everyday i lament the fact that i joined the game late because i couldn't pull on the cat butler banner or tc-22. THE CAT EARS AND WOLF CUTS HAUNT ME EVERYDAY. I WANT THEM SO BAD. I HATE THIS GAME.
I understand your pain…i too grieve the ownership of kitty LIs
Sometimes ill watch the cards on YouTube but everytime i see people do the remix kindled (i forgot the word) and they put cat ears on them in other cards i feel so jelly becausr that should be me!! Holding your hand!! That should be me!! Making you laugh!! That should be me!! This is so sad ☹️
BUT WE SHALL NOT LIVE IN SADNESS ANYMORE!! Allegedly its having a rerun, lets save up so we can have r3 on all of them!! Speaking of r3 do you have any r3 cards? The highest ones i have are r1 but its standard sylus and zayne cards :p
EXTRA EXTRA READ ALL ABOUT IT CALEB’S IN HIS FEELINGS AND HE CAN’T GET OUT OF IT…
Sypnosis: Caleb x non!mc — you find out he only used you in this marriage of three, and only had a child with you to prove to the world that he, Caleb Xia, had moved on. 7k words. Warnings: HURT NO COMFORT no seriously, x reader is a stretch. mentions of pregnancy, birth and cheating. selfish caleb. i like exploring his ego. A/N: Sorry for the wait. I smoked 7 cigs in the process of writing this (working through my 8th now as I do the formatting). this stemmed from a little ask that was just too angsty to write a simple blurb on. highly suggest listening to mitski while reading this/earrings by malcolm todd (of which the title originates from) for the maximum angst experience.
There were three of you in this marriage, so naturally, it was a bit crowded.
Part of you felt unbelievably happy to be at the altar with Caleb Xia, yet another part of you couldn’t ignore the nudging feeling that something was very wrong with your husband-to-be.
To the spectators of the wedding, Caleb seemed perfectly composed. Not that most of them would know him any better than you did of the man you were about to dedicate the rest of your life to. The audience of the simple wedding at the courthouse consisted of your family and friends, and for Caleb…well, the only three people who he invited were Gideon and…
And her. MC. Of course.
You’ve always had an idea of who she was. It was hard not to acknowledge the woman your husband was obsessed with, is still obsessed with. You knew how much MC weighed on Caleb’s heart, and you could only guess how much that weight doubled when MC, instead of marrying him, married some cardiologist friend of hers. And you could piece together that you were nothing more than a trophy of proof for Caleb to show that he had moved on.
Yet, you still naively believed that, just like any good fairy tale, Caleb would eventually fall in love with you.
But one look into his empty, loveless eyes, as he signed your marriage certificate, told you otherwise. The chaste, brief kiss you exchanged felt like more of an obligation to show to the wedding guests rather than a genuine embrace of a husband and wife.
But then again, you didn’t think you expected much more.
In fact, Caleb looked happier when after the ceremony, MC bounded up with him with a grin, patting his hair and congratulating him for getting married and finally, finally moving on. To which he blushed and replied to her with something inaudible to you.
So from the very beginning, there’s always been three there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the altar (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
Although it was not that you expected for Caleb to start acting like your husband right off the bat (you told yourself he needed time to heal). Not that you expected him to treat you like MC. Not that you never stopped praying that the underdog (you) of the story may prevail eventually. Yet the silence in his cold, gray penthouse, the lack of physical touch between the two of you, the meals consumed in harrowing conversation (you’d have to give it to him for always trying to ask you how your day was everyday), the nights spent so far away from each other, was slowly convincing you that this marriage was nothing but one of convenience. All you did was try your best to keep holding onto the hope that maybe things would change with Caleb for the better.
About two years into the marriage, Caleb surprised you by asking if you could have a child together.
You were shocked he was the one to ask.
Your remembered first attempt at intimacy had gone miserably. You could freshly recall on your wedding night when Caleb had loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom, his chest heaving - though he hadn’t moved to do anything, anything at all - with spots of tears forming in the crease of his eye. After ten minutes of silence, he rolled off you.
‘I— I’m sorry…I- I can’t.’
You had told him it was okay. And you never mentioned it again, so you were coloured surprised when Caleb meekly asked you, as if he thought you might get upset, to try for a baby.
Fortunately for him, it only took about three times before you presented him with a positive pregnancy test. Fortunately for you as well, since each attempt was very awkward, terrifyingly so. You had no idea where you should have out your hands, your legs, if he even wanted your hands on him— and neither did Caleb know what to do with his touch. You’d think he didn’t want a baby by how hesitant he was acting. However, eventually when you did hand him that test with two pink lines, Caleb’s face practically glowed. You had never seen your husband, in all these years of marriage, look so…happy, so much more like his actual age than the cold, gloomy colonel you were married to. For the first time, you saw the sunny Caleb that you only got to know through photos stuck in dusty albums in the corners of your home. He hugged you, kissed you, and laughed in relief.
Relief?
Honestly, you were somewhat relieved too. Usually, Caleb would be away for prolonged periods of time, always muttering about something to to with the fleet, a mission, training, before departing for sometimes weeks at a time, but ever since you got pregnant, Caleb cut back on prolonged duties and stayed by your side if he could. There was one thing you could never complain about him, was that when it really came down to it, Caleb was not a bad husband by the books. He constantly cooks, cleans, cares and caters for you, and even more so now, he’ll drop whatever is on hand at moment’s notice to come running to you if you said you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. Plus, with all the baby essentials Caleb had purchased, they had really livened up the house much more. You watch as he assembles them without the need to look at the instructions whilst sitting on the floor of the living room. As he fusses about with you taking the right supplements, about getting enough sleep…it’s cute. It’s the closest feeling you’ve ever experienced to having a real husband, despite being married for well over two years now.
On a muggy afternoon, you inched out of Caleb’s grasp (he has now found it in himself to sleep closer to you with one hand usually over your stomach if you allow it) and wobbled your way to the walk in closet for some airier clothes. As you sifted through the racks, you accidentally knocked out a few photos from Caleb’s colonel service coat, which fluttered down to the bottom of the closet. Crouching down (whilst you still could), you inspected the photos.
Oh.
It was a laminated photo of your baby’s ultrasound. Not just that, but on the edges of the photo, written neatly in his handwriting in pen, were the words: [name]’s ultrasound appointment on xx/xx/xxxx.
Adorable, you thought, that Caleb carried this around with him. You privately wondered if he would proudly show it off to his co-workers or his underlings. You hoped he might, maybe even boast a little about how lucky he and his wife was. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, wondering if this marriage was finally taking a step into the right direction.
But right next to that photo was that necklace. When U Come Back. You knew very well the story behind that necklace, how MC had given it to him before he left for the aerospace academy. How he used to wear it, 24/7, but had at least the decency to stop wearing it at all times and only keep it on him, after he married you. Yes, at least he had the decency to now never take off your wedding bands. Your eyes glazed over the necklace again. Bitterly, you wondered if he’d ever want to carry a photo of him and you someday.
Nevermind. You dried your eyes quickly. At least in this marriage, both he and you, are getting something that you both wanted, something that you will both cherish more than anything.
A bouncing baby girl.
He wanted your baby. He needed your baby. He wanted to be a father, because he wanted to be a father, a nurturing, loving figure, right? And not for any other reason? Right?
Right.
Two weeks later, whilst tidying up the kitchen, your hand bumped against a bright yellow lunchbox patterned with little apple stickers, long forgotten beneath a pile of documents and papers. Fondly, you picked it up.
In the very earliest days of your marriage, you had done the domestic, wifely thing of making your husband a lunchbox before he departed for work every morning. And he had returned an empty box everytime, down to the last grain of rice being picked clean. You still remember the fuzzy feeling of seeing Caleb smile at you, thanking you for such a delicious meal, how his subordinates had all fawned over the presentation, how delicious it was, how lucky the colonel was to have such a lovely wife…
So why not do it again? You thought merrily, after all, you haven’t made him a packed lunch in a while. Maybe showing up at his work with a delicious lunchbox might perk him up. Excitedly, you got into your car and made your way down into central Skyhaven.
Entering the fleet HQ, you were immediately guided to your husband’s office.
You were about to turn the handle and step in - usually there weren’t much visitors in his office in the middle of the day - but a chorus of loud voices stopped you.
“And to Caleb! The newest dad-to-be!”
“The first of all of us to be a father, actually.”
You heard a round of clinking cups. It must be Caleb, inviting his flight school friends to celebrate the impending birth of your child. At his office though…strange. But it must be because he’s been so busy, he hardly had any time to go anywhere except his workplace and his home.
“Woah…no, no more.” You recognised that as Caleb’s voice. You could imagine his hand gliding over to cover the surface of his glass.
Drinking? In the middle of the day? Seriously? You snorted, hand going down on the handle again, But at least it’s to a good cause. Caleb being a new dad and all.
“But seriously. Here’s also to your marriage not being a total disaster!”
Your stopped before you could push against the door.
“It’s not. A total disaster.” Caleb said, his voice a bit slurred though not completely drunk.
“Yeah, yeah…we all know you had the hots for MC, but she ended up marrying that sexy doctor instead of the big bad colonel, didn’t she, oof—!”
A thud. Caleb had probably slammed whoever said that against the wall. A series of ‘ooohs’ followed.
“Kidding, kidding…”
“You better be.” Caleb dusted his hands off, sinking back into his seat. “I’ve long moved on from MC. I even have proof.”
“Oh yeah? Don’t tell me it’s—”
He pulled out the ultrasound picture that he kept in his uniform pocket, showing it to everyone in the room.
“I had a child with my wife. Can’t you see how much I’ve moved on already? I can have a child with someone who’s not MC. See?”
Tears stung your vision.
So thats what he was using that picture for.
Not for a happy memory’s keepsake, no. But to show the world that he, Colonel Caleb Xia, the yearner, the lover, the oh-so-perfect man…has moved on from his sweet MC.
…
You quickly threw the lunchbox you made away, and fled the building. You needed to get away from him, in that moment. You didn’t want to linger on in this kind of feeling anymore.
…
Time passes a lot quicker, you found, when it wasn’t just you in the house all day. With Caleb by your side (more or less constantly in the final few months of your pregnancy) the days had quickly passed. And before you knew it, there was a living, breathing infant in your arms.
The birth was easy, and again, you were grateful for Caleb’s support (he never left your side in those six hours, plus you’ve heard far too many horror stories of baby daddies bringing their Xbox, or not showing up at all…) though admittedly you swore at him multiple times and eventually snapped at him to wait outside. However, part of you feared he might react to an actual baby, his and your baby, with regret and hesitation. You couldn’t shake the fear that Caleb might feel prejudiced against a baby you made with him instead of one borne from him and MC. But those fears quickly evaporated when you saw Caleb crying, sniffling, holding the little pink bundle in his arms.
Both Caleb and you were overjoyed, though also albeit scared, naturally like most first-time parents. He was seriously dedicated at every step. Again, you’d have to give it to him for being a good dad.
After returning from the hospital, he never allowed you to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby. He never complained about doing the messy work that came with babies, often willingly taking care of all her wants every day as if trying to prove a point. He now even tries to come home earlier and go on less long-distance fleet missions to spend more time with the baby, something he’s never done for you in the time you were married. You watched as he poured his whole heart into being a good dad for a tiny little girl. A perfect masculine figure. Ever so sensitive to what she needed.
But what about what you needed?
Sometimes when you come home after a day out with your friends or a solo trip somewhere, the moment you open the door to your home, you feel as if your entire world is behind that doorway. That despite all the freedoms Caleb has given you in this marriage (the financial freedom, ‘you can go anywhere you want’ , you can do whatever you wish, travel anywhere), your world had drastically shrank to the man sitting in the grey parlour, who wasn’t even facing you.
On other days, he wasn’t even there.
Gone to MC’s. Emergency.
….you weren’t exponentially surprised by the reason. Caleb frequently rushed to MC’s house to deal with her emergencies. At this point, you simply shrugged it off and continued on as you usually would. Only that when you went to the nursery to check on your daughter…
The crib was empty.
Your heart dropped. You had frantically dialled his number. No response. You racked your head for thousands of possibilities. Did someone take her? Did he mention he was taking her anywhere? Did he…did he take your child? Taking off with MC to a place where you’d never find him again? Did Caleb pack up and leave altogether? With your baby?
You told yourself it couldn’t be true. That he’d never do something like that. He wouldn’t. That Caleb is a good, kind man. But to what distances he would go for MC, you had no idea. All you knew was that you’d like it to be you instead of her.
Ten minutes later, you were banging the front door of MC’s house.
Surprisingly, it was her husband, Zayne, who answered.
“[name]? What are you doing here?” Zayne asked, surprised.
He didn’t even get to answer before you shoved past him, calling Caleb’s name.
“Caleb, Caleb?!” Your mind flashed with possibilities of where he could be. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he took MC and drove up to the airport already. But surely not, his car was parked outside, and, and…
There he was. In MC’s backyard, sleeves rolled up, that stupid grin on his face as he…tacked a nail into a piece of plywood, MC hovering over him with a tray of lemonade. You stopped in your steps where the stone of the house met grass, calming down, as you watched your husband beam up at MC, sweat glistening down his muscular arms, droplets forming on his healthy skin, a damp V forming at the top of his t-shirt. Time seemed to slow as Caleb reached up, took a sparkling glass, smiling at MC gratefully, a smile so bright you’ve never seen in all those times you ever offered him something.
“Caleb!” You snapped, finally loud enough that he whipped his head around, MC too. “Caleb! Where’s our daughter—“
Before you could even hear his reply, a beaming MC gasped in delight and smothered you in a hug.
“[name]! You’re here too! That’s perfect, you should stay and have dinner! Ooh, I’ll tell Zayne to set an extra space at the table.” She spun around, shouting into the open patio doors. “ZAAAAAYNIIIIEEEEE?”
She talked at such a fast pace, you barely even got to get a word in on how you didn’t really want to stay for dinner, how you just wanted to demand where your daughter is and go home. In that moment, you didn’t even really care if your husband went home with you. But just as you opened your mouth…
“Aw, pips, there’s no need, I’m almost done with building this part already.”
MC pouted, that little, pathetic, faux-childish pout she always made at her dear gege.
“C’mon, Caleb, staying for dinner is the least you could do for me, after rushing over on such short notice to build Zachary’s treehouse.” She said, referring to hers and Zayne’s son. She turned to you and smiled, dropping her voice to a whisper, “Zayne is so useless when it comes to things like this, and my gege is the best!”
She turned back to Caleb. “And bringing your adorable little daughter too! I’ve been dying to meet her. You know I’ve asked you so many times already.”
You paused. “Wait a minute. You…asked Caleb to…to bring…”
“Yes!” MC replied, “I know she’s only a few months old, but all I’ve been asking Caleb is to let me meet my adorable niece!”
It was almost laughable. The ‘emergency’ that required Caleb’s immediate attention was the construction of a treehouse for MC’s son. You couldn’t help but wonder how many other of these such trips to her house that Caleb took were also something else, something less significant but labelled as an ‘emergency’.
You turned to Caleb, absolutely pissed.
“You. You took my daughter just like that? You took her without asking me?”
“I told you I was going to MC’s—“
“You didn’t tell me you were taking her!”
“I thought you would have assumed—“
Right. Like you should assume, like every other little bit of your marriage, you should have assumed that Caleb’s judgement was right. That your husband is doing his best for you. For this marriage. That you should assume every step he did, he was thinking of you first, and not MC. You should always assume. You’d be happier off that way.
But obviously, you were much more headstrong than Caleb let on. You were no longer the nervous blushing bride that had once optimistically stood by his side.
“You have no right to take her and tell me, her mother, to just assume anything about the safety of her own child.” You replied, in a tone that surprised Caleb so much, that he wasn’t sure how to reply.
MC, caught in the middle, immediately pushed in to diffuse the tension.
“Aw, don’t be like that, my sister-in-law.” She smiled, holding onto your arm. “Don’t blame Caleb, it’s my fault. I asked him to bring the baby.”
“No, no.” Caleb cut in, standing up and putting a hand onto MC’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.”
He turned to you, frowning. “[name], I think we’ve just blown this way out of proportion. No one’s been hurt and you’re acting if I’ve kidnapped someone!”
“You know that’s not what I—“
“Come on.” Caleb gently took your hand, herding you towards the house. “Our daughter’s fine. She’s asleep upstairs.”
He led you past the living room, past the kitchen where a frazzled Zayne stood, wordlessly watching as Caleb led you up the staircase and into the nursery, familiar with the layout as if it was his own house, to where your daughter was sleeping peacefully in their son’s old crib.
“See?” Caleb sighed, “Nothing’s wrong. You got all worked up over nothing.”
You wanted to yell and him and tell him that this wasn’t nothing. That somehow ‘nothing’ always seemed to be associated with his behaviour with MC, and that none of what happened concerning MC in your marriage could just be swept under the rug like that. Maybe that’s how he preferred it, you thought bitterly.
“I want to go home.” Was your only reply.
Caleb’s shoulders slackened. “C’mon, let’s just stay for dinner…”
“I want. To go. Home.”
Your husband seemed to give up this case, and sighed. “Alright.” He replied, “Let me get my jacket.”
Suddenly, both of your heads turned, as you heard MC rap her hand against the nursery doorframe.
“Caleb…can I just speak with you for a second before you go…?”
You wanted to question if she had been lurking outside, listening, but Caleb cut in front of you.
“Of course.” He replied.
He took MC by her shoulder“We’ll just be a minute.” He called to you.
“You don’t mind, do you?” MC asked graciously.
“Sure.” You replied evenly. “I’ll just be in here. Come get me when you’re done, okay? I’ll dress our daughter to leave.”
You saw Caleb nod, before escorting MC down the stairs. You made sure they both saw you close the nursery door.
You mad good on your promise to stay in the nursery and dress your fussy little daughter (who was looking more like Caleb by the day). Five minutes later, gently creaking open the nursery door, you snuck outside, thinking they’d finished their conversation already. But you realised they hadn’t gone far. As you stood on the stairs with your back against the side of the wall, you could clearly hear Caleb and MC talking in the living room behind the staircase.
Their words made your heart beat out of your chest.
“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultrier than before.
“No, she’s just…” You heard Caleb began.
I’m just what, Caleb?
“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”
You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.
“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.
“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently.
They were silent for a long time. Wetness had began to gloss your eyes.
“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, “I have some news for you.”
“Hm? What is it?”
“I’m…” She giggled, “I’m expecting.”
“You’re what?!” You heard Caleb exclaim.
“Shhhh! I said I’m expecting. I’m going to have another baby.” MC replied hushedly.
“Oh wow…congratulations!” Caleb laughed. “Guess I’m ready to be uncle to another mini-zayne, huh?”
MC let out a small happy sigh. “Not quite.”
“What do you mean? Do you think this baby’s going to look more like you, or—”
“No, no…”
A pause. MC gazed up at your husband, clasping his hands.
“Caleb…the baby is yours.”
…
You couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the conversation. You sprinted back up the stairs, going back into the darkness of the nursery. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t help but sob, sob over this marriage which you’ve always held hope to, this marriage which, admittedly, up to that moment you were still clinging onto the hope that things may turn to the better, that your fate might change, that this wasn’t all a mistake, that your marriage wasn’t just a helpless fantasy on your part…
But look at you now.
Crying on the floor of the house which belonged to the woman who your husband was obsessed with. Crying with a baby that was only born into the world to prove a point for your husband, to prove that he had moved on. Or worse, your poor baby daughter wasn’t even born to prove a point anymore, she had only served to prove a lie, a lie that was quickly unravelling at the hands of the man who demanded her existence.
Caleb…oh, Caleb.
Your tears stopped when you heard someone coming up the stairs. Immediately, you dried your eyes and stood up, trying to slow down your breaths and calm yourself down. You refused to face your husband like this. You refused to make a scene. Not now, anyway.
“Ready to go?” He asked, pushing the door open.
You didn’t turn for a second. In that moment, time seemed to stop.
Slowly, you turned to him, your daughter held tightly in your arms.
“Sure.” You smiled, “Let’s go home.”
…
Home. Such a funny word.
As you watched the glowing skyscrapers pass you in the passenger seat, you suddenly felt very calm. The air was wet from rain, and a cool summer breeze had began to sweep through the night. You thought you might feel rage, or resentment, but instead…all you felt was a strange sense of sereneness. You were disappointed at Caleb, sure, but not as surprised as you thought you’d feel.
Which felt worse than being angry.
You’d rather feel that rush of adrenaline, make a scene, throw something at his face and scream at him and cry and slap him, maybe, but no, no, all you felt was a churning pit of emptiness in the pits of your stomach. Your belly empty, while MC’s swelled with life. His life.
“What do you want to have for dinner when we get back home?” Caleb asked you, breaking the silence.
You shrugged, wondering when, or if that all, he was going to confirm for you what you had overheard.
“Don’t be like that.” He nudged you with a half smile, “You can pick anything. Anything at all to eat, it’s up to you.”
You didn’t want to eat with him. Even the thought of sitting at the same table, across him, made you feel sick. The thought of your mouth wrapping around the utensils that once touched his mouth, his mouth that once warmed MC’s tongue. Biting into food prepared by his hands, his hands that once traveled across MC’s naked skin. A sickening scene.
You didn’t want anything to do with him.
“I’d rather you decide.” Came your firm reply. “Since you seem to decide everything that goes on around here.”
Caleb sighed, a long heavy drag. “[name], I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He spun the wheel, pulling into the familiar street. “So can we please just drop the attitude?”
“What attitude?” You asked, fluttering your lashes as often MC did when she wanted to appease her dearest gege, “I really don’t mind what we eat. Why would I?”
“[name].” He said more seriously, “Please. I don’t want a scene. Our baby’s asleep in the back and I’d really like to keep it that way.”
Right, so you’d be fine having an argument if our daughter wasn’t here. Speaking of children…
“MC’s looked glowing today, don’t you think?” You mentioned, sliding out of the passenger’s seat almost the second Caleb rolled the car into the driveway.
He shot you a strange look as he unlatched your daughter from her baby seat in the back. “Yes…she did. Why do you ask?”
You shrugged innocently, unlocking the front door, “Nothing, I just meant that motherhood agrees with her.”
Caleb said nothing in reply. You watched as he carried your daughter inside, not a muscle in his face giving away a single hint of suspicion or anxiety. You knew what kind of man your husband was. It wouldn’t be so easy to gauge out the truth from him, or any semblance of emotion he didn’t want to express for that matter. But you were expecting this.
“Do you think she’s going to have another one?” You said coquettishly, shrugging off your coat.
He couldn’t help it this time. You watched from behind as his shoulder twitched, ever so slightly, for not even half a second.
“I wouldn’t know.” Caleb replied, his tone ordinary, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She and Zayne are a happy couple, after all.”
Your husband would have made a great actor, you thought humorlessly. You wondered if he was tearing himself apart inside.
“Actually.” You raised your hand, smiling. “I don’t want dinner.”
Caleb turned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “What? But you—”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” You nodded, one foot on the stairs. “I’m going to bed early. It’s been a long day.”
“But it’s only—“
“Goodnight, Caleb.”
“…goodnight.”
…
Weeks had passed. You’ve continued to act as if nothing had gone wrong. Caleb went to work, came back from work, cooked, played with your baby girl (who was now crawling all over the place) and went to bed. The only aspect that he felt…off, about, was how pacified you acted now.
You didn’t pepper him with questions about his day anymore.
You weren’t there to ask if he was feeling alright the moment he came home.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand closer to him.
It was as if the marriage had undergone mitosis and split itself in two, as if the straining cell it had once been has finally pulled away from the other half. All that remained was two individuals, standing inches apart in the kitchen, sitting a meter away in the living room, sleeping in beds that felt miles away from each other at night.
Your scents didn’t even mingle together anymore. The air in your home felt stagnant. You were sure that if you hadn’t got used to it, if you weren’t you for a second and you had visited your current home for the first time, you would assume that there were no inhabitants in it at all.
You could imagine it now. The edge of the scissors pulling the winding umbilical cord into a taught triangular shape in the sterile air, about to snap shut, about to separate the two entities, mother snd baby, to deliver individuality and freedom to both…there just needed to be a little push. A little force. Just a little more, and you would be able to forever sever this rotting chord that ties you to this marriage .
Every day, Caleb would come home and wonder what changed your demeanor so much. And you’d wonder when your husband would grow the balls to tell you that MC is pregnant with his baby.
He didn’t on week one. Or two. Or three. Or four. And as you can guess…
He didn’t speak a word when MC posted a gender reveal (week 19) online, the cutting of the triple-tiered cake revealing flamingo-pink insides. Caleb liked that post, you saw.
He also didn’t mention a word when MC announced a baby shower (week 28), which you were also invited to (the gall. can you imagine the audacity?). You had acted perfectly amicable, presenting MC with a hug and a basket of gifts. Caleb had gone to congratulate Zayne. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.
By the time the date hit 30 weeks after you overheard their conversation, you had had enough.
If Caleb was going to be a coward about it, then you would force him to confront the truth.
…
Week 34 was fast approaching. You knew a normal pregnancy would end at about 37 weeks to 40, so when Caleb, suddenly, in the middle of your morning shot up from his seat after answering a call, you were surprised.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
“MC had th—her baby.”
“Already?” You hummed. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Caleb gasped, practically sprinting to put on his jacket hanging by the bannister, “That’s why I need to go see her. Now.”
“No wait!” You stood up, grabbing his wrist. “I’m coming too.”
“No.” He replied. “You shouldn’t. Someone needs to stay home with our daughter. And I won’t be long.”
“No, no!” You chirped merrily, picking up your daughter from her high chair. “Let’s bring our baby. After all, she should get to know her new half-sister.”
You enjoyed watching the colour suddenly bleach from his face.
“What?” His tone was chilling, shaken, almost boyish.
“You heard me.” You fished out the car keys from the little ceramic dish near the front door. “Come on.“
“[name]—“
“I thought you were in a hurry to go.”
“[name].” Firmer, now.
“So let’s go.”
“[NAME]!” Caleb yelled. It was the first time he had yelled at you.
“What is it?” You blinked back.
Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders heaved.
“How long…have you knew?”
“I think the better question is, Caleb,” Your face, he thought, was frighteningly unreactive. “When were you planning on telling me?”
He threw his hands down, turning away from you. “I was going to tell you today. After the baby was born.”
“So you can force me to face the consequences of your actions? If I like it or not? Is that why?”
“No! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He faced you again. “I was going…I was going to…”
“To what?”
“To work something out.”
“And how was that going to end?”
“I—“
“I’ll tell you how that was going to end, Caleb Xia.” You stabbed your finger against his solid chest. “It would end in me having to make sacrifices. It would end up in me in pain, over and over again, just to cope with how you’ve decided to treat me! I will be the one at a loss while you, you will get what you’ve always wanted. Every decision you’ve made was never for me. It was always either for you or for MC! I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me that you’ll ’work something out’. I know you’ll give me the short end of the straw. You already have, for every day we’ve been married. Yet you never realise, because of course in the end whatever happens would work out for you, because it always fucking does!”
“[name].” Caleb breathed, “Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to—“
“I’ll be home as quick as I can.” He said, pulling on his shoes at the door. “And then we’ll settle this.”
You laughed.
“Oh, Caleb.”
You watched as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.
“I’m sure you’ll find yourself right at home.” You said with a smile.
…
“Caleb, come quick!” MC giggled, waving her hand to usher him in. “I just sent Zaynie to go out to the cafe to buy me some lunch.”
Caleb looked over at the bassinet, where a tiny wriggly baby wrapped in white lay. His lips broke out into a smile, a little wider than when he had first met his daughter with you, before gently, very gently reaching into the blankets, prying them apart, to reveal the scrunched up face of his new daughter.
He instantly folded, a finger stroking her wrinkly cheeks.
“Hey there, sweetheart…” Caleb cooed, as the baby made an uncommitted sound.
She was tiny. Wrinkly. But to Caleb, she was one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She was part of him, and part of MC, after all.
Caleb took an awed breath in, as she fluttered her eyelashes, opening her eyes to reveal…
Big, green eyes.
Her eyes were green.
A bright, mocking, hazel.
Just.
Like.
Her father’s.
Zayne.
…
“What the fuck?” Caleb spun to MC, “You said—“
“Well…” MC smiled devilishly, a telltale sign that she knew the entire time, “I assumed wrong, I guess.”
“But you told me it was from that one night when—“
“There’s no way I could have conceived her with you from just one night, compared to how many times I’ve fucked Zayne around the same time.” She noticed Caleb wince in uncomfort at the mention of her activities with her husband. “You were right. Aren’t you always, gege.”
“But—“
“Caleb, the baby isn’t yours.” MC snapped.
He stood by the beside, shellshocked.
She exhaled out of her nose, smoothing out her blankets. “There is no ‘but’ to it.”
Caleb let out an exasperated breath. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You lied to be about something this important!”
“I had to!” Suddenly, her voice turned an 180 and became a pitiful, little cry.
“Gege…I was trying to help you…you married [name] and seemed to be so upset all the time, so I had to think of a way to get you out of that marriage. And see, now…” She smiled, “She’s out of the picture and will never bother you again.”
“You don’t understand!” Caleb shook his wrist out of her grasp, “I would never have…have put [name] through all this if it wasn’t my child to begin with.“
“Come on, Cay, you’re just being selfish now.” MC picked at her nails, “It’s all for the best. You didn’t enjoy being married to her in the first place anyway. I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of having a kid with her just to prove that you were over me. You’re so pathetic, gege.” She chuckled.
Caleb felt as if he could not move. MC’s voice seemed to become a distant echo, until…
“Gege?”
He snapped back into reality. Caleb frantically began pulling on his jacket, turning his back to MC, his shallow breaths filling the room.
“Gege, don’t go.” She said softly, “It’s all for the best. You’ll still be an uncle to the baby. To our family. We’ll be together again, aren’t you happy about that?”
Caleb’s hand tightened on the door. He turned to look at MC, with the most hollow look in his eyes she’d ever seen him possess. Emptier even than the time she renounced him as her gege.
“No.” He replied curtly, pushing the door open.
“Caleb Xia.” MC barked. “Xia Yizhou!”
For the first time, Caleb didn’t look back to her.
…
Caleb wasn’t sure how many speed limits he broke while making his way home, but from the look of the bumper, he should be expecting a few tickets soon.
He was in a daze as he got out of the car, almost stumbling to the front door of the house, unlocking it.
He was ready. To apologise. To kneel before you and beg for forgiveness.
Anything at all.
To go back to the beginning. To make things right, as they should be between a husband and his wife.
To be a family. You, him and your precious baby, that you gave him.
He opened the door.
The house was silent.
Almost empty.
Empty…
The empty table. The empty living room. The empty bedrooms. The empty nursery. It was as if the house had reversed to its first day Caleb had moved in, where every inch was shrouded by plastic wrap and packed in cardboard. When no life had been breathed into his home.
A home without love is just a house, after all. How long had Caleb been trying to change that?
How long had he stayed, in denial, that his goal had actually been long fulfilled?
Where are the people who made his house a home?
“[name]?” Caleb called out. “[name]? Where are you?”
A prickling feeling creeped up against his spine as Caleb made his way back into the kitchen, where you had the fight just before he left. The plates had been cleared away, leaving only a sticky note taped onto the table.
You finally got your dream. I hope you can be happier with MC and your family with her. It’s all for the best. Love, [name] :)
Caleb fell to his knees.
A choked cry echoed through the house.
What dream? What family?
What had he forsaken to chase after his selfish needs?
(not a request just yapping about a fic idea i had)
xavier waiting patiently for you to reincarnate in every one of your lifetimes except suddenly, for the first time since the reincarnation cycle began, you don't choose him. he's watched you perish dozens of times and waited for you to choose him, but this time, his fear of not being chosen is realized when you fall in love with someone else. he dies from hanahaki because this is the first time you haven't chosen him.
HOW DO WE FEEL ABOUT THE XAVIER ANGST
Misty i swear we were seperated at birth i was genuinely thinking about writing smth about hanahaki disease yesterday…..this is getting creepy
BUT THIS IS AN AMAZING IDEA!!! It fits xav so perfectly, especially bc in his third myth they cuddle in a flower field so in his final moments in the present he’d find a similar field just to feel like she’s there w him/he’s not dying alone i cry misty you genius thats a beautiful idea
I must tag my all xavier knowing mutual @xinghuisknight for their thoughts on this
AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH WRROOF WRROOF WROOF WROOF MEOW MEOW EMOW I WIN I WIN WIN AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH WRROF WROOF WROOF OP I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THIS IS A MASTERPIECE
@meeshrox tagged me for this game on my main blog but I thought why not bring the game here?
So thank you, my love, for the tag and for the opportunity to show my girl.
This is Arya, Rafayel's Cutie. She's a bit light headed and clumsy, and she daydreams a lot. In her naivity, she sometimes let others take the best of her, but when she realizes it, the woman turns into a storm and you better step out of the way.
Her opinion is many times overlooked or ignored, and she tended to share her thoughts less and less because of that, until Rafayel. Fishie seems to be the only one who understands her and she's not ashame to share what's going on on her mind around him.
She loves fiercely, and she will protect the ones she loves until the end. Rafayel is a very lucky bastard 🥰
I might be starting to collect some ideas for a long fic about those two. Let's see if I can pull it through 😬
Tagging some lovelies to join the game if you want: @sweet-evil-trap; @munnmolads @irandial @hachisenshi @whateveritisisfine @raffyfish @flamulas-n-boingfish and everyone else who likes to join! If you do tag me to see your gorgeous girls!
She‘s Like… my younger self since I self-insert much.
She adventurous, spontaneous, whimsical and with her it never gets boring. She doesn‘t like it, to fit in a certain box and is always eager to try new things!
The one thing she‘s passionate about and absolutely devoted too, though, is her precious Lemurian groom.
But she‘s not afraid to tell that Sassy Artist her opinion 🤣 His well-being often is even more important to her than her own, which is why they have quite an equal Relationship to take care of each other 🤭
my mc is a self-insert and a silly & nerdy loser just like me <3 her name is mina. she's very hyper-independent and struggles with letting go of her self-imposed pressures and anxieties. when it comes to others, she's fiercely compassionate and firm about her beliefs—but towards herself? nobody is a harsher critic than her.
sylus is appealing because he respects and supports her independence, but he's also there to help without condescension or making her feel weak. the hard part is getting her to admit it when she needs help. she has a tendency to keep going until she burns out and explodes, like a dying star. sylus admires the fighter in her, but it pains him knowing she won't fight for herself.
i could keep yapping about her relationship with the other guys, but i'm just leave it at sylus so i'm not yapping forever on this post :P
i tried to make her facial features look like mine but i'm kinda ass at character customization so i still tweak her features a bit every once in a while :P
obviously, i don't have yellow eyes. i just thought they looked cool and reminded me of a cat because of the way they seem to glow, so i gave that color to my mc. i don't wear makeup irl but again i thought the golden eyeshadow and thick eyeliner looked so cool i had to put it on my mc <3 i really wish the game had more alt or goth inspired fits im ngl
recently, i had a weird moment of dysphoria where i adjusted my mc's features to look more similar to me (esp the nose and thick eyebrows) and i had this horrible overwhelming dread of "oh my god. i ruined her. she's so ugly now." i realized i was projecting my own insecurities onto her. i only felt she was "uglier" because i made her look more like me. the feeling was so, so strange. eventually, it faded away as i got used to looking at her. now i love her <3
of course, the guys would love us no matter what we look like. plus, me and sylus get to be twins with our big noses and left-handedness :3 honestly, seeing so many people thirst over sylus and higuruma's noses made me feel so much better about my own nose. ultimately, i think participating in the lads fandom and playing the game has been a positive experience in my life. i'm very grateful for that <3
My mc is very unserious and unfortunately only takes photos showing 3/4 of her face💔💔
I main xav and zayne bc i just have a type for quiet guys, this was the closest i could get mc to look like me but her eyes in the game are greenish which is completely different from my pitch black ones but she looks good so it doesn’t matter :3 also can you tell i love the hair from zaynes 3rd myth
tags: 1.3k words, SFW, fluff, zayne x gn!reader, established relationship (dating), drunk zayne being clingy and cute
soju divider by @lariesographic ꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ macaron divider by @dollywons
"I'm really sorry about this," Greyson says sheepishly. The warm light flowing from the windows of the hotpot restaurant outlines his figure with a thin glow. "The drinks were so sweet that you couldn't taste the alcohol in them. I told Zayne to slow down, but he ended up drinking more than he's used to…"
Zayne's face is flushed from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, with a dazed grin on his lips. He leans on Greyson with wobbly legs, swaying slightly. "I love sweets."
Greyson sighs. "We know, Zayne."
He guides Zayne towards you, helping Zayne wrap an arm around your shoulders so he can lean on you instead.
"How many drinks did he have?" you ask.
"Maybe about three or four?" Greyson shakes his head. "Seriously, this guy is way too much of a lightweight…He's been smiling all night. The new interns were terrified."
You chuckle. "I wish I could've seen their faces."
"They're great," Zayne says. His words are slurring together slightly. "You're great. Have I ever told you how great you are, Greyson?"
It's a far cry from his usual eloquent speech. Greyson sighs. "I hope you're not hungover in the morning tomorrow."
"Why would I be hungover?" Zayne asks, genuinely oblivious. "I'm not drunk."
"Sure," Greyson deadpans. He turns towards you to nod. "Thank you again for taking him to your place."
"It's nothing," you say. "My apartment is nearby anyways. I'm sure you have your hands full with plenty of other drunk coworkers to send home."
"Tell me about it," Greyson mutters.
He bids you both goodnight and returns to the restaurant. You walk with Zayne through the night, the streets still buzzing with people and laughter. The weight and warmth of his body leaning against yours is heavy, but comforting. It's rare for Zayne to be vulnerable like this. He's always taking care of you. You're glad you can be the one to take care of him this time.
Suddenly, you feel his breath close to your ear. Zayne mumbles your name. You turn your head to look at him. His eyes are bright with mirth and intoxication as he leans towards you, his nose nearly bumping into yours.
"You know, I've always liked you…" Zayne nearly trips over his own feet as you walk together. You steady him with one hand grabbing his waist and the other gripping his wrist. "Ever since we first met, I've always liked you…I like you soooo much."
"Pfft." You bite the inside of your cheek, stifling your laugh. "Really? I had no idea my partner of many years liked me."
Zayne stretches his free arm out before him in a sweeping motion, like a little kid trying to show off how big they've grown. "I like you this much. A whole lot. So much."
He leans back for even more emphasis and nearly falls backwards. You tighten your grip around his waist, yanking him towards you so he's pressed flush against your side. You're at the entrance of your building now.
"Okay big guy," you pull out your keys, "how about you show me how much you like me when we're inside the apartment, preferably near a bed?"
"I'm not tired," Zayne grumbles. You take the elevator up to your apartment and guide him to the couch, pushing him down by shoulders to sit. He tries to stand, his movements sluggish. He repeats himself in a petulant manner, despite looking sleepier by the minute. "Not tired."
You push him again, gentle but firm. "Lay down. I'm going to take off your shoes."
Zayne lies on his back while you remove his neat dress shoes. Zayne stares at you with half-lidded eyes, blinking slowly. Just as you're about to walk away, Zayne grabs your arm and pulls you tumbling on top of him with a yelp, wrapping you in a koala hug. He squeezes you close to his body on this couch too small for two people.
"Zayne—" You try to pull away, but he only holds on more tightly. "You need to drink some water."
Zayne rubs his cheek on the top of your head, then moves his head down to nuzzle the crook of your neck. "I don't want you to leave because I like you. I like you even more than I like macarons."
Zayne always keeps his emotions hidden away, held close to his chest. To see him like this—so openly affectionate with his heart on his sleeve—melts your heart. You would pinch his cheeks if your arms weren't trapped between his chest and yours.
He whispers quietly into your ear, full of shame. "Please don't tell the macarons I said that."
You can't hold back your laughter any longer. Zayne looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes in the world. "Why are you laughing? The macarons will be sad."
You manage to wriggle your arms free, squishing his face between your hands. "I will take your secret to the grave"—you give him a quick peck on the forehead, surprising him—"because I like you too."
Zayne smiles, bright and wide, relieved by your answer. He closes his eyes. "Thank you."
The next morning, Zayne wakes up in your bed with a pounding headache. He groans, struggling to open his eyes. Even with the curtains drawn, the room feels too bright.
"Morning, sunshine," you tease, setting down a glass of water and some aspirin on the nightstand beside him. "You had a wild night, huh?"
Zayne slowly sits up, grimacing from the pain. He takes the aspirin and finishes the water. His throat is hoarse from sleep. "I didn't do anything strange last night, did I?"
You grasp your chin and pretend to think for a moment. "Hm, not that I can think of." You grin at him. "Unless you count telling me 'I like you' about a dozen times."
Zayne freezes just as he sets down the glass. "What."
"You were so cute with your blush. You kept praising Greyson and the interns. And you kept saying 'You know, I've always liked you. I like you soooo much. I like you more than macarons. Please don't tell the macarons I said tha—'"
You rattle off all of his embarrassing words with joyful glee. Zayne raises a hand up to silence you, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Stop. Please."
"Are you sure? I have plenty of pictures and videos to show you too—"
"Delete them immediately."
His tone is frank and curt, with an expression so grim it would scare off any normal person. The tips of his ears are turning red, though. You can see right through his cold façade.
"Nah, I don't think I will," you reply, approaching him. "What else am I going to use for blackmail?"
Zayne grabs your wrists, looking at you with helpless resignation. "I confess sincerely to you and you repay me like this? What a cruel partner you are."
You pinch his cheeks. "You're adorable when you get shy."
You expect Zayne to give you a snippy retort, something to hide his feelings and change the subject so he can move on from this embarrassment. Instead, Zayne places his hands on top of yours, nuzzling into them softly. His gaze has softened, like chocolate melting on the tongue. "You're the only one I want to show this side of myself to."
He rests his head on your chest, hugging you tightly. You hug him back, resting your head on top of his. "I hope I can see it more often."
"You will," Zayne murmurs with absolute certainty.
Quietly, he listens to your heartbeat. You play with his hair, teasing it between your fingers. The rest of the world falls away. Other responsibilities can wait. In this shared moment of comfort and silence, you're both grateful for each other's presence.
"I'm looking forward to it."
No other words need to be shared.
i thought it would be fun to write about clingy drunk zayne hehe
"There's a saying," you poke zayne's cheek, "that if you work on your only day off in a month your heart turns to stone."
"There's no such saying." he remarked.
"I heard it somewhere so someone must've said it." You were a good friend and you wouldn't let your beloved doctor's beautiful nose stay buried in reports that could've easily gone to someone else if he had just asked.
"I'll be done in a few minutes."
"Few minutes is too long."
He doesn't answer, just lets out a sigh.
You poke his cheek again. It was surprisingly soft for a man who looked like he rarely had time to shave. Another poke followed his nonchalance, then another. Your fingers move again but he tilts his head back, dodging your attack and catches your finger with his hand, bringing it to his lips and biting down on it with his canines.
"Ow ow ow why would you do that?" You retract your finger, blowing air on it.
"You were warned."
"I was not warned. You're so mean, Dr Zayne.” You turn away from him with your best wounded expression. “Hmph”
He shuts his laptop. "Show me. Does it hurt?"
"It hurts here." You point to your chest, slightly to the right.
He reaches over and moves your hand gently to the left, pressing his own palm flat over yours. "Your heart is here."
The proximity made your heartbeat pick up immediately, heat blooming in your cheeks and igniting sparks somewhere lower.
You flicked his forehead with the same finger he bit. "All that studying and you're still so dense about matters of the heart."
He grip tightens. "Perhaps you could teach me then." he whispered close to your face, his gaze drifting to your lips for a few agonizing seconds.
How does one even answer that? So you did the most logical thing—you bit his cheek and muttered stupid under your breath.
zayne x gn!reader, fluff, 0.6k wc, divider by @/miscellaneous-misty
God he's so vexing. He kept lecturing me about my sleeping schedule and screen time for twenty fucking minutes. Like I’m sorry Dr Zayne not everyone can have a boring life like yours where they work their ass off and sleep as soon as they reach home, some people like to binge watch and stay updated on the new trends. Ugh he's unbearable. Sometimes I wish I could just kiss that pretty mouth of his shut-
Is what you said after you thought you hung up his call. You in fact did not hang up and now moving cities is suddenly a very tempting idea.
The urge is especially strong when you're standing outside his office for your routine checkup, staring at his door for an embarrassingly long time.
And before you could even gather up the courage to open it, the door swings open on its own and Zayne himself stands before you. "You're here. I thought you were unwell for how long it took you to open the door.”
“How did you know I was outside?”
“You heels make a particular sound.”
He gestures for you to come inside “Oh. Ahem, okay.” You take your regular seat, folding your hands on your lap. It's alright. He's in a good mood. He probably didn't hear it. You are worrying over nothing. Just breathe.
"Vexing," he said, and your breathing halted.
He is looking directly at you. "That's what some people find me apparently." He opens your files, but his eyes never leave you. "Boring and unbearable" He turns the page with more force than needed. "Interesting choice of words, don't you think?.”
"I can explain-”
"You don't have to."
"No I really should because I didn't mean those words-”
"Didn't mean me to hear those words."
“No, Zayne, I don't actually think you're vexing or unbearable, well maybe I do but not in a bad way. I mean you're a doctor, it's your duty to look after your patients. But as a friend turned patient i’m sometimes frustrated you only talk about my health when there's plenty of normal things we can talk about like-” He's still looking at you impassively and your mind goes completely blank. "Like the weather." You hear yourself say it and wanted to bang your head against the wall but continued anyway, “Or the latest shows, which you would know about if you didn't spend your entire day in the hospital. Or food or literally anything that doesn't include nagging me or maybe… maybe we should also be discussing how you should respect people's privacy, friend or patient and hang up the call as soon as you're do-”
You didn't notice him leaning across the desk and you definitely didn't notice when his lips crashed onto yours before you could register it.
The contact of his lips lasted enough to stop the sentence dead in your throat. He pulled back, his face unperturbed except his ears which were bright red. "You talk too much," he said.
You stare at him. What the fuck did just happen? "You kissed me to shut me up?"
"I'm impressed it actually worked." He looks back down at your file like nothing happened. "Your blood pressure was high last visit. We should look into that."
"ZAYNE, you stupid man! Explain yourself!"
He was barely concealing his amused smile, all while avoiding your eyes by fixing them on your report. "Perhaps I find you rather vexing too.”
SYPNOSIS: caleb x non!mc, except x is a bit of a stretch. snippet of a much larger fic to come
“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultry.
You don’t know how you found it to stay out of Caleb’s business until now. Perhaps it was the blinding trust you had for this man, the strong, reliable colonel who had graciously married you, who had signed your marriage certificate with empty eyes. But deep down, you always knew.
From the day you came home from the courthouse, there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the alter (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best.
That is, until now.
With your back pressed against the cold marble wall, you listened on to the conversation that Caleb was holding with MC in your living room, after an awkward dinner party to which Caleb had invited MC and her husband, Zayne, to attend.
“No, she’s just…” You heard your husband began, an awkward silence stretching over the expanse of MC’s living room.
I’m just what, Caleb?
“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”
You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine.
“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”
You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her.
“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently.
They were silent for a long time. Tears had began to bead in your eyes.
“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, her lips splitting into a wide smile, one hand coming to rest on her stomach, the other intertwining with Caleb’s.
gimme context insanely beautiful reader receives too much attention for the LIs liking
gigi says im ngl this is in order of the one i like the most to the least except sylus and zayne should be flipped :p
tag youre it fem!reader, incl raf xav cal sy zay, fluff, very short, really pretty reader aka you hehe
Rafayel
He already knows your beauty has been carved by the gods, so the attention you receive isn’t a huge shock, but he doesn’t try to hide how much he hates it
You’re constantly stopped on the streets by street interviewers, scouts for girl groups and men who annoyingly can’t take no for an answer
Rafayel can’t always be there due to your schedules clashing more often than not, but when he is there, he’s playing maze runner with you, trying to dodge all the people attempting to strike up a conversation
“Cutie, let’s check out this museum”
“There’s a new photo booth that opened up, we haven’t taken some in soooooo long”
“There’s a cat cafe! Let’s check it out… what do you mean I hate cats? A man can’t have a change of heart?”
Don’t let a man or anyone, for that matter, achieve getting a few words out of you; you’ll have to take care of a sulky fishy for as long as he deems fit
“You got approached? What was their eye colour?..... Why do you remember their eye colour? Were they really that enchanting? Do you even remember mine?”
He’ll cover his eyes with his hands and won’t put them down until you recall every shade in his irises, even after that, his pout won’t fully disappear until you kiss him over and over when you get home
Xavier
Pouting. Instantly.
The woman was walking away after getting your outfit details when you turned around. Xavier was looking at a brick wall as if it had the Mona Lisa on it. You tried tapping his shoulder, but he wouldn’t turn around, even when you asked what was wrong
“Why didn’t they ask me? I could probably tell them what you’re wearing…that’s a teacher bag, right?”
Coach, but close enough
Your failed attempt at hiding your giggles finally got him to turn around, uncontrollably smiling at your laughs, you took the opportunity to hook your arm with his and pull him towards the cafe, apologising for taking away your attention from him
He tries to continue pouting, but your bright smile and eyes that look like they have shooting stars in them make him forget all about what he was upset about
“It’s fine, just don’t let others think they can get close to you. I’m the only one that can, right?”
Caleb
His eye has never twitched so much in one day
You walked out to the living room to a waiting Caleb who was buffering at the sight of you. Your hair smelled like flowers when you walked by him, your skin was glowing, your lips were glossed and plump, and Caleb’s patience was already chipping away the second you walked out the door with him
Apparently, Caleb drank an invisibility potion before he left the house because this was the fifth man who asked for your number when he was right beside you, you politely declined every time and gestured to him to tell them you’re taken
If only you knew it wasn’t your words that made them leave, it was Caleb's death stare that had them stumbling on their own feet, trying to get away
You were confused by their sudden fear because when you turned to Caleb, he had the sweetest expression on his face, with a hand stretched out waiting for you to take it
“Does it bother me that you receive attention? Nah, because I know you’ll never give it back, I’m the only one worthy of your time.”
Sylus
His cocky smirk faded into a small, starstruck smile when you finally arrived at the cafe, and people parted like the Red Sea at the sight of you walking in. He could’ve sworn there were angels playing harps behind you
“Sorry, I overslept. I didn’t have enough time to get ready,” He sighs in awe. If that’s the unready look, he wants to move in with you already
“It’s alright, I ordered for you-”
“Excuse me” A woman walks up to you, shyly stopping you from sitting down. “Sorry to interrupt, but could I get your number?”
You do your usual ‘sorry I’m with the scary guy over there’ and the woman apologises and leaves, you sit down and look up to see his previous smile zip shut and his eyes trying to hide their irritation
“Are they unable to see me? Should I buy a headband that says, ‘I’m her boyfriend, leave her alone?’”
You chuckle, “She meant no harm, plus I’m here for you, not them”
“I know they’re incomparable to me... I’m full of myself? Anybody who has won someone over three times would be arrogant”
Zayne
“Alright, so that’s a vanilla and chocolate swirl soft serve, a strawberry sundae and a chocolate chip cookie dough soft serve. Total is $18. Are you doing cash or card?”
You were lucky enough to find twenty dollars in a jacket pocket yesterday and decided to treat Zayne with some ice cream at the park
“Cash please”, you’re pulling out a note from your wallet when a man holds up the money to the cashier
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it in exchange for a date?” internally, you’re cringing at this flirting tactic, but this has happened enough to build a good poker face, so you smile and politely decline his offer, handing your own cash to the cashier
“No, it’s okay, thank you, though” Your wrist is grabbed by the man mid-way as he practically shoves the money into the poor cashier that’s forced to watch this
He’s about to say some other corny line when Zayne places a twenty-dollar note on the counter, which the cashier takes gratefully, takes the man's hand off of your wrist and pulls you far enough from the man but close enough to hear your order get called out
You’re standing in silence for a minute or so when you realise you never paid for the ice cream
“Sorry for not paying”
“It’s alright, but promise to leave the next time that happens. I can't always be there to help you…you’re that thankful? Maybe you should buy me a second round of dessert to show how appreciative you are.”