him you weren’t secluded, I just didn’t specifically say you weren’t pregnant.”

It had seemed logical at the time to let the cover the town had invented for them fly, but Hera was taking this much worse than Kanan had thought she would. He’d assumed that he would come home, explain what had been said, and they would laugh about it - but, no, Hera was taking personal offence to it.

She threw her hands in the air, lekku barely bobbing behind her. “That’s the problem! You should have just said I wasn’t, corrected him before it went any further.”

Kanan shrugged. He wanted nothing more than to pull his knees up to his chest, but he’d been trained better than that. “Does it really matter? They’ll work it out soon enough, once you’re well enough to wander around and they realise you clearly aren’t pregnant.”

“They’re just going to assume I’m not showing yet,” Hera added almost too quickly. “Or worse.” Her voice cracked as she said that. Then she shifted, dropping onto the mat beside him. Her head fell into her hands. The defeat in her voice was obvious “I don’t want to be involved with this, Kanan.”

Kanan shifted himself to put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Hera. I didn’t think about the impact this would have - to be honest, I’m not sure I even thought. I was so caught off guard, I’m not sure I was planning anything.”

Hera made herself breath, lekku still unnaturally calm. “I know.” She sighed, pushing herself further forward. “I know you didn’t mean it, I just… I don’t know how to deal with that.” There was another pause before she let out a frustrated, grumbling sound. “But I don’t know how we get out of it without sounding awful, especially with people giving us free things because they think I’m pregnant!”

He nodded, looking towards her carefully. “We could always let them have their rumour. Leave before they realise you’re not showing because you’re not actually pregnant.”

“That’s a terrible idea,” Hera said quickly. “We’d be breaking their trust, making them think something about us that we’re not. It’s one thing to keep saying ‘partners’, it’s another to actually commit to that.”

“But you’re considering it.”

“Yes. Yes, I am.”

Everything dropped away for a moment, except the bubbling of the curry over the fire. It smelt deliciously spicy and sweet, filling the room around them.

For the first time in a long time, Kanan wondered if he should meditate.

He immediately pushed that out of his brain.

Hera sat up a little straighter. “ Can humans and twi’leks even have children together?”

“I mean, yeah, of course they can?” Kanan couldn’t help the question in his voice, wanting to know how he knew that when she didn’t. “I’ve never met any properly, but I saw plenty of blended families when I was growing up.”

Her body stopped moving, even though it barely was in the first place. For a single breath, she was just looking at him, and he was looking at her, and something around them shifted.

“I’m never letting you near me again,” she said finally.

“What?” Kanan huffed, gesturing towards her where she stood in front of him. “I’ve never even been near you! At all! What- I- You-” He took a deep breath, staring towards the shuttered windows. Hopefully, no one could hear them. “Look. If it bothers you that much, I’ll start correcting people.”

Hera sighed, flopping back on the mat as if she’d given up. She tried to hold back the wince, but Kanan still noticed. He didn’t comment.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you shouldn’t. Start correcting people, I mean.” She didn’t look completely convinced, but something must have done it. “It might be easier if they think I’m staying at home because of morning sickness. We wouldn’t have to explain why it’s taking so long to recover from a minor injury.”

“Do you think we can pull it off, though? No offence, but we’ve known each other for - what, a year? Do we know each other well enough to pass for a couple who would be having a kid together?”

Hera shrugged where she lay. “I don’t think it matters, Kay. Not every couple is physically affectionate in public - some aren’t affectionate at all. Hopefully no one will notice.” Then she laughed, bright and filling the room. “Besides, we wouldn’t be fake dating, we’re just… not correcting their assumptions. It doesn’t mean we have to actually pretend we’re together.”

Kanan hummed to himself, trying to find the line in his head. It would be incredibly difficult to find the line where people would just accept their relationship, and not ask any questions.

“So we have… what? Two, two and a half months here then?”

Hera nodded. “That would be the plan. We can probably go for more if we need to, but let’s aim for that.”

Two and a half months. Just two and a half months.

He could probably manage that.

[gdotsand]

Que sera, sera

Pairing - Armitage Hux x Reader (Modern Au) 

Summary - Coming home for Christmas with bad news is nerve wracking, but coming home to you is all he needs. 

Word Count: 2,700 (ish) 

Warnings - Nothing, I wrote something without the word fuck in it so y’all should be proud 

A/N -  Well, this whole lockdown situation is getting to be a little bit. So I did a thing! This might be slightly self indulgent but I just, i’m soft for husband Hux and I love him and wanna protect him. So I guess that’s where this comes from at almost 6am. 

It was late when Armitage arrived home. Granted, it was always late, very rare was it to see your husband walk out of the office earlier than around 7:30 pm. Yes, he always made exceptions for birthdays, ballet performances and the like (even if there was the odd missed violin recital but to be quite honest if you heard another kid old play twinkle twinkle little star again you were going to lose it yourself, so you couldn’t quite hold a grudge for his absence for too long).

Armitage always made time for the important moments, however, the memories that when he was old and grey, he could look back on wistfully and remember a time when he loved nothing more than coming home to his girls. Especially on Christmas eve. Because unfortunately, there was always a small part of his brain that knew kids grow up and go off to university and he wasn't yet ready to wish for the fantasy of having you all to himself again. Just as he had as a younger man. When there were no hints of grey, when he wasn't such an important partner at the firm, his name never gracing an office door. An all together simple time. Armitage was finishing up his law degree and you were halfway through your own in English Literature and everything seemed to be possible.

Your lives could have taken you anywhere, you could have done absolutely anything and boy did you take that as a challenge. Never once taking for granted the memories that made their way into photographs that now littered your house. Filled with bright smiles and younger faces, without laugh lines and any sign of sleep deprivation or hesitation of any kind. Vacations and trips captured and kept within trinkets you had collected on the way, sat on bookshelves and kitchen countertops as though they weren't a lifetime ago.

He took a moment stepping out of the cab into the stark white-covered streets, the bitter coldness of the snow seeping through the very sole of his dress shoes making his teeth chatter together just a little bit more as he watched the soft glow through the front window.

He half expected to see the house in darkness and have to unwrap his various layers whilst holding onto the substantial pile of paperwork that was nestled firmly in the crook of his arm without a single shred of light and he was almost positive if he knocked over the fern to the left of the front door one more time you would kill him. So, he let himself, there at the bottom of the driveway, watch the gentle flicker of a clearly dying down fire and thanked the stars that he would not have to babble out apologies whilst cleaning soil of the tiles once more.

It's at least a minute more before he completed his journey home for the holidays, pushing through the front door as he shook the soft white flakes out of his slicked-back hair, damped at the ends by the elements. The snow melting away before it even had a chance to settle on the floor.

Firstly, his scarf, unwrapped from around his neck and placed on the hook closest to the door, then his coat and suit jacket, shrugged off his shoulders however caught in firm hands numbed from the cold before being placed on the same hook.

Armitage was always methodical, routine centered at the very core of every action he made, something from his childhood with a military father that he just could not shake for the life of him. Everything had a place and every place had a thing. Which is why he toed off his shoes firstly left and then right, never right then left, and lined them up with yours on the mat by the door.

It truly did smell like Christmas, soft notes of cinnamon and vanilla somehow not drown out by the overwhelming pine and firewood and the scent filling his senses as he padded his way into the living room. Nimble fingers rolled up the tight sleeves of his once crisp white shirt exposing strong forearms as he called out your name softly, it was dangerously close to midnight after all. All of this before catching sight of the bundled up trio. All softly breathing, light snores falling from your eldest's (if only by 18 minutes) open, drooling mouth as she clutched her tiny hands into your jumper. A spray of bright red ringlets fanned out over your chest and she slept deeply.

Of course, they had his hair, as if some higher power was adamant that everyone who laid eyes on the girls needed to be reminded that they were Armitage's pride and joy. When the twins were born they were completely bald, not a single hair graced their head and you mostly overcompensated by colorful headpieces and bows and then they got older only for bright red ringlets to form after a few months and Armitage couldn't have been happier.

Soft blue eyes fell to your youngest, tiny thumb firmly pushed into the roof of her mouth as she used your hip as a pillow. All rosy-cheeked. Her other hand gripping onto a stuffed bunny's ear with more force than you would think a 6-year-old was capable of.

Finally, he looked over you from head to toe. From the fuzzy socks still encasing once cold toes, to the book that now lay ignored against your stomach. Of course, you were reading 't'was the night before Christmas', you had read it to them every single year since they had been born and although the book which was once a gift from your own mother to you now had a broken spine and dog eared corners you could never bring yourself to part with it. You'd always say that most loved books were battered, tear-stained and torn in places but treasured none the less.

It was only as he plucked the glasses from falling off the tip of your nose that you woke with a groan, only cracking one sleepy eye before being met with your husband's gaze.

You hummed a greeting as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss against your brow.

“They really wanted to wait up for you” you gestured with your only free hand to the small bodies entangled in your limbs to which Armitage just gave a soft huff. “long day?” you asked, all soft in the eyes just happy to have him home.

"Something like that, we should probably untangle you from these two" and he ruffled the curls on top of Fliss's head before gently prising her sleeping figure away from you and into his arms before she started to stir awake. Armitage shot you a look of panic, thinking he had made an absolutely terrible mistake and awoken the sleeping dragon as it were. However, Fliss just buried her nose further into her father's neck, smacked her lips around slightly and once again became a dead weight in his arms. You huffed out a chuckle and Armitage exhaled dramatically enough to get the point across before turning and making his way upstairs.

You followed behind, carefully lifting your youngest to be placed against your chest before following closely on his heel.

After you respectively flicked off nightlights, placed gentle kisses against cheeks and whispered wishes of sweet dreams, bedroom doors were closed and the real work would begin. It took around half a second, your hand still clutched around the metallic knob before you felt your husband's palms run around your waist, resting his chin right on top of your head.  Needy fingertips making themselves known against your hip bones. He wasn't a man with a lot of words, not really into small talk, Armitage was always a man of touch. To be honest, it's all he needed to get by, there was nothing that man could say that could not be conveyed through the smallest of actions.

You know somethings playing on his mind, however, you know there’s a pile of paperwork and documents on the sideboard by the door with confidential, bold and red spread across the top page because you eyed it on your way up here. But you’re also aware that the grandfather clock at the bottom of the staircase has informed the pair of you that time has steadily crept past midnight and into Christmas Day and this conversation isn’t one for this very second.

So he breathes you in for a moment longer than necessary and lets you pull him back downstairs and into his office.

He didn't use it all that often to be quite honest but it still housed dark woods and floor to ceiling bookshelves all the same. Still had his favorite wedding photo set in a golden frame, it's not his favorite for aesthetic reasons.  No no, it's his favorite because every time he sees you in that white dress, arms draped around his neck, cheeks rosy from one too many glasses of champagne it really hammers home the fact that he found such love and stability in you.

It's only then that he spots the mountain of presents that need to be arranged around the tree. Golds and rich browns of wrapping topped with any kind of bow or decoration you could think of and he side-eyes you from the corner of his vision.

It was cliché that you always said you 'aren't going crazy again this year' and yet there was always an abundance of gifts, always cookies in the treat jar that sit on the counter, always some form of chocolate or candy piled into a cheesy decorative bowl you would never part with and most importantly always a good bottle of scotch hidden at the back of the drinks cabinet, only to be opened once the clock struck midnight and there was no more preparation to do.

You know what he's thinking as you move across the room and start gathering boxes into your arms, careful not to tread on anything that may have fallen from the pile that you look up and say "next year, next year I promise I will" and Armitage just rolls his eyes, smiling whilst he does and moves to help you gather everything together to take into the living room.

You're carefully filling the last stocking hung high on the fireplace, and the familiar squeak of a cork leaving a bottle almost brings you out of a trance. Before you can fully acknowledge how tired you are a rocks glass is being pressed in your hand. You take it, looking up at your husband with an all too knowing face, he's trying his most damn to find words in the back of his throat that just won't seem to string together. You bring your face close to his and whisper a soft 'Merry Christmas' against pink lips before pressing him into a kiss.

The sentence is bearly audible but the kiss not quick and it's not lacking in any form of understanding or love, and it's definitely not simply out of habit. You did this a lot, whenever something plagued the back of his mind you would simply result in kissing it out of him, and Armitage, always the man who firmly believes that actions speak louder than words, lets you.

He lets you with all the enthusiasm in the world.

"Ren's taking over from Snoke, he's out, there are going to be newly named partners" came out all at once, when you pulled away in an attempt to catch your breath and in all honesty, the confession did nothing except knock the wind right out of you. All together you thought it would take a little more coaxing, a little more of the brown liquid burning his throat before he fully let go of whatever was bothering him.

You take in his creased brow and watch as a half sigh half huff passes through his lips. You're all too eager to find out what this means, what this means for the firm, for him, for you and the girls and the only thing you can do really is rub a small pattern on his shoulder and let him spill out every bit of information he has. So you offer him some expression close to pleading and slowly take a sip of your scotch.

"He wants me to head up the London office full time, he says he's going back to New York. Something about tensions in the family, I didn't really press for too much intel. I don't really think it's my place" and he punctuated his continuation with another sip.

You hum something that vaguely sounds thoughtful to his ears, really just trying to let more time pass so you can gauge his opinion on the situation. It's not hard, from the grip on his glass to the strands of red hair that is no longer slicked back but messy because hands have been raked through the locks over and over again. He's indifferent, as always, this isn't his normal shade of indifference. It's careful and it's still trying to be calculated because you can quite frankly see the cogs in his head turning ever so slowly. but You press.

"Well, how does this affect us"

He pauses and a small smirk plays against the corner of his mouth, it's small but its there and you focus on that before he explains. "It means that my name, our name, will be above the door"  A beat. "next to his". Its information that has you whistling on a downward key and mouthing a 'wow'.

Your tentative about your next question, not because you're afraid of the answer, because you know what being a named partner at such a big firm will mean. It will mean that his schedule will be wilder, his business trips longer and stress levels too boot. You know all of these things but his eyes, those ever so muted blue eyes are saying more than his mouth could ever speak because he's staring at you carefully, almost as if he's trying to anticipate the worst possible reaction his brain could come up with. So you decide to put him out of his misery and lay it all out there.

You're trying not to let the partial sadness be shown in your own delicate features in the soft lamplight but evidently, it's not working.

He's instantly reaching his hand in search of yours, instantly needing your soft warm skin to ground him into the moment because he knows he's about to break your heart. Because from his perspective taking this position means leaving the only thing he loves in this world without him. It means that he will miss things, he will be so late home that the house will be in darkness and he will knock that damn fern over. He knows this. But part of him, the small piece of him deep down that craves the power his new position will come with wants him to accept blindly and ignore the fact that you will wake up next to a cooling dent in the bed and fall asleep with the same empty pillow next to you. He knows, Armitage knows that this would be good for business, he knows it would be good for the family's future in the long run but right now it's tearing him in two practically in front of your eyes.

So you adjust your gaze, run your soft thumb over the back of his hand and press another kiss to his lips. With the same message as always. Unweaving support, unconditional love and a fierce commitment to your family that's etched into the very DNA of you.

His gaze softens slightly, and he knows. Knows in his heart that all of it will be okay when you look at him like that when you kiss him like that.

And just in case he's wondering, you add your trademark saying to seal the deal.

"Que sera, sera"