#(this happened years ago and i deleted the reply so if you’re trying to find the context u won’t)

[thiefnessman]

sometimes i think people who spend time in certain spaces where slurs are frequently used or reclaimed need to remember that they are in fact slurs that not everyone is comfortable with.

[avocad1s]

Bring Back What Once Was Mine

Chapter Summary: Lumine tells the False Creator some fabricated news. You are confronted by the Prince.

Characters Mentioned: Multiple Characters Mentioned

Content Warning: Cult and Religious themes ahead! You've been warned. I would also say this deals with slight Yandere themes as well!

Reader is the true creator of Teyvat. GN! Reader

Part Three Part Four (You are here!) Part Five

I’ve re-read this multiple times but I think if I read it again I’ll grow to hate it and delete so I’m just gonna post it

Even with the moonlight spilling through the campsite, you could hardly make out the features of his face. His grip on your hands was firm but not tight enough to cause you any discomfort, it didn’t seem that he was going to let go any time soon.

“Oh how I’ve waited for this…. Waited for you.” He breaths out.

You simply stare at him, not saying a word. Had he been following you this whole time? If so, how come you weren’t alerted to his presence?

His smile drops at your silence, “don’t be alarmed Your Grace. I have no intention of hurting you! I just want to talk for now.”

He looks behind him for a moment, as if he were looking out for someone, perhaps Yelan. Once he looks back, his smile and soft gaze return.

His tone is unbelievably sweet. You could feel his hands shaking, and based of his demeanor, you assume it was due to excitement. Even if he was trying his best not to show it.

“I’m Aether.” He introduces, smile never fading.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Your Grace” He replies, “I need your help. Khaenri'ah needs you.”

You raise your brow, “Khaenri'ah?”

He nods eagerly, “I am going to restore your nation back to its former glory, and now that you’re here, I have no doubts that we can bring it back.”

“Wait a minute,” you say, “you’re not of this world, why do you care about some ancient nation from five hundred years ago?”

His closes his eyes for a moment, “you’re right. I’m not from this world, but I’ve been here since that nation stood tall and I got to experience everything it had to offer. Everything you had made.”

He caresses the back of your hands with his thumbs, “Your Grace… when you returned to Teyvat few days ago, we in the Abyss we’re immediately aware of your presence. I tried so hard to find you, and I’m mad that I didn’t find you first. I should be the only one allowed to help you, only I know the truth of this world.”

“The truth of this world?”

Aether pulls you to stand up with him, “I know this may be hard to hear, but please listen to me.”

You could feel the anxiety crawl up your back as you wait for him to continue talking. You’ve been so blindsided by the False Creator that anything else that happened in Teyvat wasn’t a concern for you at the moment.

“The archons are taking advantage of your kindness,” he begins, “your world is becoming corrupted because of them. Teyvat never had this many monsters on it before, and it’s all their doing.”

You pull your hands away from his grip, his eyes widen but he lets go. “I know how it may sound but I would never lie to you Your Grace.”

You cross your arms looking away from him, “this is a lot to take in. Are you trying to tell me that I cannot trust my own Archons?”

He shakes his head, “I would never tell you what you can and can’t do, I’m just telling you do not be blinded because you know them from the past. It’s been centuries, they can change.”

Aether reaches out to grab your hands again, you put up no fight as he laces his fingers with yours and he smiles gently. “Come with me Your Grace. Together, we can get rid of the fake you on the throne and make Teyvat whole again. The Abyss will welcome you with open arms.”

“I’m not letting them go anywhere with you.”

Behind Aether, Yelan was holding a few sticks in her hand, but you could tell she would drop them at any moment if she had to go on the defense.

“You know for someone who doesn’t want anyone to know they’re on Teyvat, a lot of people keep finding you, Your Grace.” She teases.

Aether gives Yelan a death glare but makes no attempt to unlace your hands, “you cannot protect Their Grace like I can and how dare you talk to them like that?

She scoffs at his words, “I’m letting them go anywhere with someone from- what did you say?- oh right, the Abyss. You hate humanity. Their Grace will stay here where they belong.”

He scowls but brings his attention back to you, “it seems that we are already out of time.” He lets go of your hands reaching into his pocket to hand you a particular flower. “The next time we meet, I will not allow anyone to interrupt us… and I hope that you join me in the future.”

He turns around shoving his way past the girl walking off into the darkness.

“If we have to collect fire wood later I’ll take you with me, it’s too dangerous for you to be alone.” Yelan states taking a few steps toward you before dropping the sticks on the ground. “You Grace, just like with the Fatui, the Abyss cannot be trusted. I would even say they are more dangerous, whoever that man was, you should stay far away from him.”

You say nothing staring at the flower in your hand, you recognized it’s origins the second you saw it, the flower was from Khaenri'ah. Was this his way of telling you that everything he said was the truth, that he actually was around before and during the destruction of the nation. You bring the flower close to your chest closing your eyes.

“Erm, Your Grace?”

You jump at the sound of her voice, “sorry I’m just a little distracted.”

She gives you a reassuring smile, “don’t pay any mind to whatever he said. He was probably just trying to trick you and use your powers to destroy humanity.

Yelan kneels down fixing the sticks to build a fire. Even though you nod at her explanation you couldn’t help but feel relieved that she didn’t hear everything he had told you. Trying to explain the fall of a nation that no one should know existed anymore would be impossible, especially since you still had questions about it yourself.

“Here let me do it.” You kneel down using the Pyro element to light a small fire on the wood.

Both of you sit in front of the fire in a comfortable silence, but your mind kept going back to everything Aether had told you, was he telling you the truth? Or should you believe Yelan who said that he just wanted your power for the destruction of humanity.

“You should try getting some sleep Your Grace.” Yelan whispers, “I’ll keep watch over you.”

The overwhelming sense of fatigue washes over you, “are you sure?” You ask. She nods, “Of course, I would never forgive myself if something were to happen while you’re with me and I don’t think anyone else would forgive me either. The last thing I need is two Adepti mad at me. Please sleep.”

With that final reassurance you let yourself relax in the soft grass, the ancient flower Aether gave you laid by your side as you stare up at the stars. You couldn’t help but wonder how many more people were after you. The Fatui, the Abyss, and probably the Archons as well since the Gnosis alerted your presence to them.

You let out a breath closing your eyes. Wondering who you could possibly run into next.

A few days ago, Sumeru City

“Lumine you’ve returned, but you don’t have who I asked for…”

A few hours after Lumine and Nahida split away from the true Creator, they returned to Sumeru City. Nahida entered Irminsul like she said she would and now Lumine stood in front of the False One like before. Yet it felt different this time, if she were to mess up it wouldn’t just be her life at risk, many others were counting on her as well. The real Creator was counting on her.

The Traveler bows stiffly at them, “I have some… news regarding the task you gave me.”

They told their head at her statement sitting up straight in their throne. “Well, what is it? Don’t tell me they got away.”

“No Your Grace, it isn’t that. I managed to locate the individual I told you about. When I told them to come with me I guess they got suspicious that I was going to bring them back here and they took off running. While I was pursuing them, they fell off a ledge and…”

“Are you telling me that they are dead?”

Lumine, who was still bowing, nods a bit. “Yes, I checked myself.”

The False Creator lifts themselves of the throne walking slowly down the staircase until they stood right in front of the girl. They grip her chin lightly bringing her gaze to meet theirs.

“And where is their body now?”

“I pushed it into the river… I assumed since they look like you, no one else should see them.”

They smile, “how smart of you, but I’m still disappointed. All of amazing stories I’ve heard about you and you couldn’t do one thing I asked of you. I’m disappointed…”

Lumine swallows trying to keep her composure, she hadn’t felt this terrified since she had seen the defiled Statue of the Seven.

They let go of her chin crossing their arms behind their back, “now what should I do with you, Traveler? Can I trust you?”

“Yes your Grace! I will never tell anyone about this…”

They nod at her declaration, “don’t worry I trust you, but I can’t help but get a bit paranoid at times. So I hope you understand why I have to do this.”

“Do what?” She asks.

“Guards!” They call out and almost immediately a dozen Sumeru guards enter the room bowing as they await their orders.

“Take her and the fairy away. They’ll be staying in Sumeru for a little longer.”

The guards waste no time surrounding the Traveler pulling them away from the False Creator, Lumine tries to fight them off but there was too many of them.

“Don’t worry.” They say a smirk on their face, “I have no intention of hurting you or your companion, but I cannot risk this information getting out to any else in Teyvat.”

The Traveler is pulled out the room without another word the last thing she heard is the False Creator asking one of the guards to find Nahida immediately.

In Liyue, present day

“Wake up sleepyhead…” a voice sings.

A groan leaves your mouth as you turn over.

“Do I have to throw water on you? C’mon time to wake up!”

You open your eyes and your met with a kneeling Yelan who smiles at you.

“Ah, there’s those beautiful eyes.” She coos, “it’s time get moving if you want to make it to Liyue Harbor before sunset.”

You sit up rubbing your eyes, “you let me sleep through the whole night? Aren’t you tired?”

“You looked exhausted. Don’t worry about me Your Grace, I’ll be fine.”

Yelan holds her hand out to help you stand and you accept rising to your feet. Not without grabbing your flower first.

“Are you going to keep that?” She asks.

You look down at it, “well it is beautiful.”

“Alright,” she hums stomping out the campfire, “you ready to leave?”

You nod, “let’s go.”

Somewhere else in Liyue

The eleventh Fatui Harbinger was looking for someone.

It was supposed to be a close kept secret between him, the Tsaritsa, and the other Harbingers but he had accidentally slipped and told some of the soldiers under his command due to his anxiousness.

That slip up might’ve cost him what he was looking for.

He stares coldly at the few soldiers that kneeled at his feet, they were the ones he had sent to the Chasm.

“Lord Harbinger! Please forgive us!” One of them cry.

“We had no idea someone was listening to what we were saying.”

He scoffs at their excuses, “you’ve heard the saying about Liyue, there are ears everywhere. If you were under the command of any of my comrades they would waste no time in killing you.”

They tense up, even thought their eyes wasn’t visible due to their masks, they made no effort to meet his gaze.

“You’re lucky that I am in a good mood but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Find that woman.” He waves his hand and they take off.

When he and the other Harbingers witnessed the glowing of the gnosis, it had cleared many doubts he had about what the Tsaritsa was thinking.

To clarify, his doubts were about the Creator. Or rather, the False One.

The Fake Creator had been on Teyvat way before Childe was born so as he grew up with his parents had told him all the amazing things they had done.

Then he fell into the Abyss and that’s when he first encountered the idea that the one on the throne wasn’t who they claimed to be. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind putting his focus on his family until he joined the Fatui.

In the Fatui is when he was reintroduced to The Creator not being, well, The Creator. Now it wasn’t something he could just push away, he actually wanted to know if it was the truth or not. The Tsaritsa explained to him that if they collect all seven Gnosis they can summon the real Creator back to Teyvat.

So when the Jester sent him to Liyue to collect Rex Lapis Gnosis, he jumped at the opportunity.

“Lord Harbinger…” a timid voice says, “we had located the woman.”

“And?”

“You were right, they are with her.”

“Lead me there.”

-

They were right. His soldiers were right.

A few meters up ahead he could see them and the woman he instantly recognized to be Yelan. She had popped up on the Fatui’s radar years ago due to her… persuasive methods of learning Fatui secrets from the lower ranks.

It felt as if he was frozen to the ground, he never expected to find you in Liyue. He believed someone else would’ve been the one to find you, but no, it was him.

He felt so lucky, he was going to be the first Harbinger you’d talk to.

-

“…and that’s how I got this jacket.”

You laugh a bit, “well aren’t you a sneaky one?”

“You’re right, she’s always sticking her nose in business that doesn’t involve her.” Childe smiles directly at you as Yelan puts her arm up in front of you defensively.

“I knew we’d run into you, but I didn’t expect it to be this soon.”

Childe laughs, “well I hope you don’t mind me taking Their Grace off your hands then?”

Yelan’s eyes narrow, “Their Grace isn’t something you Fatui can just take as your own. They are going with me.”

He rolls his eyes at her directing his attention to you, “Her Majesty the Tsaritsa has been waiting for you for a long time Your Grace. Come with me to Snezhnaya.”

Yelan looks back at you, “Don’t listen to him. This is the Fatui Harbinger Childe that I told you about. His motives are unknown.”

You look at the Yelan then at Childe.

“We in the Fatui would never hurt our Creator.” He states.

“What does Snezhnaya even have to offer Their Grace?”

“I don’t think that’s any of your business.” He argues.

“Both of you stop fighting!” You say suddenly causing both of them to look over at you. “What does the Tsaritsa want from me?”

His dull eyes light up at your question, “Her Majesty believes she knows where the False Creator comes from. So as soon as you made your presence known, we began searching for you.”

You step closer to him despite Yelans warnings.

“She found out where the False Creator came from?”

Childe nods, “please come to Snezhnaya with me Your Grace. The False Creator is the reason you returned, right?”

“You’re right.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste anymore time.” He clasps his hands together.

You turn giving Yelan reassuring smile, “Yelan. Thank you so much for your help up until this point, and I will never forget everything you’ve told me but I have to go with him. If whatever the Tsaritsa knows is right, that could change everything.”

She nods bitterly, “if you must go, allow me to come with you. I’ll protect you with my life.”

You reach out grabbing her hand, “That’s sweet of you but I can’t. Even if I needed protection I can tell that he is way too powerful for you to defeat on your own. I promise that I will return to Liyue.”

She hold your hand tightly, “alright then. I’ll wait for your return.”

And with that, You leave Yelan alone as you walk off with Childe.

“How are we getting to Snezhnaya?” You ask.

“By boat, it’s waiting for us right outside Liyue Harbor.”

“Right outside?” You raise a brow.

He laugh a bit, “Well people from Snezhnaya aren’t welcome in other nations anymore. It would’ve drawn unnecessary attention us if we anchored at the dock, and I doubt the Liyue Qixing would let us be there anyway.”

You suppose his explanation made sense, he wasn’t the only person to tell you how unwelcomed Snezhnaya was in other nations.

“Your Grace,” Childe says after a moment of silence. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, it’s not like there’s anything else to do.”

He keep walking but stares at you, “what did Yelan tell you? About the Fatui I mean.”

“She told me that you all have done terrible things and how a few years ago you all had an unprecedented amount of power in every nation.”

He hums, “I see…”

It falls silent once more, as you both continue walking towards the nation of Geo.

-

A few hours after you had split with Yelan and decided to join the Fatui Harbinger Childe, you two (and the rested of his crew that trailed behind you) arrived at Liyue. All you had to do was walk across the bridge and you’d be in the Harbor.

However Liyue Harbor wasn’t your destination anymore.

Right off to the side of the bridge was a fairly large sized boat, Childe leads you to the hatch allowing you to step on first then he follows.

“The trip to the Zapolyarny Palace is only a few hours,” He explains, “but you’re going to need this when we get there.”

Childe digs through a chest pulling out a luxurious coat, it was made out of the finest materials Teyvat had to offer.

“One of my comrades had this custom made just for you. Well actually he had way more than one made so no matter who had encountered you first, you would have something to keep you warm once we enter Snezhnaya.”

You take the coat from him, the second the material touches your fingers you could tell how expensive it was. There was an insane amount of care and respect put into making this.

“That is very sweet of him,” you mutter, “I should thank him once we arrive.”

He lets out a sigh resting his head in his palm muttering to himself, “it will only go to his head…”

You want to laugh at his comment but decide you should pretend you didn’t hear him. Looking out to sea, your mind finally fills with everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours.

Even though Childe told you that the Cryo archon figured out where the False Creator came from, you kept thinking about what Aether told you the night before.

Should you trust the Archons? Was the Tsaritsa leading you to Snezhnaya with a Trojan Horse? Or was it Aether that was lying to you.

You try to shake the thoughts out of your head, it would only be a few hours before you know for sure.

An unknown location in Sumeru City

It had been days since Lumine had been thrown into this dungeon. It wasn’t the same place the Sages had put her a year ago, it was probably a precaution so that none of her Akademiya friends found her.

“Traveler” Paimon whines, “what are we gonna do?”

Lumine brings her knees to her chest, “I don’t know Paimon. No one knows we are here, we have no way to reach out to the Creator or Nahida.

The fairy flys around sadly for a moment before her eyes widen, “wait a second! Why don’t you try reaching out to Nahida in your dreams.”

Lumine picks her head up, “you’re so smart Paimon! Maybe not using you as emergency food was a good idea.”

Paimon scoffs, “this is not the time for joking around! And for the last time, Paimon is not emergency food!”

The Traveler moves to lays down on her back steadying her breathing as she closes her eyes. Soon enough, she falls into a light slumber trying to the best of her ability to reach out to the Dendro Archon.

..

“…Nahida…?”

“Lumine…?” A familiar voice says, “I can hear you, where are you?”

“The False Creator. They locked me in some dungeon.”

“That’s horrible, did they not believe you?”

“No, I think they believed me… did you find anything in Irminsul?”

“Yes… it’s horrible… I’ve been searching for you everywhere to tell you.”

“Well, what is it?”

“The False Creator… they were created by Celestia.”

Note: this part took way longer to put out than the others, but I just want to say thank you so much for all the love on this series and for all the follows and reblogs you all have given me. I never expected this story to do so well!! :’)

And I know, I know, many people have maybe Celestia the enemy in SAGAU (be cuz they are) but I just trust me :>

© avocad1s please do not plagiarize or post to any other website

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[irisintheafterglow]

to tell you is too scary (so I'll just say something else)

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺ now playing: lizzy mcalpine - "pancakes for dinner"

summary: nightmares don't usually translate to reality, but you call sakusa for the first time in years. just to be safe.

wc: 1k

cw/tags: gn!reader and post-timeskip!sakusa, nightmare about a plane crash but nothing descriptive, angst/comfort with happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (??), dialogue-driven, he hates everyone but you

note: yayy first @ficsforgaza gift post for @froggiewonder17 !! i tried out a different layout for the top section of this post, lmk if y'all like it! thank you again for donating to help palestinian families, i hope you like this :)) my f4g masterpost can be found here!

likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!

Your thumb trembles over the call button next to his contact, hovering and waiting for some unseen force to make you stop. Your hand keeps shaking, no matter how hard you try to stop it; the ravaged skin of your cuticles is stained with dried blood from your constant picking and scratching. Dread crashes again in a wave and you find yourself trapped under the water, gasping for air that wasn’t being inhaled. With a knot in your lungs, instinct takes over and taps your phone. 

The three ascending notes of the phone dialing his number sound far away and you unexpectedly heave out a choked sob. He’d probably changed his number or deleted yours. Maybe he would simply glance at the unknown caller ID and ignore it entirely, returning to his drink with all his teammates at the bar. You didn’t know him anymore. 

You didn’t know him anymore. 

Your palm slams onto the red circle and you curl into as tight of a ball as you can muster, disappearing into the corner of your bedroom. It’s stupid, calling him because of the first night terror you’d had in a decade. When you were kids, he was always your first call when your eyes flew open. I’m with you, I’ve got you, he said. He guided you when adrenaline turned into anxiety, when the void outside your window was unfathomably dark. He’d stay until your breathing evened into a sleeping rhythm and wouldn’t hang up until your phone died or you woke up the next morning. He was there every time you were drowning, and your soul didn’t know what to do without its safety ring except sink, 

and sink, 

and sink…

INCOMING CALL. 

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You stare at your phone screen illuminating the blankets like a beacon. Blinking once, then twice, you wait for it to disappear like a hallucination or a trick of your psyche. It doesn’t, and when you have half the mind to reach for your phone, the screen disappears. You’d missed the call. Maybe it was a trick of the mind? 

(1) MISSED CALL - Kiyoomi💛💚

INCOMING CALL.

CALLER ID: Kiyoomi💛💚

You’re faster this time, snatching your phone from the covers and swiping the “answer call” button to the side. It’s quiet on the other end of the line for a moment, but he’s there. He always was, wasn’t he?

“...Omi?”

“Hey,” he says gently. There’s faint noise in the background of where he is, sounds of conversations and telecom announcements. Even with the sound of rolling wheels, he’s still clear. “You called.” Fifty minutes away, Kiyoomi imagines you nodding in the silence, maybe wiping a stray tear with the corner of your fitted sheet. “You’re safe?” You hum a shaky mhmm, still unable to force out any words. He murmurs your name, coaxing you out of your tight ball. “I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m safe,” you reply after a breath. Based on your voice alone, he could tell the night terror happened no more than five minutes before you called. “I just–I’m sorry if I–”

“I’m here if you want to talk about it,” he reassures you, immediately shooting Atsumu a withering glare when he tries to dance up to Kiyoomi’s less busy part of the airport. The MSBY team’s international flight was canceled an hour ago, but he was still trying to figure out if he wanted to stay with his teammates at a closer hotel. The present situation felt, literally and metaphorically, like you were calling him home. 

“There was a plane,” you say in a broken whisper. He strains to hear your crackling voice and shakes his head adamantly when Bokuto and Hinata try to join Atsumu’s antics. Now was not the time to fuck around with him. “You were on it, and something went wrong, and it–There was an accident and…I just had to watch it happen. I had to watch it happen and I couldn’t do anything.” Your voice cracks and trails off, making Kiyoomi’s chest twist like a wrung towel. Your friendship was strained after Kiyoomi’s second Nationals, fading completely until there was nothing left when you graduated except photobooth strips from third grade. He kept your number, though, in case something like this ever happened. In case you needed him again or he needed you, he never decided.

“Are you–are you home right now?” Another broken mhmm. “Can I see you?”

“You’re not overseas?”

“I was supposed to be, as of an hour ago,” he admits, running an exasperated hand through his curls and straightening his track jacket collar. A flash of light catches the corner of his eye. Cameras, cameras, cameras, always. He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, continuing, “But, the flight got delayed and ultimately canceled because of maintenance issues. We’re probably gonna have to postpone the game.”

“I’m sorry, Omi.” You hear him shrug in that indifferent manner that always seemed to come down when he was with you. All his walls, actually, came down when he was with you. 

“I don’t care, honestly. My question still stands.” He swallows thickly, begging you to say yes for both of your sakes. When his phone showed your contact photo for the seven seconds you called, it awakened grief in him he thought he’d buried years ago. By all accounts, Sakusa Kiyoomi desperately missed you. “I can be there in an hour. I’ll take a car, I don’t care how much it costs.” 

“It’s–it’s fine, you really should stay with your team and rest,” you mutter, always the selfless one worrying about his well-being. You were too good to him, letting him cancel plans for training camps and tournaments, always letting him go. “I don’t want you missing another flight if it comes up.” 

Too bad that, when it came to you, Kiyoomi had decided long ago he’d always be selfish. 

“Say you need me and I will be there.” You don’t hesitate. 

“I need you here, Omi,” you murmur. He’s gone in seconds–mind, body, and soul. His body acted instinctually, running on nothing else but the sole purpose of getting home to you. With a wad of cash and an Olympic athlete’s intellect calculating the fastest way to reach you, he vows that you would never need to say you needed him again.

Because he’d say he needed you instead.

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[jetii]

Roy. My love. Bestie.

I saw a tag that there was Obi Wan smut in Event Horizon but you deleted it cause it wasn’t relevant to the plot

…*deep inhale*

Can we get

Perhaps

If you’re willing

Maybe

Please?

A deleted scenes bit? 👀👀

Ahh okay so I was hesitant to post this bc I didn't want to give the wrong impression about their relationship and my planned end game. I went back and edited a few things, clarified some other things a few days ago. Decided to post this now as a treat since neither Obi-Wan or Rex appear in this week's chapter. 💙

Even though I ultimately decided to leave this chapter out, it is "canon" and takes place between chapters five and six.

Event Horizon

Interlude: Remember to Lock the Door

Words: 6,189

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, friends with benefits, Force bonds, smut, masturbation, rough sex, cum play, inappropriate use of the Force?, i would not call this a healthy relationship

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Join the Taglist | Masterlist

It's been months since the fight, and you and Obi-Wan have never been closer. The bond between you has strengthened, and the trust has returned, the years of resentment and pain fading away day by day.

The two of you have worked through the issues that led to the rift between you and have rebuilt the relationship into something new, something deeper and stronger than it was before. You've been meditating more, trying to find balance, and while it's not easy, you're slowly learning to control the tumultuous emotions that have plagued you.

And, perhaps most importantly, the two of you have finally made amends.

As the months go by, you spend more and more time together, and it feels like no time has passed at all. You spar, and talk, and laugh, and it's almost as if the last few years never happened. On the battlefield, you move as one, the bond between you allowing you to anticipate and react to each other's movements without a second thought.

There's still a part of you that resents the Council for not believing you, for your fellow Jedi for turning their backs on you, but Obi-Wan has been there for you, helping you to process the emotions and come to terms with the pain and loss. And while it's not easy, you're working on it, one day at a time.

You still have nightmares, and the anger is never far from the surface, but you're learning to deal with them and channel the negative emotions into something productive. It's what you're attempting to do now as you sit in your quarters, your eyes closed and your mind focused on the Force.

You can feel the darkness within you, the rage and the hatred, and you're trying to find a way to balance them with the light, to bring the two into harmony. You've been at it for hours, and while the progress is slow, you can feel yourself getting closer. It's exhausting work, and you're starting to flag, but you press on, determined to make some progress.

Just as you're about to give up, there's a knock at your door. You groan, annoyed, but rise to your feet and make your way to the entrance. As soon as you draw nearer, you feel a rush of familiar energy, and a smile spreads across your face.

You open the door, and Obi-Wan's blue eyes sparkle with mischief, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

"You didn't tell me you were back," you say by way of greeting, your tone light.

Obi-Wan shrugs, the movement exaggerated, and his voice is dripping with sarcasm when he dips his head toward you.

"Well, I wanted to surprise you," he teases. "Since you've been so busy with...what, exactly?"

He gestures at the room behind you, and you blush, realizing how much of a mess it is. There are sheets of flimsi and holopads strewn about, and your cloak is crumpled in the corner, your boots lying haphazardly by the door. You look up at him, and the laughter bubbles inside you, the frustration and exhaustion melting away.

"Oh, stop it," you say, and Obi-Wan chuckles. "You know I've been working."

"Yes, I can see that," he replies. "Working yourself to death, apparently."

You roll your eyes, but the smile stays on your lips. You're glad he's here, glad he's teasing you, and it's a welcome distraction from the heaviness that's been weighing on you.

"Something like that," you admit. "How was Christophsis?"

"You'll be pleased to know we won," Obi-Wan says dryly. He casts a look down either side of the long hallway, then, finding no one, he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The pose is casual, relaxed, and he gives you a crooked grin. "But I didn't come here to discuss strategy."

"Ah." You smirk, mirroring his pose, and raise an eyebrow. "What, then, brought you to my door at such a late hour, Master Kenobi?"

He huffs a laugh. "I think you already know the answer to that."

"Perhaps. But I think I'd like to hear you say it," you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

"Very well." 

He sighs, feigning exasperation, but the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile. Obi-Wan steps forward, close enough to reach out and tuck your hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on the side of your face, and he lets the back of his fingers trace a gentle path down your neck. 

"I missed you, and I wanted to see you,” he murmurs.

"That's sweet," you murmur. Your gaze flickers up to meet his, and you take hold of the front of his tunic, tugging him through the door. "Now get in here. We can't have your fellow Council members seeing you visiting me at this hour. They'll start to think I'm corrupting their precious poster boy."

Obi-Wan snorts, his eyes rolling, but he follows you inside without protest, the door sliding shut behind him. He engages the lock, just in case, and turns back to you, finding you standing a few feet away wearing a coy smile.

"I did miss you, you know," Obi-Wan admits, walking towards you. He slides his robes off his shoulders, letting them fall to the floor in a puddle. "Very much, actually. We could've used your expertise. There were times when Anakin's tactics were..." He waves a hand, searching for the right word. "Unconventional, at best."

"So, the usual, then?"

"The usual," he confirms.

His eyes trail over your form, and his expression softens. You know the circles under your eyes must be dark, the fatigue etched into the lines of your face. He reaches out, running his fingers down your arm.

"You've been overworking yourself again, haven't you?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"I suppose," you shrug. "But I've made some progress. I think I'm getting better."

Obi-Wan nods, and the concern in his eyes is touching. "I'm glad to hear that."

You nod, and his fingers trace back up your arm, over your shoulder, and to your face, tilting your chin up. He searches your eyes, his gaze lingering on the shadows beneath.

"Are you sleeping?"

You shrug again, not meeting his eyes. "Sometimes. Not as much as I should."

"And eating?"

"Obi-Wan," you say, rolling your eyes. "I'm fine. I promise."

He frowns, but doesn't push the issue. Instead, he leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"If you say so," he says, pulling back. He glances around the room, taking in the chaos, and shakes his head. "Do you think you could possibly clear some space? If I recall, there are a few chairs in here somewhere, though I'll admit it's hard to tell."

"Hilarious," you deadpan. You step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him. "But I have a better idea."

Obi-Wan smiles, and his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer.

"I'm listening," he says.

"Well, since I haven't seen you in weeks," you say, trailing a hand down his chest. "I think we should skip the pleasantries and just go straight to the good stuff."

"That sounds like a plan," Obi-Wan murmurs. His lips are only a hair's breadth from yours, his breath warm on your skin. "And just what might that entail, exactly?"

"Oh, you know." Your hand travels lower, sliding down his abdomen. "I was thinking a bit of this." You grab the hem of his tunic, tugging it upward. "A bit of that."

"I'm listening," he repeats, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

You slide his tunic over his head, exposing his muscled torso. Your fingers roam across his smooth skin, and his breath hitches, his eyes closing. He leans into your touch, and his lips ghost along your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'm going to need a little more information," Obi-Wan murmurs against the shell of your ear.

You tilt your head, offering him better access. Your hands move down his stomach, slipping into the waistband of his trousers. You grin when he sucks in a breath, and your fingers brush his growing arousal, eliciting a soft groan.

"Is that what you had in mind?" you whisper, your voice husky.

"Not quite." Obi-Wan's eyes crack open, and they're hooded with desire. He presses a kiss to the spot behind your ear, his lips trailing down the side of your neck. "Keep going."

You chuckle, and your grip on him tightens, eliciting another gasp. You run your thumb over the tip of his length, and he shudders, his hips bucking.

"More," he says, his voice strained.

"You want me to keep talking?"

"No, no," he groans, his teeth grazing your pulse point. "I want you to show me."

You pull your hands out of his pants, and he sighs at the loss. You turn your back to him and move toward the bed, pulling your own shirt over your head. Your breasts are bared to the cool air, and the sound of his sharp intake of breath makes you smirk.

You look over your shoulder, and his eyes are dark with desire, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin.

"What, no quips this time?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"I'm afraid not," Obi-Wan murmurs.  "I think I'll leave the talking to you."

You chuckle, and begin unbuttoning your trousers, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. You kick the fabric off and then turn around, your fingers trailing over the curve of your breast. Obi-Wan's eyes follow the movement, his pupils dilated, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

“Are you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there and watch?"

Obi-Wan takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his gaze roaming over every inch of exposed skin.

“I rather like the view from here, actually."

You scoff and turn away, feigning annoyance. As soon as you're sure he can't see, you let a mischievous grin spread across your lips. You slide your hands over your stomach, dipping into the waistband of your underwear, and slide them down your thighs. You glance over your shoulder, and his gaze is fixed on your exposed skin, his cheeks flushed, and his mouth slightly agape.

"Then enjoy it,” you tease, bending over and sliding your underwear off.

He groans, and the sound sends a shiver of anticipation through you. You lie back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows, and spread your legs. Without breaking eye contact, you let your fingers wander down, slipping between the slick folds.

You moan as your finger circles your clit, the pleasure coiling inside you. Obi-Wan swallows, his gaze fixed on your hand, and he starts to undo his pants. You can't help the smug grin that spreads across your lips, and you pick up the pace, your breath coming in short gasps.

"This is what you want to see, isn't it?" you ask, arching your back and pushing two fingers inside yourself.

Obi-Wan is struggling to undress, his fingers fumbling with the buttons of his trousers. His gaze darts between you and the task at hand, and you can see the frustration building, his patience wearing thin.

"Stop that," he growls.

"Why? Am I distracting you?"

"Yes."

He finally manages to free himself, and his erection springs free, hard and flushed with blood. He steps forward, kicking his boots off, and moves towards the bed. You bite back a moan, the sight of him, bare and ready, making your heart race.

Obi-Wan crawls onto the bed, his eyes locked with yours. You feel the anticipation building, the pressure coiling low in your stomach, and you can’t help but grind your hips down, trying to relieve the ache.

His hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your fingers out, and the whimper that escapes you makes him grin. He pins your arm to the bed, his other hand gripping your thigh.

"I thought I told you to stop that," he murmurs.

"You did." You smirk, your free hand tracing up his stomach. "I didn't listen."

Obi-Wan huffs, and his grip on your thigh tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He moves between your legs, and his erection brushes against your entrance, the head teasing you. You let out a soft moan, and your hips rock forward, desperate for more.

He chuckles, and he moves closer, his lips ghosting over yours. He doesn’t kiss you though, a boundary the two of you agreed on years ago. One of the few things the two of you didn't share, even back then.

"You're insufferable," he breathes, the words a whisper against your skin.

"And yet, you're here," you murmur.

He groans, and his eyes flutter closed, his nose brushing against yours.

"Corruption, indeed."

You laugh, and the sound seems to break the last of his restraint. He thrusts inside you in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The sudden intrusion, the sudden stretch, makes you gasp, and the pleasure washes over you, the heat of his body sending sparks flying.

"Fuck, Obi-Wan," you pant, your eyes squeezing shut.

"What was that?" He pauses, waiting for you to open your eyes. "I'm sorry, did you have something to say?"

"No," you say, shaking your head.

"Are you sure?" he teases, and his lips brush the corner of your mouth.

"Just fuck me, please," you whine, trying to roll your hips, desperate for more. He doesn't let you, though, his grip on your leg keeping you in place.

He chuckles, and pulls back, just enough for the tip to catch on the edge of your entrance. The anticipation is driving you crazy, the aching emptiness making you groan. You open your eyes, and his gaze locks with yours, his expression playful, and teasing.

"Obi-Wan, please.”

He doesn't respond, his gaze still fixed on yours, and you're about to beg him again when he finally thrusts forward, filling you completely in one swift motion. The force of his movement rocks the bed, the metal frame squeaking in protest, and your body arches, the pleasure overwhelming.

"Like that?" he asks, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his lips despite the innocence of his tone.

"Don't be smug," you breathe.

"Me? Never."

You scoff, and the sound dissolves into a groan as he rolls his hips, the angle sending stars across your vision.

Obi-Wan begins moving in earnest, setting a slow, familiar pace. His hands move to your waist, holding you steady, and his grip is strong, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your hips. He moves inside you, his movements languid and deliberate, each thrust drawing out a soft gasp.

The pleasure builds, slowly, and steadily, and the heat in the room rises, the sweat starting to bead on your skin. You can feel your bond with him, the connection between you humming and singing, the emotions and sensations flowing between the two of you in an endless loop.

It's a connection you've both been wary of, one that can be dangerous if allowed to spiral, but one you can't help but give into, to revel in.

The tangled threads of emotion are difficult to separate, the love and the lust, the friendship and the desire, the anger and the pain, all of it swirling together, creating a heady mix of sensations. You can feel Obi-Wan's arousal, and his affection, his concern and his desire, and it only fuels your own, the emotions spurring each other on. 

You're both drowning in the intensity of the feedback loop, the connection amplifying everything, and you can't bring yourself to care, to even try and stop.

His thoughts and feelings are intertwined with yours, and you're not sure where one ends and the other begins. The lines are blurred beyond recognition, the barriers between you stripped away. It's all too easy to lose yourself in it, to allow yourself to seek out the lightness of his heart and make yourself at home.

You're drawn to it like a moth to a flame, and you let yourself go. You let yourself consume the happiness and the joy that he feels, the comfort and the pleasure, and you allow it to fill the aching void in your chest. The darkness is pushed back, the shadows chased away, and the light that fills the hollow places inside you is warm and sweet.

It's the happiest you've been in months.

"What are you doing?" Obi-Wan pants, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I don't know," you breathe, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Just, please, keep going."

He nods, and he thrusts deeper, the pleasure rippling through the two of you. The sensation is intoxicating, and you find yourself clinging to it, the euphoria making your head spin. You can't help but reach out and search for more, the need to drown the pain and the grief, to silence the voices, driving you to chase the feeling.

It's dangerous, you know. It’s more than you’ve ever allowed yourself to take, but you're so lost in the sensation that you can't bring yourself to care. It's too much, too good, and you're desperate to hold on, to cling to the feeling of safety and peace that flows through the two of you.

You want to drown in the light, the hope and the warmth, and never resurface.

And so, you continue to take, and take, and take, until, with a sudden jolt, it's over.

The sudden absence of his energy, the cold shock of the emptiness, makes you gasp, and your eyes snap open. You’re met with Obi-Wan's concerned gaze, his eyes wide and frantic, and it takes you a moment to realize what's happened.

"Sorry," he breathes, his brow furrowed. His eyes search your face, and he swallows. "That was...intense."

You swallow, the guilt gnawing at your gut, and you nod, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Yeah," you murmur, your voice raspy as the shame threatens to make your throat close up. "Obi-Wan--"

"Shh, it's okay," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face. His thumb traces along the line of your jaw, and his touch is gentle, comforting. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours, his hair tickling your face. "It's okay."

You watch his eyes squeeze shut, his brows drawing together. He's trying to regain control, to rein in the emotions and the sensations that have gotten the better of him. Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and his grip on your waist tightens.

The bond between the two of you has always been there, ever since the moment you'd met, and over the years it's only grown stronger. It was inevitable, really, with the amount of time the two of you spent together.

It's a natural, unconscious, and unavoidable process, and the fact that you can sense each other's emotions is not something the two of you can change. It's just part of who you both are, and while it's not a burden, not in any way, it is something that requires a delicate balance.

One that is easily lost.

And this, this is exactly why the Jedi forbid such attachments. Why the rules were created, why the lines were drawn, and why the two of you, no matter how much you care about each other, can never be more than this. The bond between the two of you is a double-edged sword, the connection amplifying both the good and the bad. It can bring the two of you together, closer than any two people could possibly be, or it can tear you completely asunder. 

And you know, just as you've always known, that if such a thing would ever come to pass, it would be your fault.

Obi-Wan's grip on your waist loosens, and the tension drains out of him, the momentary lapse forgotten. His eyes open, and he searches yours, his expression soft. He smiles, the warmth of it spreading through you, soothing the anxiety.

"Still with me?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Yes," you breathe.

His gaze drops, and his eyes lock on the place where your bodies are joined. He lets out a quiet noise at the sight of your arousal coating the base of his cock, the wetness dripping down his length. His softening erection hardens again, and his hips twitch, the need to move returning.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down, pressing your chest against his. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of him as his body shields yours from the outside world.

You're enveloped in his warmth, and you revel in the closeness, the intimacy. The pleasure sparks to life with each shift of his hips, and the two of you begin to move, slowly at first, then with more urgency, the rhythm picking up speed until the pace is frantic.

Your lips find his neck, and you begin to trail kisses up his jaw, the stubble rough against your lips. You nip at the sensitive spot just below his ear, and the moan that escapes him sends a shiver down your spine. His arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you impossibly closer, his hips thrusting erratically. The pleasure builds, and the pressure in your abdomen grows, the release just out of reach.

Obi-Wan's grip on you tightens, and he buries his face in your neck, his lips tracing a path along your shoulder. His teeth graze your collarbone, and you can't help but tilt your head, exposing the sensitive skin to his wandering mouth. He takes the invitation, and his lips close over the soft flesh, his teeth biting down gently.

Your mind goes blank as the pressure inside you suddenly snaps, the pleasure flooding through you, washing over you in a wave. Your entire body tenses, and a low, keening moan escapes you, the sound echoing in the room. Your back arches, and you can't help the way your hips buck, grinding down against him, seeking out every last drop of the overwhelming sensations.

Obi-Wan lets out a groan at the feeling of your walls fluttering, and he rears back, his head snapping up, his eyes wild. He searches your face, his gaze darting across your features, as if trying to memorize every detail.

"I—" He swallows, his expression almost reverent, as if he can't quite believe what he's seeing. "I need—"

He cuts himself off, and his words are lost, his voice trailing off. You watch, transfixed, as he tries to get his breathing under control, his chest heaving with the effort. His eyes drift back to the spot where the two of you are joined, and he watches as his length disappears inside you, his breath hitching at the sight.

He's always loved this, watching the two of you come together, and he's not ashamed to admit it. Obi-Wan's not shy about what he wants, and he's never had a problem asking, not when it comes to this. He likes to watch, and he's never hesitated to tell you so, and as always, the words are on the tip of his tongue.

But he's distracted, and his gaze is unfocused, and hazy. He's lost in the sensation, and you can't help but marvel at the way his eyes widen as if the sight of the two of you together is somehow brand new, as if he's never seen anything like it.

"Obi-Wan," you whine, trying to get his attention.

"What?" he mumbles, his eyes glued to the spot where your bodies meet.

"Obi-Wan."

"Hmm?" He blinks, his gaze flickering up to yours. He looks like he's trying to remember how to speak, his lips parted, and his eyes unfocused. "Yes?"

"What do you want?"

His swallows hard, and his hips stutter. His expression turns pained, and he squeezes his eyes shut, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He shakes his head, his breath coming in short gasps. "I can't—"

"Obi-Wan."

"Please," he moans, his voice a strangled whisper, and his hips slam into yours, the force of his movement making you cry out. "I can't."

You wrap your legs around his waist, your ankles locking behind him, and he whimpers at the sudden tightness, the increased pressure. His arms are trembling, and you can feel the tension in his muscles, the strain of holding back.

"Then don't," you murmur.

You can see the conflict on his face, and his jaw clenches, his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes flutter closed, and he lets out a soft groan, his head dropping forward, his forehead coming to rest on yours.

"But—"

"Obi-Wan, please."

You reach up, and your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. He leans into your touch, and the contact seems to break the last of his resolve, his restraint shattering. He's still for a moment, as if the weight of what he's about to do is sinking in.

Then, his hips move faster, the slow, languid thrusts quickly giving way to something more primal, and frantic. You can feel the pleasure building inside him, and his thoughts, and emotions, bleed through the connection, his desire spilling over into you.

"I've got you," you murmur, and the words seem to shatter the last of his composure, the final pieces of his carefully crafted control slipping away.

He groans, the sound raw and desperate, and his hips slam into yours. You can feel the pleasure building, the tension growing, and his thrusts grow more erratic, the pace becoming frantic.

He's consumed by the feeling, and he's unable, or unwilling, to hide the way his mind is spiraling. The bond between the two of you is wide open, and his mind is an ocean, his emotions swelling and breaking against the shore. The waves of arousal and lust are overwhelming, and they're crashing over you, threatening to pull you under.

The intensity of it all is too much, and you have to turn away, squeezing your eyes shut. You can't look at him, can't bear the sight of him. He's laid bare before you, completely and utterly vulnerable, and you can't handle it. You're drowning in it, and it's all you can do to cling to him, to keep your head above water as Obi-Wan loses himself.

His hands find your thighs, and he holds them, lifting you up, and positioning you how he wants. The movement pushes him deeper, and the angle makes him hit that sweet spot, and you gasp, your eyes flying open.

"Please, I—"

"Not yet," he groans, his voice raw. "Wait, not yet."

"I—oh fuck, please," you gasp.

He doesn't respond, his body acting on instinct. His mind is a haze, and the need to be as close to you as possible, to give you everything, consumes him.

He wants to lose himself, and he's begging you to let him, and there's no way you can deny him. Tears spring to your eyes, and you can't stop the sob that escapes you.

And he doesn't care, doesn't even notice. He's blind to it, his senses too full of his own pleasure, his own need, to feel anything else. He doesn't even hear the words, the soft pleas, the whispered prayers that tumble from your lips. All he knows is that you're there, that you're with him, and he's holding you, touching you, inside you, and he wants, he needs, so badly.

And he takes.

He takes and takes, and you let him. You let him use you, and you bask in the sensation, in the knowledge that, at least for a few moments, you can be there for him.

You can be the light, and he can be the shadow.

And for those few moments, it's enough.

With a choked gasp, Obi-Wan pulls out, and you're left empty and wanting, biting your lip to stop from screaming at the loss. Through half-lidded eyes, you see him reach down, his fist closing around his erection, pumping it roughly, and then he's coming, his release coating your stomach, his cock pulsing as the pleasure floods through him. He moans through it, the sound muffled by the arm he throws across his mouth, and his face is twisted with pleasure, his brows drawn together.

The feeling of his pleasure crashes into you through the bond, and the sight of him losing himself, the look on his face and the sounds he makes, is enough to send you over the edge. You feel your walls flutter and clench around nothing, the emptiness only heightening the pleasure. Your body trembles, and your hands grasp at the sheets, searching for something, anything, to hold on to.

Obi-Wan watches in awe as your orgasm ripples through you, his eyes wide and his mouth agape as his arm falls away. You can feel his shock and wonder through the bond, his amazement at the sight of you coming untouched, and his hand doesn't stop until the last drop has spilled onto your stomach.

You're left breathless and boneless, your body trembling with the aftershocks, and you can't help the smile that spreads across your lips. The pleasure, the satisfaction, and the joy is radiating from him, and it's contagious. It's hard not to laugh, and harder still not to cry, and you're not sure what you'd do if not for the fact that you're both so utterly, completely spent.

Obi-Wan looks down at the mess, and chuckles, a hint of embarrassment in his voice. "That was..." he trails off, his brain unable to come up with a coherent thought.

You nod, and let out a weak laugh, the sound more like a sigh. "I know."

"And I didn't even—"

"I know.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, and the sound is warm and light, his happiness spreading through the room. He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, his eyes sparkling, and there's a shy grin plastered on his face.

"My apologies," he says, his tone sheepish. "I don't know what came over me."

"That makes one of us," you tease.

He snorts, his cheeks heating, and he falls to the side, rolling over on his back next to you. The two of you sit in silence for a few moments, trying to catch your breath, your shoulders brushing with each exhale.

You grin and nudge his arm. "Welcome back, by the way."

"I'm glad to be back," he replies, rolling onto his side to face you. He traces a lazy pattern across your skin, smirking when the muscles in your stomach flinch. "Though if this is the welcome I get, maybe I should stay away more often."

"Don't you dare," you warn, laughing.

Obi-Wan grins, and the look in his eyes is soft, the affection bleeding through the bond as his fingers trace along the curve of your hip. He watches you, his gaze lingering on your face, and there's a look in his eyes, a vulnerability that he rarely allows himself to show.

You feel a sudden wave of emotion, a mixture of love and regret, and the force of it steals your breath.

He shouldn't be looking at you like that, like you're his entire world, because you're not. You're his best friend, his confidant, his equal, but you're not his lover. And you're certainly not his soulmate, or his other half, or whatever the hell it is people call the person they're meant to be with.

He shouldn't be looking at you, and it makes the guilt gnaw at your gut, a reminder of what the two of you are doing, and what the two of you have done, over and over again. Because, as good as it feels, as much as it eases the pain, you can't pretend that it's not a mistake.

The Jedi are forbidden to love, and for good reason. Love is dangerous, and complicated, and it's the kind of attachment that leads to the Dark Side. The Council knows this, and the rules are in place to protect everyone, to keep the Order strong and united.

It's for the best, and it's necessary, and yet here the two of you are, breaking those rules. And for what? For some fleeting moments of pleasure, and a bit of fun? For some meaningless, empty physical connection, something that will never lead anywhere, and that can never last?

It's not worth it, not really. You both know that, and yet you continue to seek each other out, continuing to risk everything for the sake of a few hours of bliss. To pretend that everything is as it used to be, and that the war, and the fighting, and the dying are still a thousand worlds away.

It's foolish, and selfish, and reckless, but it's not something either of you can seem to stop. Obi-Wan has always done well at following the rules and obeying the Code, but he's also never been the most truly obedient of the Jedi. He's never been able to completely give up his attachments, and you know that his love for you is not the only one he carries. It's something the two of you share, the inability to let go of those you care about, and it's a weakness.

A weakness that, if not handled with care, could be his downfall. One that you can't help but feed into and encourage at every turn, even if it means destroying him. One that, despite your best efforts, you have come to rely on, to seek out, and to cling to.

It's a problem, and one that neither of you are able, or willing, to solve.

And so, the two of you remain in your little bubble of bliss, pretending that the universe isn't burning.

"Let's clean up and then come back to bed," you say, interrupting the silence. "There are some things I'd like to discuss with you, and I'd rather not be covered in fluids when I do so."

"Agreed."

Obi-Wan looks around, and a moment later a box of tissues flies from across the room into his hand. He helps you wipe off, and then you stand on shaky legs. You head to the fresher and clean yourself off properly, and by the time you return, he's already in bed, the blankets pulled up around his waist.

You slide in next to him, and the bed dips as he shifts closer, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. The two of you prop yourselves up on your elbows, and the position is familiar, the two of you having spent many nights discussing strategy and planning.

"What did you want to talk about?" he asks, his voice gentle.

You hesitate. You could tell him about the nightmares. You could tell him about how the fear of losing him, of losing everything, is weighing heavy on your heart. You could tell him about how you can't sleep, can't focus, because all you can think about is how everything is falling apart, how the darkness is winning, how there's nothing you can do to stop it.

You could tell him, and he would listen. He would hold you, and he would comfort you, and he would offer his own advice. He would tell you that it's okay, and that everything will be fine, and that the nightmares are not real, and that he is not going anywhere. He would tell you that the darkness cannot win, and that the Republic will prevail, and that everything will work out.

He would tell you what you want to hear, and he would do it because he loves you, and because he wants to believe it, too.

But you don't. You can't bring yourself to, not yet. Not while he's looking at you like that, his gaze full of warmth and fondness and trust. Not when things are finally starting to get better, not when the two of you are finally getting somewhere. 

Obi-Wan has enough to deal with as it is without the weight of your own anxieties, and so you push aside your doubts and fears, and you decide, for once, to follow his example and to put on a brave face.

"Everything," you reply. "Tell me about Christophsis. Tell me what happened. I want to hear everything."

Obi-Wan takes a deep breath, and you know that the stories he's about to tell you are going to be anything but pleasant. You also know that, no matter how bad they are, it will be a relief to talk about them.

You'll listen, and you'll offer what comfort you can, and you'll let him vent his frustrations and worries. And then, when it's all over, and the stories have been told, the two of you will curl up and sleep will take you. The nightmares will be held at bay, and the darkness will stay where it belongs, locked away until morning.

"Anakin's plan was insane," he begins, and you smile.

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@callsign-denmark

[lightseoul]

asymptōtos

synopsis. you needed him to meet you halfway. he couldn't.

cw. fem!reader, student-turned-worker!reader, busy prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~22 yrs old), established relationship, fluff, hurt/(may or may not have) comfort

word count. 5.8k words

The first time it happens, it leaves you more in a state of awe and adoration than worry and disappointment.

In your defense, you never thought you’d end up dating anyone in college, let alone during your very busy senior year marred by senioritis and thesis woes, but the universe decided it has other plans for you.

And so here you are, on your first date with the #2 Pro Hero, no less.

Of course, credit must be given where it is due. All of this wouldn’t have happened without the notorious meddler and your elementary best friend Ashido Mina, who took it upon herself to be Bakugou’s wing-woman during her housewarming party two weeks ago.

Not only did she serve as the pesky glue that resisted all of your attempts to stray away from Bakugou’s immediate circle, but she also later on confessed to having begged him not to delete your number that she not-so-sneakily saved in the man’s phone.

You got so embarrassed when you received your first text from him, imagining him being held at gunpoint by Mina just to send the darned message. You contemplated not replying to save the poor guy but decided against it. You’re glad you did, though, because he ended up surprising you with his responsiveness and consistency, resulting in daily texts until he finally asked you out on a date.

In a very roundabout way, too:

Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime.

Which brings you to the present, post-said dinner, seated on one of the benches in a park you’ve never heard of until now, admiring the view.

“I’ve never done this before.”

Your head whips to look at Bakugou, surprised at his sudden statement. Things have been silent since you left the sushi restaurant.

Well, until now.

“What—go out on a date?” you joke, meaning to lighten the mood.

At that, he visibly reddens, and looks away.

“Dumbass,” he mutters under his breath.

Shit.

“I’m sorry,” you start, “I just thought—you being you—you’d have far more experience than I have.”

You can see him hesitating before looking you right in the eyes, “Wow.”

“What?”

He shrugs, “This is the first time someone’s referred to my being ‘me’ as a compliment.”

“Really?”

He merely gives you a firm nod. You can tell he’s trying to be cool about it, despite how much vulnerability this topic is requiring out of him.

You sigh, shaking your head, “Well, that’s bullshit.”

His voice is quiet when he replies. “...Ya think so?”

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “I mean, I like you. Being Bakugou Katsuki should make you proud.”

You don’t realize the carelessness of your comment until you see his eyes widen in shock. Yours follow suit upon realization, “I mean–”

“Yeah–”

“I didn’t–”

He interrupts, “Don’t worry. I get what ya mean.”

You could only stare at each other in astonishment until you look away in embarrassment.

Fuck.

You’re about to change the subject in the hopes of clearing the air and replacing the awkward silence that has befallen the two of you when you feel a feather of a touch graze your pinky.

You hold your breath in anticipation—willing your palm’s sweat glands to magically close in case Bakugou’s making a move to hold your hand—but that’s when it happens.

A piercing wail echoes throughout the park, and you both rip your hands away from each other.

Embarrassed (Bakugou), confused (you), and alarmed (both), you whip your heads towards the source, only to find a crying kid and who seems to be his father crouched down, frantically shushing him.

You narrow your eyes, trying to figure out what’s the matter from your spot on the bench.

“Kid’s dumb cat got stuck in that tree,” Bakugou points with his right hand, and sure enough, an orange Tabby cat is perched comfortably on the sakura tree near where the kid and his father are standing.

How he managed to figure out the problem in a millisecond is beyond you, but you couldn’t spare a single moment to marvel at his hero senses because Bakugou’s now standing up, palms cracking with mini-explosions.

He sighs heavily, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was annoyed.

Whatever scowl he might’ve had on his face is schooled into a neutral expression when he turns back to tell you to give him a second.

You nod, too stunned to speak, and the explosions on his palms begin to heighten in degree. He starts toward the direction of the civilians, before hesitating in his steps.

“What’s wrong?”

He shakes his head, back still turned towards you.

“...For the record,” he looks up to the cat still balanced expertly on the tree’s branches, possibly to avoid your gaze for what he’s about to say next.

“I like you, too.”

The second time it happens…is a bit different. It wasn’t like you weren’t aware this sort of thing was coming. On the contrary, you anticipated it, knowing full well what you were getting yourself into the moment you agreed to become Bakugou’s girlfriend.

But expecting and dress-rehearsing for pain doesn’t make it any less wounding once the actual thing does roll around.

It was your graduation day, and everything was going swimmingly. Bakugou got to officially introduce himself as your boyfriend to your parents while you were waiting for the ceremony to begin.

He didn’t want to admit it, but just by his body language alone, you could tell he was fucking nervous.

(Later on, during dinner, he’d whisper to you how he barely got any sleep the night before. Who was the one graduating between the two of you, again?)

Your parents’ reception of him was favorable, thanks to the briefer you gave them about his media presence not at all being an accurate depiction of the real thing. Your father tossed you a somewhat withering look after the encounter, but you chose to let it go. You weren’t going to let anyone rain on your parade today.

By all accounts, everything was going great. At the end of the program, everyone who you wanted to be present was there congratulating you, giving you bouquets of flowers, and taking pictures for remembrance’s sake.

After bidding goodbye to your college peers, you then headed to your favorite high-end restaurant to celebrate, where you sit now, listening in amusement as Bakugou gets grilled by your family and friends.

“So, Bakugou-san,” your mother continues, “what do you like about our Y/N?”

“Mom!”

Needless to say, you didn’t expect to be dragged into the grilling session.

Your mother only looks at you like you’re the one who’s lost your marbles. To your left, you can hear Bakugou snicker under his breath. You elbow his side in retaliation.

“What? You can’t expect me not to ask him that.”

“Yeah,” your cousin chimes in from the end of the elongated table, “we’re curious.”

You glare at her, “Shut it, C/N.”

“Y/N!,” your mother exclaims, “Don’t be rude.”

You could only pout in response while Bakugou clears his throat beside you, and you find yourself anticipating his response despite the circumstances.

“Well, she’s the most caring person I know,” he eyes you, and you can’t help but look away, feeling bashful under his gaze. “And is incredibly sharp, and she makes me feel understood and appreciated.”

Squeals and cheers erupt from the table, and you laugh in embarrassment at his words and everyone else’s reactions.

Bakugou pinches your thigh to catch your attention, “What?”

You snort, “You’re so cheesy.”

He smirks, “Says the one blushing.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s sporting redness on his cheeks the same way he’s saying you are. You can’t help but grin in response.

The noise dies down upon hearing your father clear his throat, “Bakugou-san, what do you do for a living, again?”

You internally roll your eyes. On the outside, though, you look at Bakugou, who straightens his posture at your father’s questioning.

“I’m a Pro Hero, sir.”

Your father hums in acknowledgment, “You’re Pro Hero…Dynamight?”

“Yes, sir.”

Everyone’s silent as you watch the tense conversation unfold before you.

“You face a lot of danger in your line of work, then?”

Bakugou remains unwavering as he goes through the kind of questioning that would otherwise annoy him, “Yes, sir. But we’ve undergone extensive training and immersions to be able to handle them accordingly.”

This time, your father only grunts in reply, returning to his plate of Grilled Akita Beef Sirloin as if he hadn’t just interrogated a guy. In the corner of your eye, you see Bakugou deflate, from relief or disappointment, you can’t tell.

“Anyway, Bakugou-san,” your mother interjects in an attempt to salvage the conversation, “what’s it like having a job of a Pro Hero? Nobody in our family took that career path, you see.”

“Well, I—”

He barely gets two words out when All Might’s voice comes booming throughout the entire restaurant, and you see Bakugou lose his cool and scramble for his phone to turn it off. Everyone’s eyes are bugged out, probably reeling from the fact that the #2 Pro Hero has such a corny ringtone.

“Sorry,” he blurts out. You chance a peek at the caller ID, which reads ‘Deku’, and you look up to see the frustration in Bakugou’s eyes.

Despite yourself, a sense of worry settles in your stomach. Midoriya never calls Bakugou unless it’s something important, and he’d already been informed about Bakugou being MIA for tonight. Surely he’s not calling for nothing…

“Who was that?” Your mother asks.

Bakugou presses the lock button on his phone and pockets it. “Sorry—it was just a colleague,” he frowns, “I don’t know why they’re contacting me, I already filed a leave for today.”

“Well, if it’s nothing important, I guess we–”

The ringtone, once again, floods the entire room, but this time you urge him to take it as he tosses you and everyone else an apologetic look.

“Sorry. Please excuse me.”

With that, he stands up and heads towards the corner of the restaurant, leaving you with the rest of your family and friends in silence.

“He seems nice,” your cousin offers, and you shoot them a look of gratitude.

“Are you sure about him, Y/N?” your other cousin asks, and you can’t help but freeze upon hearing the question. “Dating a Pro Hero doesn’t seem like easy business.”

“I bet it isn’t,” your father adds gruffly.

You’re about to spit out the best defense in history when Bakugou rushes toward your side, although he doesn’t sit back down. You brace yourself for what’s about to come next.

“That was Pro Hero Deku—there’s been a sighting in the Chofu district of this high-profile villain we’ve been tracking down for weeks,” he fixes his gaze onto you, “And they need both top heroes on the field, ASAP.”

You spring onto your feet with no hesitation, “Okay, but be careful, Katsuki.”

He nods, “Of course.”

With that, he faces everyone else and bows, “I apologize for having to leave early. I hope you enjoy the rest of your meal.”

He doesn’t wait for their responses, attention now shifted back to you.

“Congratulations again, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a smile on your face in the hopes of easing his worries. He bends down to kiss your forehead, shooting you an apologetic look before excusing himself for the last time and heading for the exit.

You hold onto that congenial smile plastered across your face as your eyes trace his disappearing figure. Once he’s gone, you go back to your seat and will yourself to meet the eyes of those around you.

You see the all-too-familiar worried look on your mother’s face, while your cousins and friends have their eyes down on their plates. Your father, on the other hand, has the same withering look he’s been wearing around you and Bakugou the entire day.

“I bet it isn’t,” your father mutters under his breath, but you heard him clearly.

The third time it happens, it hits closer to home than you expect it to.

After a flurry of important firsts with Bakugou, as well as major life changes that have gotten you breaking down more often than you’d like to admit, your birthday finally rolls around.

As you’ve gotten older, birthdays have indubitably become more mundane. Nevertheless, you went ahead and took the day off of your new job as recruitment personnel in Mirko’s agency, not to celebrate it in crazy ways but in the hopes of spending the entirety of it at home with Bakugou.

Ever since you landed your first job, time spent with your boyfriend has become more and more negligible, with schedule conflicts and inflexibilities of work commitments barring you from seeing each other.

Today was no different.

You wake up to the scent of Bakugou and his citrus body soap, who, as per your request, spent the night prior in your apartment. When you reach out to his side of the bed, though, you’re met with cold emptiness, and your heart sinks in disappointment upon the realization that he’d left.

You at least wanted a good morning kiss for your birthday.

Half awake and reaching blindly for your phone, you bring it up to eye level and check your messages.

It’s only 9:07 AM and your inbox is already flooded with greetings, but none of them is Bakugou’s. Instead, the one text message from him reads:

Hey. Sorry I had to leave early, got some agency-wide meeting Shitty-hair and I are presiding today or something. See you when I get home.

Despite yourself, you deflate at his lack of acknowledgment of your birthday. You shake your head, feeling the ugly emotion of hurt creeping up your spine. Instead, you choose to focus on the fact that he just called your apartment home. Besides, he’s probably just busy right now, you think to yourself. He’ll remember later.

He didn’t remember.

At least, as of 11:45 PM, he hasn’t.

You were still optimistic about things when the day started, going around the house—cleaning to soothe your racing mind, as well as opening the gifts your friends and family had sent to your apartment. By the time lunch rolled around, you had food delivered from your favorite restaurant, which you happily devoured while rewatching a comfort film.

Now and then, you’d thumb at your phone to check if Bakugou’s messaged you a greeting or an update, only to be met with messages and notifications that were the least of your concern.

You lost count of how many times you’ve sighed in discontent, restless for the moment he comes home and proves to you that he absolutely, positively, certainly, hasn’t forgotten.

But before you know it, it’s already 11:45 PM and he still hasn’t walked through your doorway—the last you’ve heard of him being the one text message he left you this morning.

You’re staring blankly at the dinner you’ve prepared for the two of you, devoid of any more expectations, when the door finally clicks open at 11:47 PM and he stumbles in, decked out in his hero costume and visibly exhausted.

“Oh, you’re still awake.”

He seems stunned to see you.

“Patrol went overtime,” he curtly explains as he toes off his boots, “I’m fucking beat.”

You only stare at him from your position on the couch, eyes following his figure as he marches towards the bedroom, possibly to wash off the day’s dirt and grime, barely sparing you a second glance.

“Hey, babe,” Bakugou calls out from the bedroom, who, from the sounds and smell of it, has already come out of the shower.

You hear a rustling noise, “What’s with all these fuckin’ wrappers? Is it your birthday or some shi–”

He falls silent as realization dawns on him, and you shut your eyes in dreadful anticipation. Earlier, when you were still fired up with the day’s anger, you thought you could handle this confrontation (if he ever realized what day it was), but you might’ve overestimated yourself.

Because now, you’re on the couch, hugging your knees and feeling completely pathetic as you hear his footsteps get closer and louder.

Suddenly, your face to face with Bakugou Katsuki, who’s kneeling to peer at you.

And he looks absolutely guilty.

“Y/N, I am so sorry—”

You shake your head. That shuts him up.

“I’m not in the mood for apologies, Katsuki,” you start, “I’m—I’m not mad at you for not having prepared or set aside anything.”

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you press on, “I know you have a lot on your plate right now, and I understand.”

He eagerly nods. You sniff to help hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out, and Bakugou’s hand shoots up to cradle your face in response.

You let him.

“I’m just…” you look down, unable to meet his eye, “disappointed, Katsuki.”

You will yourself to look at him again, “I figured you’d at least remember what today was.”

“Fuck,” he warbles, and now you’re both crying, “I’m sorry, princess. I…”

He trails off, and some twisted part of you is thankful for it. You already know what was going to come out of his mouth—either their staff was a pain in the ass today and he had to step in, or a villain came around to stir shit up, resulting in overtime and him not having the time or energy for anything else.

This way, he could spare both of you the excuses that have seemed to etch themselves onto the tapestry that is your relationship.

“Let me make it up to you,” he says instead.

You don’t know how he plans to do that, but at this point, you’re too tired and hurt to ask or fight back. You gingerly nod your head in agreement.

And with that, he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, all the while trailing soft, almost hesitant, kisses at the expanse of your neck.

He lays you down gently on the bed, and he climbs on top of you, hovering, until he has his forearms at both sides of your head.

You find yourself melting under the intensity of his loving, albeit guilty gaze.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” Bakugou whispers, before diving in for a scalding kiss.

And make it up to you, he did.

The day after your birthday, he files for a leave in his agency, as well as cashes in Mirko’s favor from when he saved her ass in a past mission together, successfully giving you an extra paid leave for the day.

He ends up taking you out to a fancy soba restaurant recommended by Todoroki, and to an exhibit you’ve been wanting to see for the longest time, but haven’t gotten around to due to the ungodly wait (thanks to his Pro Hero card, though, you were able to get special passes).

And, it was at the end of that art exhibit when Bakugou pulls you into a private room and tells you he loves you for the first time.

Needless to say, you were over the moon.

But as a great author once said, one can’t undo the pain one caused. One can only atone for it.

Despite yourself, a seed of unease takes shelter and grows inside of you.

The fourth time it happens, it finally escalates into a full-blown fight.

It was a Saturday night, and you were enjoying a nice, stay-in dinner with Bakugou in his penthouse. By some miracle, he was able to take the night off despite the busyness that came with December and the looming holiday season.

“Stop staring at me,” he had said while expertly chopping the assortment of vegetables you bought fresh from the market earlier that day.

You grinned at him, “Not my fault you look sexy when you’re cooking.”

“Shut up, dumbass,” he retorted, but there was no bite to it. If you knew any better, you’d say he was blushing. “Now come help me with this.”

And that, you did. More like fumbled around his luxurious kitchen while he took the lead, but you tried your best. Which brings you to now: you, seated across from Bakugou at his corner coffee table, overlooking the city skyline.

“Eat,” he commands.

You happily indulge him.

Scooping a spoonful of the imoni stew he graciously prepared for you, you bring it to your mouth, all the while not breaking eye contact.

“Mmmm!” you exclaim the second the flavors explode in your mouth, “this is so good!”

He only smirks in response, but you can tell he’s pleased with himself with the way his chest puffs up with pride, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, idiot.”

You giggle at how his words juxtapose the way his tone sounds so smitten. Hastily chewing the cabbage, you regard him after you swallow, “Right, you said you wanted to tell me something?”

At that, he visibly stiffens, and your stomach drops, feeling a shot of dread replace the elation that’s been coursing through your blood ever since the night began.

“Yeah,” he starts, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Yes?” you mentally slap yourself at how nervous you sounded.

He looks you dead in the eye, “And I think it’s about time we move in together.”

You can’t believe your ears.

That’s not what you were expecting him to say.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he places his utensils back on the table, “Think about it, we’ve been dating for almost a year now, and my place is closer to the agency and Mirko’s.”

He shrugs, “And we rarely see each other these days. I figured we can solve that by having you move in with me.”

You try to laugh, but it comes out stilted, “Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to move in with you, Katsuki.” At that, he deflates in what you think is relief.

“But I have to ask—what prompted this? We’ve never talked about living together before.”

He looks down at his clenched fists on the table, and you can’t help how your body tenses in anticipation of the worst.

“This has nothing to do with asking you to move in with me,” he starts, “but there’s another thing I have to tell you.”

Your voice comes out meek when you reply, “What is it?”

“I got chosen to go on a very important solo mission.”

What’s the caveat? your mind immediately conjures the thought. Instead, you say, “Really? That’s awesome, Kats. Congratulations!”

He flashes you a grim smile, “Thanks.”

You force yourself to smile back, chuckling, “But?”

At your utterance of the three-letter word, he sighs, smile now erased from his face, “It’s overseas. Estimated to take about two months.”

You stay silent, just staring at him. He takes this as a sign to drop the last bomb.

“It starts next week.”

At that, you spring onto your feet, “Seriously? Do you even know what you’re gonna miss?”

He follows suit, “Of course! Shit—I’m not a fucking idiot,” he looks to the side in frustration, “I know, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t something I can just pass up.”

The snarky rebut of ‘It actually is’ dies in your throat when the fact of how much being the best matters to Bakugou crosses your mind.

“...But you promised me you’d spend the holidays with my family.” Your tone is quiet now, in stark contrast to earlier. You don’t even get started on the two-month absence.

He huffs, “I know. But I—”

“I’m sorry Katsuki,” you look down in shame, unwilling to look him in the eye, “and I know this is unfair of me, but I just can’t help but feel like you’re choosing your career over me.”

“But this mission could possibly make me number one,” he pleads, “Over shitty Deku, Y/N.”

You can practically hear the pain in his voice when he murmurs the next few words: “Number one.”

You shake your head in resignation—you know where this is going. You’ve gone through the motions of these arguments a hundred times before.

You’re fighting a losing battle.

“I know.”

At your quiet affirmation of his reasoning, Bakugou circles the table and wraps his arms around you, albeit cautiously. Tightening his hold on you, he whispers a soft thank you, and you feel your heart clenching in pain at how awkward and distant he feels despite being so close to you.

You have the urge to ask him if he only asked you to move in with him to soften the blow of what he was going to say next, but you hold your tongue. The last thing you want is for you to go on your separate ways for two months while in the middle of a fight.

You did end up going back to your hometown for the holidays, although with one less companion. Having to answer your family about Bakugou’s whereabouts was a huge pain, with you eventually resorting to terse responses the more times the question got reiterated.

Your family got so involved in the state of your relationship, with your father dropping I told you so’s ever so often that you finally decided you’ve had enough on the night of Christmas, and resolved to leave for Tokyō the next day.

You were planning to just spend the rest of the holidays in your apartment (you never got around to moving into Katsuki’s home), and wallow in your sadness over your relationship, but fortunately (or unfortunately), you ended up going out of your unit to spend New Year’s at Mina’s instead.

You note the profound role her persistence has played in your life.

Fast forward to now, with you having stepped out of the crowded party in her living room and onto the balcony, grateful for the cool, night breeze.

You hear the sliding door creak open behind you, and you don’t need to look over your shoulder to see who it is.

Footsteps pitter-patter against the floor until you find Mina standing there at your right, uncharacteristically quiet.

You don’t want to hear any comforting words about Bakugou’s absence, so you speak ahead, “Thanks, Mina.”

Her head whips to look at you, and she smiles warmly, “For what?”

“For inviting me to celebrate here,” you will yourself to smile back, “I think I needed this.”

She wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes you, “Of course. I—uh,”

She pauses, and you look over at her expectantly, “You what?”

She slowly lets you go and fully turns towards you, the ledge supporting her body weight as she leans into it. A serious expression now adorns her face.

“Just that…I’m not the one you should be thanking.”

You mirror her stance, facing her and narrowing your eyes, “What do you mean?”

She sighs, “Don’t tell him, but Bakugou’s actually the one who told me to check in on you.”

You take a step back from her in surprise (or hurt, you’re not sure—the emotions you’ve been feeling these days have been nothing but complex), but Mina’s quick to step forward and grab your hands, holding it in hers.

“He sounded really sorry about having to leave you alone for the holidays, you know.”

You feel the pinprick of tears at Mina’s words, bringing you to look down at your feet as a means of hiding your sadness from your best friend, even if you know that barely conceals how you’re feeling.

“Come here,” she ushers you in for a gentle embrace.

And you do.

You both stand there for what feels like an eternity, with her rubbing small circles on your back and you crying silently on her shoulder.

“He really loves you, you know,” she whispers, after a long pause, “Eiji and I have talked about it with the rest of our friends—we all agree how it’s practically clear as day.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, and allow yourself to bask in the gravity of Mina’s words.

“I know.”

The fifth time it happens, you astound yourself with your lack of resistance.

While Bakugou was out in the US for his solo mission, you decided it was the perfect time to put in the extra effort in your own work.

Whether it was to make something of yourself or to distract yourself from the loneliness that came with Bakugou’s absence, it didn’t matter. The bottom line was you finally had something to work towards, and it felt good.

You’ve been eyeing this promotion to be the Recruitment Lead in Mirko’s hero agency for over three months now, with the deliberation process taking longer than you’d like, only for it to end with you falling short of the other candidate.

You clench your fists at the thought of having received the news earlier that day.

Insecure and dismayed, you’ve been waiting for Bakugou to come home so you can tell him about it. It’s gonna have to be a long story, seeing as you haven’t even gotten around to telling him about wanting the promotion in the first place. In anticipation of the conversation, you stocked up on his favorite snacks and drinks.

Finally, at 8:54 PM, you hear the lock open with a click.

You rush to the entryway of your now-shared home, and flash him an inviting smile, “Welcome home.”

He’s in his regular clothes, having stripped himself of the grime and dirt back in the agency. Good, you think to yourself, you’ll have more time with him like this.

You’re about to ask him if he’s eaten dinner and if he can spend the night talking when he practically, and unceremoniously, collapses on top of you.

You’re agile enough with your arms shooting up to help carry his body weight, clutching his waist and arm to keep you both steady.

“Katsuki?” you squeak.

He only burrows his nose in your neck and huffs, “I’m fuckin’ exhausted. Let’s go to bed, please?”

You can’t help but ache at the sight and sound of you Katsuki beaten to exhaustion like this. So, like the good partner that you are, you nod in affirmation and assist him as you walk to the bedroom, and help him out of his clothes until he’s left in nothing but his boxers.

Now lying on the bed and under the covers, he holds his arm out open for you.

His voice is low and rough: “C’mere.”

And you do.

You climb into bed next to him, settling into his side as a muscled arm drapes across your waist.

You look up at his face, and a part of you hopes his eyes are still open and twinkling with invitation.

For conversation. For intimacy.

For anything.

But you’re only met with the peaceful, sleeping face of your lover.

That was the fifth time it happened.

And the last.

“Is there any reason you dragged me out of my pajamas to come here at–,” he checks his phone, “8:14 PM?”

You ignore Bakugou’s incredulous question, choosing instead to look around the view of the park from the bench where you’re both seated.

You glance at him, all in his bedhead and glasses-wearing glory. He had a long day, as per usual, having arrived home thirty minutes after 7 PM, but you had to have this conversation sooner than later.

“You seriously don’t remember this place?”

“‘Course I do,” he says in a heartbeat. “This is where I took you out on your best first fucking date ever.”

You snort, “That was yours.”

He sits up and scowls at you, offended, “Fuck that shit. That was both of ours.”

You laugh, unable to tease him any longer, “It was. You even flexed your hero skills to me and all.”

He slinks back into the bench, huffing as he crosses his arms over his chest, “Damn straight.”

You roll your eyes, “Show off.”

He snickers, “Simp.”

You shake your head, trying to fight off the grin that’s spreading across your face. Now was not the time for flirty banter. Not with what you’re about to tell him…

“But really, though,” Bakugou pipes up after a few minutes of silence, “what’s up?”

You can tell he’s trying to sound more playful than he usually does. Still, there’s an air of tense anticipation surrounding the both of you, and it’s been there since you asked two weeks ago if he could clear out tonight’s schedule, as you had something important to say.

Here goes nothing.

You exhale, albeit quite shakily, and close your eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore, Katsuki. I’m sorry.”

Your eyes flutter open to see him holding his breath, visibly on guard.

Bakugou’s smart. You’re sure he knows what you’re talking about, if not because of his intelligence but of the way he gulps nervously, no matter how imperceptible that was.

But he still retorts with, “You can’t do what anymore?”

You gesture vaguely at the distance between the two of you. That’s only been growing in the past few months.

“This. Us.”

You heave in a deep, shaky breath, refusing to look at him. He takes your hand into his.

“I can’t bear it anymore. Forcing you to choose between your hero work and me.”

You chance a glance at your Katsuki, and he’s staring at you, eyes brimming with tears and with such intensity that knocks your breath away.

Still, you march on. You have to get this out of your system before you chicken out.

“It hurts me to make you choose. Especially knowing how much you love what you do and how much you’re needed by other people.”

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, but you still end up choking, “But I need you, too, Kats.”

“And, I can’t keep on getting disappointed and hurt like this every time I don’t get chosen.”

At that, you finally let the tears you’ve been holding onto fall down your cheeks, “It’s all too much.”

A part of you still hoped he’d hop onto his feet in protest and beg for you to stay with him and proclaim how he’ll try harder, despite knowing, more or less, that no objections will pour out of his mouth.

True enough, Bakugou remains silent, like the tears that quietly drip down onto his clenched fists.

Because deep down, he knew.

He knew, from the very beginning.

Before he even decided to keep your number. Before he plucked up the courage to send you that first text. Before he sucked it up and asked you out on that first date.

He knew—that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t meet you halfway.

tagging. @katsukis1wife

extra credits. katsuki's first date line (tweet). quote about atonement.

[what-if-nct]

hey mate. people has been harassing my friend michael over an altercation between them that happened due to him trying to explain to someone about their tone in text. they were arguing about people putting recovery tags in fanfictions, but when someone came with a different opinion to them (even if they agreed), they would just insult and harass them with their interests before silencing them by deleting their comment or reblog.

despite my friend literally agreeing with them but speaking in perspectives such as explaining that this person may be new to tumblr and may not know that they didn’t need to maximise their tags, this was enough to rile them up to the point where he was getting harassed in dms and he came to us fed up with this app.

i really feel for the guy and i hope he’s doing well. those people are immature af. i find it embarrassing that this was someone in their 20s and me, a 17 year old, is much more mature than them. probably because they’re so chronically online that they basically have no life outside of the internet. i’m even in belief that i know people who are my age and has ptsd and yet they’re much more mature than that particular person.

this is why i don’t like talking to people like that. this was even the reason why i was very hesitant to talk to you because i thought you could be one of those people, but no. you’re quite open minded and i need to be around more people like that so i could always have faith in humanity once more. you can suggest some blogs to follow too so i could find more people like you! it would make me so happy that i would know who to follow so i don’t have to worry about going through this myself.

uhhhh my friend michael has been harassed by a stranger in this app and now he's really angry. i feel so bad for him, but i don't know what to do.

I'm sure you're two completely different people but I'll respond to both since its the same situation.

It's terrible that they're being treated like that and there is no reason for the person harassing your friend to be acting like that. It is not hard to just see something you don't like and just ignore it. There is no reason for an adult to act like that. And really the best thing to do is block them, you can block anonymous asks if they're anonymous. It's just one mean person who has nothing else better to do and maybe if it's really bad have a friend filter things and manage the blog till it dies down so he doesn't have deal with it first hand.

And I have friends here who I talk to even outside of Tumblr, I actually made one of my bestest friends on Tumblr like five years ago and we're all on the same wavelength and are chill. But I'm not sure if they want their urls shared. But if anyone is open and nice and wanting to make new friends just reply to this ask so you can make friends without fear of judgement.

[screampied]

holà 🧸🧸

how are ya vay-vay-VAYGUSSSS 🤸🤸🤸 AHHHH HAPPY TO KNOW YOURE DOIN BETTER erm what’s shark week ?😭 (a week for sharks ??) dw vegas i’ll blow your cramps out 💨💨💨

OMGGG THE SETTER 😭😭😭 IT SOUNDS HELLA FUN ILL TRY AND IF I FIND A CLUB AND I HAPPEN TO PLAY ILL TELL YA !!!🙏🏼🙏🏼

the olympics were so fun dis year like OMGGGG fun and stylish at the same time there were so many epic moments

was about to download love and deep space when i saw it takes 3GB of your storage… ill prob never play sorry 😞

OUHHHHH THNAKS A LOT FOR THE TIPS!! ILL MAKE SURE TO PUT THEM TO GOOD USE 🙏🏼🙏🏼 talking about writing i think i know why i always held back into writing… im scared of it as much as i love it… im always so scared of not being able to find the right words or syns and having to look for them on thesaurus feels like im cheating…☠️ anyway

AND TALKING ABOUT VOLLEY GUESS WHO FINISHED THE S3 OF HAIKYUU ??? ME, it was so good fr 🙏🏼 now i started the s4 and the animation is… someting?😰 its really weird but we rock with it i cant wait to start the scans too omhgggjfkekdksidkfjzkwksosdizi. and you vaygus where are you arrived (?) (pls correct me if it’s phrased wrong..) in haikyuu?

JJK ENDS IN 5 CHAPTERS ???? ALREADY ??? honestly i jus gave up everyone is fncking dead gege really got under my skin fr, imma kill him like he killed the whole cast

HAVE A GOOD DAY, NIGHTS AND DREAMS 🧸🧸🧸!!💕

-🌟

HIIIII STAR i’m okay i just woke up a few mins ago n im about to eat ✨💓 andddd gonna get on my laptop in a few to do some work. sry for the late reply my love 😭😭 shark week is just another saying for being on your period </3 thankfully im not on my period anymore bc i was SUFFERINNG. but thank u pookie mwaaaah

YESSS SETTERS ARE SO FUN. ooough lmk how it goes if you decide to go to a vb club !!! 💓🎀 + yeah real love & deepspace takes up a shit ton storage it took me forever to install it 😞 i had to delete a bunch of stuff but it’s so worth it

AGHHHHH HAVE FUNNNN. YOURE GONNA DO GRREAAAAT. and using a thesaurus is not cheating, it’s helping !!! ✨ all it does is strengthen your vocab <3 and PLS real, the animation for s3 caught me off guard bc i was like 🗿🗿🗿 but it was still a good season nonetheless !!!! :P

YOU TOOOOOO NONNIE MWAH

- 🦦 anon, don’t apologize it’s no worries !! take care of yourself, i’ll always be here 🫂🫂💓! glad you’re doing okay though, you can do this xxxx

- i don’t really have a type but older men are definitely 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

- I HAVENT. do you have any fav songs from him/them?

[mokonahapuuuuuu]

Not My Proudest Moment

A relative of mine used to be so nice. This person is the only one that I knew longest ever since childhood. 

I should have seen the signs of how messed up things were going to be. 

My grandfather passed away when I was in college. It made him man of the house now, but he is not ready for that position yet. After all, he is the youngest in his family, even compared to the girls. 

Respect your elders. Submit and be obedient, or leave. 

Ever since the funeral, we’ve been arguing often. Okay, girl… he’s just upset that grandpa died. Maybe he’ll change soon. He’ll be back… Right? 

The arguing continues. It went from petty nitpicking from the chores, the way I walked, talked, pretty much everything. Then he started to curse. 

Didn’t all elders say that swearing was bad? 

They say respect your elders, but they don’t actually give respect to the younger generation back. 

What are we, emotional punching bags? 

I am in acting school. We are arguing in the car again. It’s so hard to find a job. I’m living on my own for the first time. I’m in a new industry. Mother doesn’t believe in me and did something domestically violent that I’m still trying to see through, and he doesn’t care? 

“If you don’t find a job soon, I’ll make it so much harder…” 

Yeah, I know I’m a loser. You can tell by my glasses and awkwardness that I was never part of the cool crowd. 

Are you ashamed of me cus I’m not your trophy niece? 

We’re Southeast Asian, but you prep your kids like the 80’s jock stage dad on ‘Breakfast Club’. 

“Come on, I didn’t raise a loser…!” 

I’m in a different town a few months down the road, so at least I don’t have to see you in person. 

I try to open up to you about what mom just said. How she’s trying to do all these things for religion, so she could be ‘redeemed’. 

She wants to go to our version of heaven. One part of it is keeping her distance emotionally from me. 

I’m one of her regrets. 

Oh, so I shouldn’t exist? 

He basically turned it all around and spat it in my face. 

“I don’t care.” 

“Whenever I try to tell you what’s going on in my life, I feel I can’t open up to you. Did you get that email about mom turning to religion?” 

“No, I didn’t. I either deleted that or don’t remember, cus every email you send me makes you sound like a brat. If I showed them to anyone, they’d be like ‘yeah, she’s a brat’. You always say in your relationships how frustrated you are, maybe you’re the problem. Hang up before I get angry…!” 

I try to breathe. 

What just happened? 

I hold my pillow tight as it stains with tears. 

So basically, nobody wants me to exist. To be born. 

“Mommy, he just did something really bad…” 

I’m in my early twenties, and here I am talking like a baby. 

“You actually talked to that jerk?” Dad’s side of the family abandoned mother years ago when I was a kid. Her side of the family ditched her, too. “Where’s your self-respect?” 

She’s the last person I want to discuss self respect to. She does let her own son call her fat after all. 

How could anyone stand to be insulted anymore in this family? 

My own brother even calls me overweight now and then. 

“Oh, we’re just trying to make you strong.” 

I already hate the word ‘strong’ from the phrase ‘come on strong’ when I messed up socially in making friends and dating. I was bullied for it. 

“Do you come on strong cus you’re autistic?” 

You’re not human, walking freak show.

‘Strong’ is such a cliche word already, it’s practically given to every girl like ‘beautiful’. The worst part about being strong is no one ask if you’re okay.

Enough is enough, I’m not gonna put up with your crap anymore. 

Either acknowledge you hurt me, or leave. 

It’s been months since that phone call and nothing has really changed. He hasn’t replied to or acknowledge any of my other emails. 

Oh, so you’re just going to go about your day like nothing happened, and just pretend like everything’s okay? 

You don’t actually care about me as a person. I’m just your tool to make you look good, and I’m the shame of the family. 

All because of my autism diagnosis. 

“You always send me nasty emails. I can’t let you do this to me and my family.” 

I’m being nasty? Record yourself and see how you talk. 

“I’m not trying to hurt you, I’m just trying to tell you what’s going on. And what do you mean your family? I was never apart of it?” 

I have had it with this person. 

All the cursing, the threats, the degradation. 

I have had it with their shallow world and their hypocritical asses. As long as I’m like them, all pretty and perfect, you won’t judge me. I may vomit from that. 

I finally wrote this to them in an email. 

“You know what you all remind me of? Kardashians. Plastic Barbie dolls. Oh, and how much did that plastic surgery cost for your wife? Hope the push up bra didn’t break the budget.” 

I shouldn’t have said it, but it was true. I was jealous that their family, specifically the girls were way more prettier than me. Some of the girls in our family had way more potential to be in the popular crowd than I ever did when I was her age. It was like Modern Family’s Haley Dunphy and Alex Dunphy. Being around them, it was high school all over again, the jocks verses the nerds. Having glasses doesn’t help. 

Since I am Southeast Asian, and have to respect my elders, if I said that in person, I’d be beaten the snot out of for being disrespectful. Then again, that’s all she is, plastic. I don’t think her slap would hurt as much. 

I’d be lucky if I got away with just a slap. I’d be this century’s Anne Boleyn with my head rolling on the floor. 

I didn’t stop there. Just to see if they was listening I called the girls more names that they were unattractive.

“You’re still stuck in high school, aren’t you? Pushing your kids to get into sports and to act all cool? And you tell me I’m the one in a fantasy. Get over yourself.” 

The first remark about calling certain people unattractive was my first slip to a path of no return. 

I became a monster. 

A bully. 

A fearful coward like him who just wanted to fit in. 

[douchebagbrainwaves]

THE COURAGE OF GUIDE

Though it brought many social changes, the Industrial Revolution happened. Where you live should make at most a couple percent difference. And so you do, just make it faster. Most readers can tell the difference between Google and a barbershop. Not all rich people got that way from startups, of course. Why didn't anyone think of it before? What they invest is their time and who were right.

The important thing for our purposes is that, as a guide to keep us from straying beyond the resolution of the words we're using. Because Paypal is now responsible for 43% of their sales and probably more of their growth. If a mail reader has a delete-as-spam button then you could also add the from address of every email the user has deleted as ordinary trash. There might be 500 startups right now who think they're making something Microsoft might buy. It's an Emotional Roller-coaster This was another one lots of people want and how to cancel your subscription, and that employers are just proxies for users in which risk is pooled. If you went there in 1300, it might have been 2400 years ago. The people you find in Cambridge are the kind of work—discovering new problems to solve.

030676773 pop3 0. DH levels don't set a lower bound on the convincingness of a reply, they do set an upper bound. It's an exciting place. But when you do have kids. So I've thought a lot about things that matter, then 2 work on problems demanding enough to stretch you. Till now the problem has always been a fussy place, a town of i dotters and t crossers, where you're liable to get both your grammar and your ideas corrected in the same way that someone might design a building or a chair or a new typeface. That is, are the riskiest startups the ones that are universal, or nearly so. Within a year you'll know if you're wasting your time although they probably won't say this directly. Universities are, at least. It does not, for example—and try to think of something fairly novel. It's much more of a hiring bonus than an acquisition.

If there is a lot younger than it seems. But only a bad VC fund would take that deal. In any period, it should be easy to figure out what we can't say. Another way to counterattack is with metaphor. But one of the O'Reilly people that guy looks just like Tim. 01 tcl 0. Nearly all wanted advice about dealing with future investors: how much money should they take and what kind of terms should they expect? But from what I've heard the founders didn't just give in and take whoever the VCs wanted. The Origin of Species was first published, because everyone now is raised either to take evolution for granted, or to regard it as a heresy. One reason is that they feel they don't have enough experience. Back in the 90s, to get users you had to get mentioned in magazines and newspapers.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #4

Satan: So I MEANT to say “oh crap, I left my phone in my car” but what I ALMOST said was “oh no, I left my cone in my phar,” and damn wouldn’t that have been embarrassing, but I caught myself, and what I ACTUALLY said was

“Ah, my fart cone.”

So anyway

•

Simeon: Today these two boys in my math class were hitting each other with pencils and my teacher said “could you try to be a little more mature?”

One of them screamed “TAXES” and punched the other kid in the face

•

Leviathan: Sex is so weird it’s literally just putting your penis inside someone else’s penis. Like what the fuck

Asmodeus: I don’t think that’s how it works

Leviathan: Yes it is. I’ve had so much sex. A lot. Like 100 sex.

•

Mammon: What did one cell say to his sister cell that stepped on his toe

Mammon: Mitosis

Leviathan: I want to die

•

Mammon: How long does someone have to be dead before it’s considered archeology instead of grave robbing

Solomon: An an archeologist I find this a veRY AWKWARD QUESTION

Mammon: Answer the question grave robber

•

Satan: Ah yes, the Trojan horse. Or as I like to call it murderous piñata

•

Asmodeus: Years ago I watched this porn and the girl was screaming ‘oh god, oh god!!!’ And this dude was like ‘there are no gods here’ and to this day it haunts me wtf was he talking about

•

Mammon: At my funeral there is going to be a closed casket and then it will be opened to reveal I am not inside. Instead they will turn on the ceiling fan and my lifeless body will swing around the room while the space jam theme song is playing in the back ground

Mammon: Never mind my brother says I can’t do that

•

MC: I just had the best encounter with a child at Kmart. I was in the aisle shopping and this boy and his dad come around the corner. The little blonde boy sees me and excitedly exclaims “there’s a human here!!” To which his father replied, “Yes, there’s humans everywhere.”

Mammon: Bro you do realize you just met aliens

Solomon: Not unusual for Kmart

•

Mammon: I was looking at grapes in the store and this old lady comes up to me and goes “you’re not stealing those are you?” So I’m like no lol? and she goes “oh, well I am.” And grabbed a handful of grapes and left

Leviathan: GKSKVKSM

•

Diavolo: “What time is it?” You ask, I pull out my 2.7 metric ton granite sundial and immediately crush both of your feet, I loudly announce “it is cloudy.”

•

Solomon: This is the dumbest thing to nitpick, but the phrase “real UFO” bothers me any UFO is a real UFO as long as it’s unidentified and flying because that’s what those words mean whether or not it’s an alien is a different matter. It could be a pancake someone threw real hard as long as you don’t know that’s what it is it’s a UFO

Satan: I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Anything is a UFO if you’re bad enough at identified stuff

•

MC: People with uteri are never gonna have a perfectly flat stomach. They’re always gonna have a little pouch, because that’s where we keep our bees.

Thirteen: Once a month the moon angers the bees.

•

Lucifer: Gave my students a pop quiz today and learned something new: if you make all the answers C, you will see 35 of the most hilariously panicked and confused faces in the world.

Raphael: Are you Satan?

•

Leviathan: Was it really necessary for me to be born?

Simeon: Possibly not, but double chocolate chip cookies aren’t necessarily either but I wouldn’t want to live in a world without them

Leviathan: That is the most uplifting thing I’ve read all day

•

Belphegor: What if your phobias are based off how you died in a past life

Mammon: Why is this not getting around faster

Beelzebub: DUDE

•

Leviathan: It’s 2021 why can’t I delete friends in real life?

Leviathan: Ok so it turns out what I was thinking of it called murder

•

Satan: Next time a conspiracy theorist tries to tell you ‘what really happened’, present a more outlandish theory and accuse them of covering up the truth

Conspiracy theorist: “The moon landing was faked!”

Me: “Pfft, you believe in the moon?”

•

MC: Boys are so lucky they get boners to tell them that they’re horny because girls are just like am I horny or am I hungry or am I bored I don’t know I don’t have a dick

Mammon: That’s definitely an interesting take. But sometimes we get boners for no reason and it’s something like “What is it boy? Did you see something?”

•

Solomon: I just attended the best Passion of the Christ play. As they were “nailing” Jesus to the cross the entire thing broke. No one knew what to do and it got quiet. Finally one of the guards on stage said “you get out of it this time Jesus”

Mammon: Omfg

Leviathan: I CAN’T STOP FUCKING LAUGHING NOBODY LOOK AT ME

Satan: #IT’S BACK

Last • Next

[venusiangguk]

may we see the fight tae oc scene pls pls please!!! u can delete later🤔🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😳 i’m really curious. i mean ofc u don’t have to. still 😧🙃

idealizations concerning real life relations: deleted scene

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / icrlr!couple

>>genre: fwb, angst, rated PG

>>word count: 2.5k

>>warnings: alcohol, implied smut

>>notes: this is a deleted scene from icrlr, that i omitted simply because of the length of the final fic!! feel free to skip or ignore, it doesn't change anything, but since u guys are curious about it, i'll post it as a lil ty for helping me hit that milestone <3 it takes place after the tattoo party scene, and before the lecture scene.

this does NOT provide an alternative ending.

>>summary: taehyung tries to make you see things for what they really are, but it's hard to see through the rose colored glasses.

Winter break has been long awaited and it is finally, finally here. The snow has coated the ground thick, making the town look like a winter wonderland. The air is sharp and cold but not to a miserable extent. Just chilly enough to bundle up, to hold a hand a little tighter and soak up their warmth.

Your favorite season is fall, but the later months are a close second. You love seeing the way everyone’s faces get red when snow flurries come down to kiss their nose and cheeks. Love the way pom poms bounce atop little hats as children play and have snowball fights. Winter is surprisingly one of the warmest, sweetest times of the year. Like the hot coco Jeongguk has been swapping your regular macchiato with lately.

There’s a greatly anticipated party tonight- a mashup of Taehyung’s birthday and New Year’s Eve. Anticipated for the simple fact that said birthday boy has steadily been ignoring you for weeks, and tonight was a night where he couldn’t evade your attempts of reconciliation. He hasn’t returned a single call or even sent a text back. You can’t even be mad at him really, you know it’s justified. You know you fucked up. The coffee date you had with Yoongi last week let you know what you did.

Over an iced coffee, you learned that you had unintentionally skipped out on your best friend's Winter Showcase. The important one that he mentioned multiple times. The one you promised to attend no matter what.

It wasn’t on purpose; you wanted to go, to support him. But you just got caught up. In life, in school, in Jeongguk. It happens.

When Yoongi asked you why you had missed it, when he told you how hurt Taehyung was by your absence, your heart dropped, sank deep within your chest as your mouth fell open before closing, a small pursed frown on your lips. You didn’t have a good excuse. You went to get tattoos with Jeongguk and then to a party where you fucked him, and then home after that? You were too tired to make it? You just simply forgot? Those excuses weren’t good enough for you and you knew they wouldn’t be good enough for Taehyung.

Whereas Yoongi was okay with distance, long periods in between hanging out and talking, Taehyung wasn’t. He was the kind of friend that needed support, reassurance that you cared. He liked quality time and hangs outs that were planned ahead so he could look forward to them. He was looking forward to you being at his showcase.

The party is packed, even more so than usual. Students, drop-outs, alumni, and randoms alike, all congregate to bring in the new year, to celebrate the end of finals, and a certain art majors birthday. Bodies are on bodies, music is loud and deafening. Cups, bottles, and small baggies litter the floor and the smell of weed is nauseating.

Jeongguk’s hand in yours is sweet, though. Enough to ebb the distaste in your mouth as you watch the stereotypical disaster that is a college party.

“I’m going to go find the drinks, okay?” you lie, squeezing Jeongguk’s hand lightly.

He squeezes back, kisses the side of your head as he says, “Bring me one back too?”

You nod, and slip out of his view. Scanning the crowd until you see a familiar face.

Jimin is laughing, red cup in his hand, eyes curled and happy. He’s sitting on the arm of a couch, legs swinging as he laughs with a group of people. He takes a drink from his cup and let’s his eyes roam the room like he’s looking for someone.

The way his face changes when he sees you approaching is like a punch in the gut. It goes from happy, and carefree to stony- only a small, irritated, close-lipped smile on his face. Eyes harsh and cold, no longer holding the mirth they were just seconds ago. He says nothing when you step in front of him, he just looks you over like he’s bored and waiting for you to get on with it so he can be done with it.

You shift on your feet under his scrutiny. “Where’s Tae?” you ask.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you and tilts his head. “Now you want to know where he is? Haven’t been concerned with his whereabouts for months. Definitely weren’t worried about it last week.”

You wince but carry on swiftly. “Listen, I know I fucked up. I’m here to apologize.” You look at him expectantly, but he holds his ground. When he doesn’t falter, you resort to begging, “Please, Jimin. He’s my best friend… I miss him.”

You must look pitiful, because Jimin’s indifferent facade fades, and he clicks his tongue like he’s annoyed at himself for giving into you. “He’s getting us drinks in the kitchen.”

A smile takes over your face as you rush out a ‘thank you’, quickly turning on your heel to head in the opposite direction, before Jimin calls after you.

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him.

“If he’s your best friend, maybe treat him like it, yeah?”

You continue to the kitchen without replying, and you can’t help the little simmer of annoyance that bubbles in your chest. Taehyung has been your best friend for years. And even though Jimin had a point, who was he to tell you anything about yours and Taehyung’s friendship?

Before the thought can fester, however, you see the boy you came looking for, two bottles of vodka in his hand like he’s trying to decide which to use. You see the little party hat atop his shaggy hair before anything else and your heart aches a little. You really did miss him. He lets out a small annoyed sound, and knowing him, he’s probably trying to figure out which has the highest alcohol percentage. You come up next to him, and say his name gently. He jumps, but when he realizes it’s you, the ghost of a smile curls on his lips like he’s happy to see you.

Until it’s replaced with resentment just as quickly. His sharp eyes squint at you before turning back to the bottles in his hands, scowl still in place.

“So you decided you could pencil me in between getting your heart toyed with and your back blown out?” He gives you a side glance and sees how your jaw drops in surprise. He carries on, unbothered. “Or did this just work out because it coincides with New Year’s and because he was invited? Only because he’s Jimin’s friend might I add.”

“Tae-” you try, doing your best to keep the hurt whine out of your tone.

“Save it, __. I don’t want to hear the excuses you have. Just-” he looks at you again, and you think that maybe he softens when he sees your crestfallen features. He sighs like he’s tired. “Just leave me alone. Just for a bit, okay? I’ll get over it eventually,” he finishes, finally deciding on the vodka he wants.

You know his request isn't unreasonable. But it’s already been so long that the distance in your friendship has been eating away at it, that you’re scared ‘eventually’ might take too long and by the time he comes around, there won’t be much of a friendship left. That the damage done, will be irreparable.

“Tae… It’s already been months, can’t we-”

Like night and day, the softness that you were able to pull out of him is immediately replaced with that resentment and anger you were met with when you first stepped into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he seethes, strong brows furrowed. “And whose fault is that?”

His words are sharp and the sting from them makes you take a step back. That is, until you feel anger of your own creep up your throat like venom. “You’re one to talk, Taehyung. You could have reached out to me, too. You’re no better than me when you’re in a relationship.”

He groans, gives an exasperated laugh before shrugging. “You know what? Maybe I am just as bad as you, but at least I’m actually in a relationship,” he spits, “You’re just fucking someone that doesn’t give a fuck about you.”

You know he’s hurt because of the distance. That he doesn’t intend to be so mean. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less, and it doesn’t stop the angry tears from pooling in your eyes.

And although you’re angry, almost shaking with rage at the feeling of being cornered and blamed, your heart aches at hearing his words.

Jimin, who started seeing Taehyung after you started seeing Jeongguk, had already made your friend official. Had given him the title, the commitment, the relationship that you had been patiently and understandingly waiting for with Jeongguk. The bitterness that bleeds into your heart makes you feel gross and ugly.

You know what they say; that labels are superficial and don’t mean that much. But when you don’t have them? It makes you wonder. If a label really isn’t that important, like everyone says, why is Jeongguk so reluctant to give one to you?

“Jimin’s your boyfriend?” you whisper.

Taehyung gives you a short nod. “Month and half ago. You would’ve known if you got your head out of Jeongguk’s ass.”

Almost like he was summoned, the topic of debate waltz into the room, coming up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He nuzzles into your neck.

It’s instinctual now, the way your body responds to him. The way you melt into his chest like second-nature, how your hands settle over his like they are keeping them in place. How immediately in his presence you feel calmer; the panicky, hurt feeling you were experiencing moments ago vanishing as if it were just a fleeting thought and not something that’s always in the back of your head.

Not in a possessive, ‘I need him to be mine’ kind of way, though.

More like, ‘Why won’t he be mine?’

“Hi,” he murmurs into your neck.

“Hi, baby,” you respond softly, out of habit. The room shirks around you whenever he’s near. Makes you feel like you’re in your own bubble with him.

Jeongguk’s about to reply, ask where the drinks are, but then he hears an annoyed scoff sound in front of you both. Jeongguk bristles as he looks up and sees Taehyung taking a big swig from his cup.

“Uh- am I interrupting? Should I go?” he asks hesitantly, looking between you and your friend.

“No-” you say at the same time that Taehyung says, “Yes.”

You cringe, and turn in Jeongguk’s arms, hands resting on his chest. “Just give me a couple more minutes okay? I’ll bring the drinks.”

Jeongguk searches your eyes, before looking at Taehyung one last time before giving you a stern nod and a quick kiss.

You turn back to Taehyung, ready to apologize for Jeongguk’s interruption, when he talks over you.

“You’re pathetic,” he starts, and you roll your eyes with an irritated sigh before he continues, “but I know you love him. And that you can’t help it,” he shrugs. “But as your friend, I have to tell you that it’s not going to end well. You probably don’t even need me to tell you that. You probably already know and are choosing to ignore it for the sake of the delusions you’ve made up in your ‘pretty little head’.”

You pout at him quoting you, and your brows furrow. “He cares about me. And he’s Jimin’s best friend. He’s a good person, you don’t even know him,” you argue defensively. Though you know your arguments make little sense and are flimsy at best.

Taehyung frowns. Pauses like he’s thinking.

“I didn’t say he was a bad person, and maybe he does care about you in his own messed up way. But he doesn’t care about you in the way that you want him to.” His lips are still down turned when he speaks again.

“And the difference between him with you and him with Jimin is astronomical; it shouldn’t even be a comparison, but I will humor you,” he rubs a hand up and down his face like he’s tired. “The dynamic is completely different, for obvious reasons. For one, Jimin is a safe relationship. You are not. Jimin isn’t in love with him, Jimin isn’t sucking his dick, and Jimin doesn’t want things from Jeongguk that Jeongguk cannot give, or does not want to give,” he says with a raised brow as he takes a sip of his drink.

It seems that the anger has died down some between you both, a semi-civil conversation finally being had. You wrinkle your brows in confusion at him. “What are you talking about?”

He rolls his eyes. “Cmon __. Why do you think he hasn’t made you his girlfriend? Why do you think he literally has not been in a serious relationship since high school? Why do you think he never agrees to anything more than 2 months out?” He waits for you to answer but you just purse your lips stubbornly. “He’s scared. Dare I say terrified of commitment, and that’s exactly what you want from him right?”

You stay headstrong and quiet for a moment longer, ignoring his question in favor of asking one of your own when you finally do speak up. “If I’m so scary, why hasn’t he left?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Fuck if I know? Maybe he does care about you like you say he does. I don’t think so, but hey,” He raises his hands in mock surrender, like he is throwing in the figurative towel. “Maybe you’re right and maybe I‘m wrong. Or maybe there’s some fucked up codependency fermenting between you both when you copulate. I genuinely have no clue, and frankly, I don’t care to find out. Don’t text me until you come to your senses. And don’t get mad when I tell you ‘I told you so’.”

And with that, he turns and leaves you to make your own drinks. You hope the smile you give Jeongguk when you find him is believable.

That night when you go back to his place, you voice your concerns to him in between sweet, heated kisses that taste like hot cider. You tell him hesitantly how Taehyung voiced his concerns about Jeongguk not caring about you and Jeongguk got a little irritated, a little miffed as he unlatched his lips from your neck. He asked what Taehyung knew, how he even came to that conclusion when he’s not around you both.

He assured you with gentle touches and tender words that of course he cares about you. He reminded you that he always makes time for you, he always answers your calls and your texts, he takes you out every now and then, too. He asks you what you think and when you contemplate your answer, going over what he said, you can’t really argue with him. Even if an uneasy, dismal feeling settles in the pit of your tummy.

~~~

hellooo!! again, this is just a scene and part of the plot that i chose not to use because i felt like the fic was already so long. i wish that i had ended up including it tho, so i hope you enjoyed even though its nothing special <3 feel free to do the things if you liked it: like, comment, reblog, send an ask~~ love u, ty again for helping me reach that milestone <3

[mittensmorgul]

For anyone interested in long-term residence in the supernatural fandom, please have some observations I’ve made over the decade I’ve been here. Take it or leave it as you will, but I’ve found all of this info useful over the years I’ve been here.

I wrote this yesterday, and it achieved its mission of identifying the sort of folks who would react negatively to it (i.e. a lot of block lists have been updated), so now that it’s been edited for content, it’s going under a cut (because that is how we do things on tumblr in general, unless we have a deliberate purpose for annoying readers with excessively long text posts) for the sake of people who actually do care about the fandom and its history. If that’s not you or your reason for being here, then keep on keeping on with your own thing, I guess. For those who are interested, there’s a lot of fandom resources some of us have been building for years that you might enjoy knowing about.

First off, I’ve been informed by a few friends who’ve read through this for coherency’s sake that it sort of reads like a *shakes cane from porch* fandom grandma complaint, but honestly... I earned this rocking chair and goshdangit imma rock now. So apologies for any “back in my day” vibes or faint aroma of tiger balm this post might give off. Then again, it’s loosely based on a similar post from 2012 so like... time is a flat circle anyway I guess.

1. There is no such thing as “tumblr famous,” unless you’re referring to the hilarious and delightful fic of the same name (please go read it, you will cackle). Posting Hot Takes for imaginary Clout™ on this site is kind of pointless in the long run. Sure you can post solely for the sake of stirring shit and getting notes, but the majority of the folks who do aren’t long term residents of the fandom. They’re just tourists moving through our little beach town for spring break. If you’re actually intent on moving to this corner of the fandom for an extended stay, please bother to really feel out the permanent residents and understand the culture and general mood of the neighborhood. It bears no resemblance to whatever’s going on across town where all the bars and beach parities are happening, and those loud, drunken revelers are, again, gonna disappear back to their regular lives or on to the next party eventually. That doesn’t mean the fandom is dying, it’s just evolving.

(funny how I had several comments implying that I’m just trying to keep the fandom from evolving with this post, because I sincerely do want the fandom to continue on for years to come, and that is impossible without evolution. We can evolve without self-immolating, though. mostly i included point 1 for an excuse to push ancient but hilarious fanfic on you.)

2. Once you post something here, it’s been unleashed to the fandom winds. You never know where it will end up, or who will comment on it or add to it. Remember that time Misha tweeted the link to the Epic Cockles Love Story post? No? It was wild. That was 2012. They all know we’re here, and how to find us if they want to. Please don’t take it to their doorsteps.

Obviously if someone is being a dick on your posts, please feel free to block them, but the whole entire point of this site is to engage people with your posts. Being big mad that someone reblogged your post with comments or supporting evidence, or happy headcanons or “HECK THIS IS GREAT BECAUSE (insert personal story about their experience or whatever else made them Feel Things about your post)” is frankly ridiculous. If your goal is to avoid any sort of engagement with your posts, then maybe try instagram instead. From what I understand, there is a SPN fandom presence there, and nobody can tarnish your original posts with unwanted commentary. But the ability to reblog with additional commentary is a FEATURE of tumblr that builds community through conversation. Otherwise we’re all just talking to ourselves in a vacuum, and that’s what actually kills fandoms.

(and for the folks who just want to blog how they want to blog and don’t want people to engage on their posts at all, please feel free to block anyone you want, as well... nobody wants to step on your toes, but most of us also don’t want to walk on eggshells wondering if this post is one of the “do not add comments for any reason” sorts of posts, either. This is a huge fandom and most people can’t even begin to keep track of every creator and their url du jour, and what their personal rules might be regarding interaction with their content. Including a “please don’t add comments” note at the bottom of your posts-- and not in your tags that won’t even show up on reblogs, but in the actual body of the post-- would sincerely help avoid any awkward or unwanted interactions, too. At the end of the day, you are in control of your own fandom experience and the block button exists.

For the record, I block zero fandom blogs (which is why I posted this, I wanted it to reach a wide scope... refer to the opening paragraphs as to why).

3. Since this post was partly inspired by a tag I left on that post going around about how “previous tags” mean fuckall on this site (which you can read here), just a reminder that if you like someone’s tags or feel they add value to the post, part of the Peer Review structure of tumblr encourages you to PASTE THEM INTO A REBLOG. If you do this, then at least credit the person who actually wrote the tags! Don’t just copy someone else’s tags into your tags on your reblog of the post without credit either. They were not YOUR tags. (I have had this happen to tag rambles I wrote and someone else got credited with them on a subsequent reblog and it is FRUSTRATING). Just... don’t even bother to write “previous tags” because WHAT PREVIOUS TAGS?! Nobody is gonna bother to chase back the chain of reblogs trying to find where the mystery tags came from, friendos. That way lies madness.

(for the record, since some folks seemed to focus on this point solely, writing “previous tags” on a post isn’t inherently a BAD thing, but for anyone who actually is here for more than one-off shitposting, then it’s sort of a pointless thing in the long run. This wasn’t intended to suggest people who ARE here for one-off shitposting are bad or “doing it wrong,” but for people who might actually want to preserve that hilarious joke or insightful comment. People delete posts and entire blogs all the time around here. Links break. I get that the upcoming generation just shrugs at that and moves on with their lives, but heck... you don’t have to accept that all entertainment is disposable if you don’t want to. There’s a bizarre sort of nihilism plaguing us all about the impermanence of pretty much everything that feels like something we should be fighting against rather than buying into wholesale, even in our escapist entertainment. I’m just exhausted by the complete loss of joy in community.

*shouts from the peanut gallery* IT AIN’T THAT DEEP, JUST GET SOME FRESH AIR AND LOOK AT A PUPPY OR SOMETHING

Yes... yes it isn’t really that deep, but bigger picture in the state of reality we’re all entirely disillusioned with, are we supposed to just give up on everything, including the things we cling to because they bring us a tiny spark of hope that we’re not all just trapped in this dystopian nightmare and things might actually be worth living for?

*peanut gallery clinging to burnt husks of peanuts in a barren peanut field* but this is how we have chosen to cope

Okay... you do you... I feel bad for you but if that’s the case then this post is NOT FOR YOU. AND THAT’S FINE. I honestly do not care if you don’t care! I mean, I’m sorry anyone has to live in a world that drives them to that mindset, but I understand. This post is for anyone who might look at their lives and their choices and think “no wait, I unironically enjoy this and want more from the experience of that enjoyment than I’m currently feeling.” Everyone else can continue with their lives as usual.)

4. CONTENT THEFT IS NEVER OKAY. PERIOD. Things like “credit to the artist” or tagging gifs or images you found on pinterest as “not mine” isn’t actually credit. If you can’t source an image or gif set, DO NOT POST IT! We don’t REPOST (i.e. save an image and then create a new post with it as if it was our own creation). We REBLOG (click the little square arrows and reblog from the actual creator). That goes for gif sets, fanvids, screencaps, meta, fic... everything.

(hopefully everyone here already understands this one, but I felt compelled to include some “these are stupidly obvious” reminders anyway, since this is ostensibly some sort of advice column. This is the equivalent of the warning label on your toaster reminding you not to use it in the bath. Like... duh...)

5. Close kin of item 4 is SOURCE YOUR SHIT. 

(for 100% disclosure purposes, I specifically discussed this one in this specific way because of an influx of anon ask messages I received in the wake of the finale. Literally the inciting incident for creating this entire post was what I can only assume was a joking ask about a comment Misha made at a con years ago. Someone actually bothered to take the time to type out those sentences to me. I have no idea what they were expecting in reply, or what could possibly motivate them to send this comment about something so entirely random from, again, several years ago. Just a joke? No idea, but whatever... it got me thinking that there might actually be people who are new to the fandom who MIGHT actually care about the fandom history, and maybe they just don’t know where to go for that info, or how to even begin searching through 16 years of history for things they might actually find enjoyment in, rather than just hauling random out of context garbage out on main and pointing and laughing about it now. People are actually allowed to care about things. It’s not cringeworthy to actually care about things, and you are not alone in actually caring, and there’s this whole big room over here full of people who are thrilled to share in that with you. This post is intended FOR THOSE PEOPLE SPECIFICALLY, so if that is not you, please just continue walking by.)

Yes, I know lots of y’all are new around here right now, but dredging up stuff from years ago that fandom has completely debunked and presenting it as TRU FAX again is just exhausting. We’re not trying to be party poopers, but seriously, we have seen it all and are mostly done with extinguishing bags of flaming dog poop on our front porches for the umpteenth year in a row. I’ve seen a lot of posts that have the same tone as “I saw Goody Proctor dancing with the devil” or “I heard kylo ren has an eight pack” and just... the information is there for anyone who cares enough to find it.

This goes double for “why is nobody talking about this thing I just discovered while watching the show for the first time?!” And, oh hon, we have talked it all into the ground over the last fifteen years. We’re happy you’re discovering it again, but I promise we talked about it plenty when the episodes originally aired. We have such a rich meta history that lots of us have worked really hard to preserve. I encourage you to seek it out, if nothing else than as historical artifacts. The way we have discussed the show has been a 16-year evolution. People have written literal doctoral dissertations on this show. Your shitposts are fun! We love reliving our own experience through fresh eyes, and seeing your wonder at experiencing it all again for the first time! But y’all didn’t invent this fandom in the last six months, either.

Meta Sources and Minerals provided by our friendly neighborhood fandom archivist, @lets-steal-an-archive

Academic books and articles about SPN 

A collection of Meta Essays going back to s1 and organized by topic (all of this has happened before, all of it will happen again)

SPN Heavy Meta Archive (s1-3)

Mel’s Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-12)

Oranges8hands Dreamwidth archive of meta (s1-15, with many similar entries to Mel’s... though ymmv on viewpoint in a lot of these too)

Anyone remember Fandom Wank? Not the concept but the actual LJ... No? Okay have a link to SPN topics that ended up there. Through 2013. We have seen so much... including several fandom containment breaches.

for all your art sourcing needs, please see @theroadsofararchive, the repository for so much fandom art.

need to find a gif of something? canonspngifs is a vast repository of gifsets of the entire series. If the gif you want to use in your post happens to be the first gif in the gifset, in the tumblr gif finder thingy just paste the permalink to that post from canonspngifs (which is easily searchable by episode, character, location, situation, quotes, and sometimes even color and clothing items the actors are wearing... it’s really well organized, especially for tumblr >.>) and the first gif will be automatically linked with credit to the gif creator attached. It makes life easy that way. It’s also convenient when trying to remember something specific but can’t remember what episode it’s from. I’ve used the site to jog my memory before going to the superwiki armed with more specific search results to find episode quotes and references. Or sometimes I just scroll through all the nice gifs for fun, too.

Need a screencap of something and know exactly which episode it’s from? Try Home of the Nutty. You might not find the exact screencap you’re looking for, but they have a complete set of caps of every episode, and it’s an incredibly useful resource for quick reference checks and the like. Just give pages a chance to fully load before clicking on the next one. The site is easily overloaded, but it’s still free to use (and again, with credit... Pretty much every screencap on my entire blog is from HotN unless otherwise credited).

As you can see, this is a fandom built on preserving our history. You absolutely are not required to engage with any of this if that’s not of interest to you, but I can only assume that there are people who would be interested in it if only they knew it existed and how to find it. Well, now they do.

6. A few more notes on tags, and how they work on tumblr. The first 20 tags on your ORIGINAL posts are searchable sitewide, so if you want to be able to find something again, tag that thing first before going on general tag rambles. The only place tags on reblogs are searchable is on your own blog. So you don’t have to put 50 tags trying to get a post seen if it’s a reblog. You’re just spitting into the wind at that point. If you have a filing system for finding things again, then by all means add those tags (again, in the first 20, so they’re searchable), but you don’t need to tag a reblog “destiel” and “deancas” and “dean” and “cas” and “dean x cas” or whatever. Pick one for your personal blog’s filing system, that’s all you need.

(this was only added because tagging and searching on this site is so very broken... I get that a lot of folks don’t care about ever searching their own blogs again for anything, so this one only really applies if you do often find yourself trying to find old posts. If not, then it’s not really relevant.  It took me years to work out a decent tagging system, and at the beginning of my time here I never thought I’d end up camping out here for a decade and falling this deep into the fandom, and I regretted my lack of consistent tags only years later when I realized I actually wanted to be able to go back and find specific old posts again. So... for anyone who wants to err on the side of caution, working out a sensible tagging system really helps if you’re here for the long term. I personally tag content by episode, because some of my other general tags are so large as to be practically useless as a search term. But whatever system you choose to file stuff on your own blog, it really only has to make sense to you. And again, if this is pointless advice for someone who has no intention of settling here for the long term. Please feel free to ignore it. I just wish someone had explained it this way to me ten years ago and saved me the hassle of retroactively tagging something like 30k posts... especially now that using the mass tag replacer is the fastest way to get your entire blog deleted... oops? so yeah, don’t use the mass tag replacer either >.>)

7. Tags on Tumblr DO NOT WORK LIKE TAGS ON TWITTER. If you @ someone in the body of the post, it will show up in their notifications (if they’re the sort of person who even checks their notifications... not all of us do. For the record, I generally don’t...), but putting actor or ship names in the tags on a tumblr post does absolutely nothing. It’s not the same as tagging the actor’s twitter account in a tweet. Nobody’s getting notifications about you tagging a post about Jensen here as “Jensen Ackles.” There is a difference. Please learn it. (and don’t take headcanons and ESPECIALLY RPF or otherwise explicit art or fic from tumblr to twitter and tag the actors in it. That’s just... not okay.)

(I have seen the pearl clutchers getting all in a huff about the mere existence of RPF or even explicit content of fictional characters if it doesn’t meet their purity standards, but tagging those things allows people who don’t want to see it to actively avoid that content here. Nobody has a right to tell people their fictional content shouldn’t exist at all, or that creators of that fictional content somehow deserve harassment or threats for having dared to create such “immoral” content, won’t somebody PLEASE think of the children... and no... you do not do that here. Don’t be the problematic behavior you wish to ban from the world. Learn to use tags to protect yourself from, as i have attempted to emphasize here, fictional content you are personally upset by. That’s a you problem, not a problem for the creators of potentially upsetting content that they tag appropriately for.)

8. General formatting stuff: If you’re writing long text posts, visually break them up so people aren’t faced with one long wall of text. The enter key is your friend. Also, if you put long text posts under a Read More break and send people to your blog to finish reading, please ensure that your blog is actually visually accessible (tiny text, or light grey text on a dark grey background, or a visually busy background might be aesthetically pleasing to you but nobody can actually read it. Loads of folks won’t even try. Which is great if you don’t actually care whether people are able to appreciate your content or not, but something to at least consider if you *do* actively want to encourage engagement with your work. Confirm how your blog looks on both mobile and desktop and make sure it’s actually functional in both, too).

And since I mentioned that most of my experience on fandom tumblr has been in the SPN fandom, here’s a bit of a reminder for folks who are new around here. With the reminder that I have been here more than a decade and still feel like a newbie myself sometimes...

This is an OLD FANDOM. There are many, many people who have been at this longer than some of you have been alive. The average age for creators in this fandom is older than you think (I think of my friends in their 30′s as young’ins okay? okay). With that understood, you are responsible for the content you consume and are exposed to. Curate your experience. Ship and let ship. YKINMKATOK. Don’t deliberately expose yourself to content you find upsetting for whatever reason. Tags and warnings are your friends, not targets for you to attack in some sort of purity war. People will ship things you do not like (or in specific ways you do not like), will say things you do not agree with, and will find their happiness in things you abhor. That is not your concern. Find what you do like, and support and engage with it, and ignore (or block, or unfollow) the rest. Tumblr has a feature that lets you blacklist tags so the content you’re trying to avoid won’t appear on your dash.

Remember the paradox of tolerance.

It is not your job in fandom to police how other people enjoy the fandom. It’s not *my* job to police how *you* enjoy the fandom, UNLESS your enjoyment is in actively harming other real human beings in the fandom. If you don’t like their take on the character or the show or the plotlines or their ships or anything else, you don’t need to engage with their posts at all! The necessary corollary to this is that clarifying misunderstandings or correcting factual misinformation is not “policing.” 

(this is where the peanut gallery reminds me it ain’t that deep, and I plead with them to put down the social media and find just one (1) thing to actually believe in in this godforsaken life, find something other than disdain and cynicism and spite to live for. If those things motivate you to find a larger cause for yourself, then great, use them to your advantage, but use them to find something that makes you a better person or brings you a modicum of joy and connection to your fellow human beings despite living in a dystopian hellscape of a world)

I have seen a lot of posts lately that are founded on the sort of authority that comes with “I watched through tumblr for a few months and then watched the last three episodes of the series” and as such are just... missing the larger context of the entire show, and are unfounded entirely in canon. I 100% appreciate the new enthusiasm for the fandom that we’ve been living in here for years, and it’s wonderful to see new people enjoying the thing we love. Your headcanons are valid, you are valid, but recognize that your headcanons aren’t canon. All of us finale denialists have accepted this in some measure, so we feel you. We truly, truly feel you. But regarding actual canon, we have a resource for that: the Superwiki. Learn it, live it, love it, as Metatron would say.

(which you could discover he said in 10.17 Inside Man, thanks to the superwiki! accept no substitutes!)

(and again, there have been people who have been involved in fandom for years who haven’t engaged with canon in years, either! You can play in this universe however you choose, BUT FOR PEOPLE WHO ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT CANON AT ALL, WHICH I AM AGAIN POINTEDLY SAYING MIGHT NOT BE YOU, READER, AND I’M NOT SUGGESTING YOU ARE WRONG FOR NOT WANTING TO ACTUALLY ENGAGE WITH CANON, but if you DO want to engage with canon, please have some useful resources. Why do people feel personally attacked by being presented a list of helpful resources? Absolutely baffling.)

(also: words have definitions. “Canon” is a specific thing, meaning in this case “the finished media product that aired on television.” Anything beyond those limits is secondary canon (think: john’s journal, which is not canon but canon adjacent at best...), word of god (i.e stuff said by the writers and showrunners), or headcanon (which includes actor commentary-- they may have helped create the show with their acting choices and whatever, but they are not in control of the story overall). If there’s something you dislike about actual canon, you can reject it and supplement it with your own theories or preferred outcomes-- that’s basically what fanfic is-- but that doesn’t make your theories canon (much to all our dismay, that’s just not how any of this works. This is not to invalidate how anyone engages with the show or the fandom, just trying to clarify what seems to have been a source of unintentional misunderstandings. Your theories do not have to be “canon” to be legitimate interpretations.)

***I am setting this section apart, and did make a separate post of just this following information, because this is where we go from being relatively chill about different parts of fandom choosing to interact in different ways and you do you and blog however you want, to “hey can everybody please understand that the way you are interacting with this specific material might be harmful for specific legal reasons, and stating that you do not care about the consequences of your actions does actively make you the asshole here...” Okay, now that we have that understood:

The spnscripthunt collective has been steadily acquiring new scripts (which are posted in full on the superwiki for everyone to enjoy, for free). The language around how some folks are talking about these scripts is... concerning. For very real legal reasons, actually, and not because we’re feeling precious about the collection and don’t wike it when meanies use them in shitposts.

-First off, these scripts are not “leaks.” They are all verified and legally purchased (or gifted, in some cases, but still acquired entirely above board. we didn’t whack anyone over the head in a back alley for these scripts, or swipe them out of someone’s trailer on set).

(in case anyone was unaware, these scripts are the copywritten protected property of Warner Brothers. So yes, how we use them and share them with the fandom could have legal repercussions. We present them as a collected resource of fandom history which SHOULD fall under Fair Use doctrine, but this is untested legal water. Insinuating that the scripts are somehow not entirely legally obtained, or that posting them for public access involved less than 100% transparent and entirely legal transactions is incredibly concerning.

Once again for the peanut gallery, if you don’t care about any of that and are just having a good time with it, at least be mindful of the work and expense a large group of people have gone through to acquire and present the content you’re all too eager to exploit for cheap thrills. Some of us do actually care and are not exactly comfortable with the fact that others don’t seem to care about burning it all to the ground. We can’t force you to listen or behave as we’d hope you might, but at least be aware of the potential consequences of your actions. All we’re asking is for you to not be the douchebag who sets the whole neighborhood on fire with your illegal fireworks display. Is that too much to ask for? more on that in a second, first... a psa)

-If you see a script for sale and are unsure if it’s legit (or believe it might already be freely available in our collection), please feel free to ask us for advice. Our goal is to make as much of our fandom history available to the entire fandom, and we absolutely do not want anyone shelling out money for stuff you can already find for free.

(seriously, we’ve seen a bunch of resellers cropping up selling printed versions of the scripts we bought and uploaded for everyone to enjoy free of charge, or scripts that are otherwise of dubious origin. We’ve been at this for years now and know what’s actually out there. We don’t want anyone to fall for a scam if we can help it)

-Also, the usual reminder that the scripts we acquire ARE NOT NECESSARILY THE FINAL SHOOTING DRAFTS. In fact, the majority of scripts in our collection are NOT. Changes are made daily to scripts, even during filming. Comparing a Production Draft (white pages, effectively the first “final draft” of what usually becomes a series of drafts before filming wraps) to a much later revision (say... green or goldenrod revisions, several of which we DO have in our collection for comparison) and how those earlier drafts often differ wildly from the aired version versus how similar a much later green draft is to the aired version, for example, can teach you a lot about the television writing process. The link above to the superwiki scripts page has a nice little explainer about how this process works.

Differences between our posted scripts (many of which are white drafts, aka FIRST complete drafts, which will likely go through multiple rounds of revisions before filming even begins) and the aired version of the show are not all “acting choices” or a director or editor just cutting whole scenes on a whim. It’s insulting to everyone involved in production to suggest that’s the case.

(and yeah, fine... whatever, make any sort of posts you like regarding how those changes came about, but at the very least understand that it’s not actually the truth about how any of this works. Don’t care that that’s not the truth and want to make the posts anyway because shitposting is fun and that’s the extent of your sense of humor? FINE! You’re entitled to do that! But at least you DO know the truth now, and hopefully so do the people who engage with your posts. Deliberate ignorance isn’t cute, smooth lions notwithstanding)

There’s probably a whole other post to be made on fandom tagging etiquette, but again I don’t really use the tags enough to know what’s going on with that whole situation. I’ve also probably left a lot of stuff out, so please feel free to add things I’ve overlooked.

Thanks also to @trisscar368 and @thayerkerbasy for help compiling this, too. They were kind enough to escort me through the park to feed these pigeons. Now I need to take them out for ice cream. :’D

So I guess welcome to the neighborhood. Make yourself at home, but like... try not to trash the place while you’re here. Some of us live here by choice, lol.

[sleepysnk]

hey y'all! i decided to make a fic for our lovely Jean boy. i got this idea after Sunday's episode :(, he deserves so much love right now. this is the longest fic i've written, so i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Close the Gap

Pairings: Jean Kirstein x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: None just fluff

Long distances relationships were always something many people tended to avoid. 

The idea of a long distance relationship made (Y/N) feel queasy, her stomach would always churn at the idea of dating somebody who was miles away from her. She heard the many scary stories from her friends about these people not being who they said they were, or the horror stories of girls going missing after meeting with these people. 

Not to mention she always binged watched MTV'S Catfish the TV Show at 3 A.M. watching how people would get catfished. The show was another reason why she tended to avoid dating anyone who was pretty far away. Her worst fear was to find that the person she trusted wasn't who they said they were. 

That all changed seven months ago when she met him. 

More specifically, Jean Kirstein.

(Y/N) was feeling pretty lonely, she was desperate for a relationship at the time and her best friend Sasha told her about some dating apps she could use. She wasn't exactly down to set her up with one of her friends. (Y/N) took the offer on the dating app and set up a profile. 

She met a few decent guys, but they always ended up sending the usual "send me some pics" or "u down to hook up?" texts. Most of the guys on the apps were idiots who were looking just for a quick fuck or something short term, which isn't something (Y/N) wanted. 

She complained to Sasha about it and even considered just deleting the apps, but she told her to just give it one more shot. 

She was glad she did. 

(Y/N) was swiping through the different guys on the app. Some caught her eye or some made her face scrunch with disgust. 

Her swiping stopped when her eyes landed on him. She was instantly attracted to him, his sharp jawline, shaggy light brown hair which was a bit long, his golden brown eyes, toned chest and that goddamn smile. He had a sly smile that made her feel butterflies. 

After she looked at his profile she was hooked. He seemed like a really sweet guy based on his description. He knew how to cook, draw, he played sports, worked out, etc. He also seemed really sweet as well. 

She was tempted to text him first, but she decided not to. The few times she did message a guy first it ended with the guy being dry, or sending some gross messages complimenting her body rather than her face. 

She totally forgot that day that she added him until she got the notification. 

Jean: hey! i saw your profile and let me just say you are gorgeous ❤

From that day forward the two talked every night, they spent many nights texting until they both felt tired, exchanging social media as well. She learned a lot about him, Jean was a fitness major at his university and he wanted to be a personal trainer. They connected on a lot of things, they had a lot of the same likes and dislikes which made the conversations they had even greater. 

She told Jean about the many shitty experiences she had with guys and how she was very hesitant to even give him a chance. Jean shared a lot of the same stories, he had gotten cheated on about a year prior before getting the app. (Y/N) felt bad for him, why cheat on a nice guy like Jean?

Facetiming him was definitely one of her favorite things to do, she told him about how freaked out she was about trying online dating due to how easy it was to fake an online personality. Jean assured her that was not the case and he wasn't a fake person at all. 

Seeing his face on facetime made her heart swell, he was 10x more attractive on facetime than his photos. He had this amazing smile that made her feel weak, and whenever he laughed she found herself having butterflies. Jean thought the same about (Y/N), he thought she was absolutely gorgeous and he wanted to see her face a lot more. 

He always threw a flirt her way whenever he could, Jean was smooth like that. He told her if she was ever unsure of an outfit that she was to send him a picture, and when she did, he was absolutely speechless. Sending the usual heart eyes and telling her how beautiful she was. His words always made her smile. 

While things were perfect for them, there was one small issue. 

They both lived very far from each other. 

Opposite coasts to be exact. 

Jean lived on the East coast while (Y/N) lived on the west. They lived miles away from each other, and although it wasn't a huge bother, it always made her feel lonely. 

Jean felt the same way, he felt lonely being so far away from her. Parts of him wished he lived closer so he could just drive and see her, but with how far it is, he knew it would probably be a very long drive and he just didn't have the time for that. Nor did (Y/N).

They spent many nights talking about dates they'd go on, things they'd do, etc. Jean told her how he would so make a meal for her and he'd take her to meet his mom. All those things sounded so nice, she wanted it to happen so bad.

But they just lived too far from one another.

Plus they both had very busy schedules, both were too caught up with assignments and their own personal lives that flying out wouldn't be exactly a good idea. 

It was unfortunate, but that was the reality of the situation. 

Even with all of that, they still held onto one another. For some reason, Jean didn't want to let her slip by. For the first time, she made him genuinely happy. (Y/N) felt the same way towards Jean, she always found herself being excited to see his name pop up in her phone or when he asked to facetime. There was just something about this boy she didn't want to let go of. He was the only guy who saw her for who she was, and not just her body. 

Neither of them wanted to let this opportunity slip by.

-

Here they were, seven months later. They still kept up with each other every day, though having not met yet, the feelings they both had never changed. 

They weren't dating, but they only talked to each other. Neither had wandering eyes. 

It was a usual night for the two of them, (Y/N) and Jean were on facetime while she did homework and Jean sat playing video games. She didn't mind the gaming, it was something he liked to do so why dislike it?

She was copying notes when her eyes averted upwards towards her phone screen which was propped up. Jean was shirtless sitting in his chair, he had his headset on his head with one of the earmuffs behind his ear. He was focused on the game, his brows pinching together a few times as he played. 

A giggle escaped her lips, making Jean look down at his phone with a smile. 

"What are you giggling about?" he asked, bringing his face close to the camera. 

She smiled. "Oh nothin' you just look really cute playing your game," she replied and set her pen down on the desk. 

He licked his lips and leaned back against his chair, eyeing the screen. "I'd say you look pretty damn fine doing homework," he replied, raising his brows.

Heat rushed to her cheeks, rolling her eyes in the process. "Ugh shush! I look like a total mess," she said and looked away from the screen. 

Jean chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nah.. you look like the girl who's gonna have my last name," he replied, smirking. 

Her jaw dropped from his comment, a smile grew onto her lips as her cheeks felt hot. He was smooth like that. 

"You are quite smooth," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Another chuckle escaped his throat. "Yeah I'm smooth.. only for you though," he said, winking at the camera. 

"You're adorable.. I wish you were here so I could squeeze your cheeks," she said and played with her pen. 

Jean nodded. "I wish I was there with you too.." he said, looking down at the ground. "I'd like my cheeks squeezed but I'd want to squeeze yours.. if you know what I mean," he added. 

She started laughing a bit. "Ugh Jean I never get tired of you," she replied, looking at her phone screen. "Will you ever be here?" she asked.

Jean fell silent and leaned back against the chair. A sigh escaping his lips. "I have no idea (Y/N).. my schedule has been busy lately, plus I don't really have the funds to fly out anytime soon." he replied, his voice filled with disappointment.

She felt a slight tug at her heart, she knew they probably wouldn't meet for a long time. Many of her friends told her that Jean wasn't worth her time at all and that she needed someone who could come see her. Her friends also said it's not worth it at all and that he'd probably end up hooking up with some girl, and totally forgetting about her. That's something she absolutely didn't want to think about.

"(Y/N)? You alright?" Jean asked, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She shook her head, blinking a few times. "Y-Yeah! Sorry, I zoned out.." she replied and smiled a bit.

He put his controller on his desk, he stared at the screen for a few moments. "You know (Y/N) I really want to meet you, trust me I do. I know how much it bothers you that we can't at the moment, but I promise you, we will meet some day." he said with a serious expression. 

She felt her heart swell at his words, Jean always knew what to say to make her feel like a princess. Jean always said from day one that they would meet, it was a promise he had yet to fulfill, but he told her to never worry and that he'll make it happen. She just has to believe him. 

"I trust your words Jean," she said, smiling a bit.

A grin grew onto his face. "Ugh.. this is why I want to meet you so bad. I wanna see that pretty smile in person," he said and leaned against his desk. 

Her cheeks felt hot from his words. "You're too sweet," she replied, rolling her eyes playfully. 

Jean chuckled. "Sweet enough for you,"

Suddenly, (Y/N) heard her bedroom door fly open. 

"Hey (Y/N)!- Oh crap.. did I interrupt something?" 

Her head snapped back to see her best friend Sasha standing in the doorway. 

"Oh not at all Sash, I was just talking to Jean." (Y/N) replied, looking back at the camera. 

Sasha grinned widely, she knew who he was ever since they started talking. Jean was cool with her, he felt like first impressions with friends are always important. 

"Hey Jean!" Sasha yelled, coming down to her phone. "Ooo.. (Y/N) he's shirtless for you," she teased, elbowing her side. 

Her jaw dropped as her cheeks grew hot again. "Can you not! Why are you even here anyway?" she asked, looking up at her friend. 

"Uh duh, I'm here to discuss Valentine's Day plans! You know.. Connie and stuff," she replied in a whisper. 

(Y/N) rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh fine! Hey Jean, is it cool if I call you back later? Sash here needs boy advice," she asked, grabbing her phone. 

Jean smiled. "Yeah totally.. text me okay? Be safe." he replied. 

She felt a wide smile grow onto her cheeks. "I most definitely will!" she said, hanging up the call. 

Sasha leaned against the wall with a giant smirk on her face. (Y/N) looked up, her head nodding as she was confused as to why she was acting like that. 

"What?" she asked, furrowing her brows. 

A giggle escaped Sasha's lips. "Oh nothing! Ugh (Y/N)! When are you finally going to meet Jean? Have you guys even made it official yet?" she asked. 

She looked down. "No.. we haven't made it official. We aren't dating Sasha, we're just talking and stuff." she replied, shrugging her shoulders. 

Sasha crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe it's time you do it! You've been talking for months, and I feel like it's a good time. Especially with Valentine's Day and all," she said. 

(Y/N) wasn't sure if what Sasha was saying was a good idea. How the hell would she even ask out Jean? Over a facetime call? That sounded boring. It also sounded too cliche and not special at all. 

"I would Sash but asking him out over a phone just sounds so.. middle school," she replied and stood up. "It's not like I can fly out and ask him out or whatever," she added. 

A grin was displayed onto Sasha's face. "I guess you're right," she said and shrugged her shoulders. 

"Now come on… let's go discuss things for Connie," (Y/N) said, pushing past her. 

Sasha grinned again, following her friend. 

-

(Y/N) spent most of the week helping Sasha with her Valentine's Day gift for Connie. Sasha had some odd ideas, but eventually they came to an agreement on a decent idea. 

For some reason, things felt off with Jean.

The past few days she noticed a change in his behavior, he became a little less interested in their conversations and his replies were a bit dry. Of course she blamed it on him maybe being tired from classes or working out, but she wasn't exactly sure if that was the reason. She questioned it a few times, but Jean usually replied with a 'wym?'.

"(Y/N)!? Hello? Come on help me finish this," 

Sasha's voice broke her out of the thoughts she was having. "Sorry! What's up?" she asked, blinking a bit. 

Sasha put the bag of snacks down. "Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting weird all day," she said and crossed her arms. 

(Y/N) sighed. "Yes I'm fine Sasha," she replied and leaned back in her chair.

She nodded her head and sat back down in front of her. "Alright.. can you just organize this for me?" she asked, tossing the bag towards her. 

(Y/N) grabbed the stuff and began to sort through the items Sasha bought Connie. She wasn't exactly alright, she was feeling lonely the past few days. She saw all of her friends getting ready for Valentine's Day with their significant others, while she didn't have anybody. The pink and red boxes of chocolates, the teddy bears, roses, everything! It made her feel lonely and with Jean's behavior… it didn't exactly make it better.

She looked at her phone which displayed no messages from Jean. For some reason he hasn't been messaging her a lot lately. 

2:31 P.M.<- (Y/N): hey :)) 

4:23 P.M.<- (Y/N): i hope your day is going well! ♡

She sighed and went back to the gift for Connie. 

"What are you doing for Valentine's Day, (Y/N)?" Sasha asked and looked up at her. 

She shrugged her shoulders. "Probably just watching Netflix movies," she replied with disappointment in her voice. 

She nodded her head. "What!? No! You're not gonna do that on my watch. Why don't you come hangout with Connie and I?" she asked. 

A laugh escaped her lips. "Yeah I so wanna do that. Watching you two make out and eat is so much fun," she replied in a teasing voice. 

Sasha blushed. "Oh shut up! Come on.. I know you won't have anyone to hang with," she said and pouted a bit. 

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I can always call up Eren or something," she said and laughed a bit. 

Sasha hit her arm. "No! You're hanging with me and that's final! Plus why would you wanna hangout with Eren? He'd probably take you to some party," she said. 

"Yeah you're probably right," (Y/N) replied, chewing her lip. 

She threw her a smile. "Exactly!" she said and went to go look at her phone. 

(Y/N) looked on her own phone as she felt disappointed seeing no messages from Jean. She hated double texting him, she felt like she was a bother and that she was annoying him. Maybe he just didn't have his phone on him. 

A sudden squeal came from Sasha, which made (Y/N) look up in surprise.

"Uh.. are you okay?" she asked and blinked a bit. 

Sasha looked at her, composing herself. "Oh- u-um! Yeah totally, Connie was just telling me something. That's all," she replied and looked down at her phone. 

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Ugh Connie.." she said, shaking her head. 

-

The next two days were kind of difficult for (Y/N). Jean had totally changed his behavior, he was more dry, took longer to respond, and even on their facetime call he didn't seem very interested. If she did want to facetime, he would claim he was busy or he didn't exactly seem to pay attention. 

Her mind raced with different thoughts about the situation. What if Jean was getting tired of her? What if this was the situation all of her friends told her about? How guys who live far end up leaving you for someone who lives near them. It hurt to think about. 

"I don't know his behavior just changed!" 

She was currently ranting to Sasha who came over for a bit. "He's been dry? I mean.. Connie can be dry," she replied, playing with her pillow. 

"No like overly dry, Jean is never dry! He always keeps the conversation going, he doesn't even send me good morning texts anymore either!" she said and sat up. 

Sasha nodded as she listened to her words. "Have you tried asking at all?" she asked. 

(Y/N) sighed. "I did on facetime and he sort of dodged the question," she replied. 

"I dunno (Y/N).. maybe just see what happens? Maybe he's got some personal stuff going on" Sasha said. 

(Y/N) shrugged. "Couldn't say.." 

A sudden ping from Sasha's phone made her ears chirp, she reached over and looked at her phone. She started jumping around excitedly. 

"What? What happened?" (Y/N) asked, furrowing her brows. 

Sasha looked at her. "I gotta go! Connie texted me about something.. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" she said, shoving her phone in her pocket. 

She felt confused as to why Sasha was leaving. "Uh.. yeah, okay. See you later," she replied and watched as Sasha exited her room and out the front door. 

She flopped onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling as her mind clouded with thoughts about Jean. Her mind was playing scenarios she didn't want to see, Jean finding someone else would absolutely crush her. In a way, it would be for the best, considering they haven't even met, but she was in too deep with feelings. She didn't want anybody else. 

She grabbed her phone, she opened their messages and scrolled to see if there was anything she could have said to make him upset. Jean was always one to communicate with her, he'd always tell her if he was having a bad day or someone pissed him off. Why wasn't he doing that now? Her eyes scanned over the most recent message she sent.

7:21 P.M.<- (Y/N): did you go working out? i bet you're getting those gains! <3 lol.

Another sigh escaped her lips reading the words 'delivered'. What was going with him? 

-

It was Valentine's Day. 

(Y/N) wasn't exactly in the best mood today, that feeling of loneliness lingered in her mind as she scrolled through different couples getting gifts and going on special dates. All the things she yearned for. 

She sent Jean a message that morning and of course, he didn't respond. He read her messages from the previous night, but he never sent a genuine response. It made her heart feel heavy, maybe this was it. Maybe Jean just got tired of waiting around for her and found someone better. 

She shoved her phone into her pocket as she knocked on the door of Sasha's apartment. She looked around as many people exited their apartments. 

"Hey! You made it! We have all kinds of snacks!" Sasha yelled, opening the door so she could come inside. 

(Y/N) smiled and stepped in. The aroma of food filled her nose. "Wow Sasha.. this smells great," she said, taking off her shoes. 

Connie came in from the living room holding a plate. "Hey (Y/N)! Good to see you," he said and waved at her. 

She smiled as she plopped down at the kitchen table, she grabbed a few pieces of candy and tossed them into her mouth. She tried to forget the upsetting thoughts for the night. 

"You want something to eat?" Sasha asked as she came over with a plate of food. 

(Y/N) shook her head. "I'm fine.. thank you Sasha," she replied, looking down at the table. 

Connie came over and set a cup of soda in front of her. "Have something to drink at least," he said and sat next to Sasha. 

She swirled around the soda that bubbled towards the top. "Thanks.." she replied and took a sip of the lemon flavored soda. 

The two started eating and (Y/N) sat there looking at her phone, she silently hoped that Jean would message her back. It had been a few hours since she sent her last message, she felt disappointment going through her veins. She guessed that Jean was ghosting her, it hurt a ton, but there wasn't much she could do. 

"(Y/N)! Connie loved the gift!" Sasha said and wiped her mouth with the napkin. 

She nodded and gave a small smile. "Oh that's cool! I'm glad you liked it," she replied and looked towards Connie. 

He smiled. "Yeah it was dope! It had all my favorite snacks," he said, looking at Sasha with a grin.

(Y/N) felt the heaviness in her heart, she wished someone would look at her the way Connie looked at Sasha. 

"Hey what about that Jean guy you were talking to? I meant to ask," Connie asked and looked at her. 

She laughed a bit. "Uh.. well I don't know what's going on with that. He's been kind of distant lately so I guess he's getting tired of me. It's understandable I guess.." she replied, looking down at the floor. 

They could hear the sorrow in her voice. "I'm sorry (Y/N).. you'll find someone, I know you will." Sasha said.

She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know guys.. I feel like after this I just wanna focus on me," she said, taking out her phone.

Connie looked over at her. "Don't say that now.. come on, have some hope." he said and gave a playful smile. 

She rolled her eyes playfully. "I'll try," she replied. 

Sasha and Connie finished up their food and cleaned the dishes, (Y/N) sat on the couch as the movie played on the tv. It was some romantic movie which she didn't even bother to pay attention to, she didn't exactly want to watch one at the moment. 

Sasha appeared in the living room, she had her phone in her hand. "Hey whatcha doing?" she asked, leaning over to look at her phone. 

"Oh nothing, just scrolling through Instagram," (Y/N) replied and clicked her phone off. 

A ping went off as Sasha got a notification, she looked at her phone as a grin displayed on her features making (Y/N) curious. 

"Did Connie send you nudes in the bathroom or something?" she asked and began to laugh.

A blush crept onto Sasha's cheeks. "What!? Absolutely not! You're so gross (Y/N)!" she yelled, hitting her arm. "Let's play a game, I'm bored." she added and stood up.

(Y/N) nodded. "A game? Sasha I'm not twelve.." she said and leaned against the couch. 

Sasha came in with what seemed to be a blindfold. "Come on! It's fun okay? You just have to feel something and guess what it is," she said, crossing her arms. 

"A blindfold? Jeez Sash.. didn't know you and Connie were into blindfolds," she said, starting to laugh. 

Sasha hit her arm playfully. "Shut up! No I'm not into blindfolds.. you're gross! Just come here," she said and waved her over.

(Y/N) stood up and tossed her phone onto the couch. She walked over to Sasha who seemed excited to play, she hoped that this game wouldn't be weird.

"Alright.. let's get started," Sasha said, going behind her to tie the blindfold over her eyes. 

She faintly heard the sound of the front door opening, she was confused as to who came in. Then she remembered Connie went to go throw out the garbage, so she figured it was Connie coming back in. 

"Okay first thing!" Sasha said and held out the item for her to touch. 

(Y/N)'s fingers brushed over the item, it felt cold. It felt like plastic too, was it a box? It felt smooth.

"Is this like.. a box or something?" she asked, looking around with the blindfold on. 

She heard giggles and laughs coming from Connie and Sasha. "Yeah it's a box! Here's the next item," Sasha said.

Her fingers brushed over the soft material, it felt velvety and smooth. It felt like petals from a flower. 

"Are these flowers?" she asked. 

"Damn (Y/N)! You're good at this! Here's the last thing," Connie said, his voice sounding faded. 

She furrowed her brows as she heard whispering and shuffling, she was tempted to remove the blindfold to see if they were playing a prank.

"Okay here," Sasha said. 

She reached out feeling something hard, it felt like.. a chest? Her brows furrowed again as she ran her fingers along it. 

"Sasha is this your chest? Connie is definitely not this muscular," (Y/N) asked, looking around for their voices. 

Sasha giggled. "No it's not me! You can take your blindfold off in a sec," she said, taking out her phone. 

(Y/N) felt nervous as she kept her hands on the person's chest, they felt warm and she could feel their heart racing against her skin. 

"Okay now!" Sasha yelled. 

(Y/N) removed her blindfold, letting her eyes adjust. When she looked up she was faced with the honey eyes of the person she least expected. 

It was Jean.

Her jaw dropped as her hands slapped over her mouth, she couldn't believe it. He held in his hands flowers and a box of chocolate, the flowers being her favorite. Roses. He stood there smiling at her reaction, she looked back seeing Sasha recording and Connie laughing.

"You're real.." (Y/N) said, looking at Jean with wide eyes. 

He smiled. "I'm real," he replied, opening his arms for her. 

She tackled him with a bone crushing hug, his arms wrapping around her waist surrounding her in his embrace. She inhaled his scent and let his warmth engulf her. 

Tears welled in her hues as she put her hands onto his face. "Pinch me please.." she said and laughed a bit. 

Jean chuckled, cupping her cheek. "I don't think you're dreaming," he replied, pulling her closer. 

"This is so cute I feel like a proud mom," Sasha said as she kept recording. 

(Y/N) looked back. "H-How? How did you get him here?" she asked and nodded. 

Connie rubbed the back of his neck. "We actually were both in on it, we paid for his ticket and everything. He's staying at my place actually," he said, smiling at her. 

"Sasha planned the game too," Jean added and looked towards the brunette. 

(Y/N) pulled Sasha into a tight hug. "I literally love you right now," she said as a few tears escaped down her cheeks. 

"Uh (Y/N)! I think you should be the one telling him that," Sasha said, pointing at Jean. 

She came back over to Jean who handed her the flowers. "Someone as beautiful as you are deserves these in person. Happy Valentine's Day beautiful," he said, smiling down at her. 

She laughed as she took the flowers, her heart swelling. "Thank you really.." she replied, pulling him into another hug. 

He put his arms around her, he felt his heart flutter as he felt her touch. "Do you want to..?" 

"Get out of here?" she asked, nodding. 

The two looked back at Sasha and Connie. "Knock yourselves out! Don't have too much fun (Y/N).." Connie said and smirked devilishly.

Heat rushed onto her cheeks. "I'd like to say the same to you both," Jean said, putting his arm around her shoulder. 

Connie and Sasha both turned red. "Okay! Bye Jean and (Y/N)! Have fun!" Sasha said and ran out of the room. 

They both turned to one another, laughs escaping both of their lips. "Let's go," she said, fishing around her pockets for her car keys. 

Jean followed her out of Sasha's apartment building to her car, his hands brushing over her fingers a few times making her cheeks hot. 

Once in the car, she began the drive back to her apartment. She couldn't keep her eyes off Jean, he looked so much better in person. All of his features stood out, his jawline, his hair, and his amazing eyes. 

"You know.. you're 100x more beautiful in person," Jean said, breaking the silence between them. 

She smiled. "Thank you… you're 100x more handsome," she replied and looked over at the passenger side. 

Jean felt his cheeks grow red from her words. "I never thought in a million years I'd meet you this soon," he said and leaned back in his seat. 

She laughed a bit. "I could say the same.. Sasha told me nothing about this," she replied, turning the steering wheel.

A chuckle erupted in his throat. "It was meant to be kept secret. Connie and Sasha both messaged me about it and I was in," he said.

"I thought you were ghosting me at first.. I was so bummed at her house,"

Jean looked over at her. "Oh never.. I'd never ghost you. Connie told me to just put distance so it wouldn't seem weird," he said, brushing his fingers over her arm.

Tingles ran around her body as he touched her. "I should have known something was up," she said and shook her head. "Anyway, we're here." she added, taking off her seatbelt. 

Jean exited the car with her. He followed her up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and removed her shoes, Jean stepped in and eyed the room. She kept it clean and organized. 

"Nice place," Jean said and smiled at her. 

She looked back at him. "Oh thank you.. it means a lot," she replied, placing his gifts on the counter. 

The two stood there for a moment just taking in their appearances. She felt her heart racing as Jean stood there eyeing her. 

"So um.. what do you wanna do?" Jean asked, looking down at her. 

She leaned against the wall. "I dunno.. maybe we can watch a movie in bed?" she asked, nodding.

"Sounds like a plan.. I gotta call Connie. He needs to drop my shit off in the morning if I'm sleeping here," he said and took out his phone. 

(Y/N) rocked on her heels. "Sounds good! Um.. I'll be right back, I'm gonna change." she replied and made her way to her room.

Jean texted Connie and within seconds he responded with an 'ok'. He walked towards the room where (Y/N) was, her room was decorated nicely. She knew how to keep it clean. He noticed the familiar sights he used to see on facetime. 

She came from the bathroom wearing shorts and a t-shirt. "Come sit," she said and hopped on her bed. 

Jean felt stiff, he didn't want to make her uncomfortable or make any moves that were too quick. 

"So uh… what kind of movie do you wanna watch?" he asked, looking at her nervously. 

"Hmm.. horror?" she replied, looking back at him as she turned on the tv. 

He nodded. "Sounds like a plan," he said and leaned back against the pillows on her bed. 

She put on one of the horror movies and lied down next to him, her hands brushed over his arm veins. She traced lines where his muscles were. Goosebumps littered onto his skin feeling her touch. 

"Don't be so stiff.. you aren't going to hurt me," (Y/N) said leaning up a bit. 

He felt his nerves loosen up at her words. "Sorry.. I just don't wanna come off as a creep," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. 

She giggled, moving his arm so it was now around her waist. "You aren't a creep to me at all," she said, laying her head on his chest. 

Jean's grip on her waist tightened as he brought her body closer to his. He imagined nights like these for so long, his arms around her holding her close so she never slips away. 

She felt so warm next to him. 

As the night went on, (Y/N) felt her eyes become droopy. She started to snooze against his chest, Jean smiled hearing her small snores and the way she twitched. He turned off the lamp and pulled the covers over the two of them. 

-

The next morning Jean was awoken by (Y/N) moving out of his embrace. Her eyes trying to get used to the light that shone into her room, she grabbed her phone, the time reading 10:12 A.M. 

She turned over to look at Jean who was awake. A giggle escaped her lips as she cuddled back into him. 

"I didn't mean to fall asleep," she said and traced his muscles with her fingers. 

He squeezed the flesh of her waist. "Don't worry about it," he replied and lied his chin onto her head. "What do you wanna do today, beautiful?" he asked.

She sighed. "Do you wanna just relax and chill? We don't have to go anywhere," she replied, looking up at him. 

"Sounds fine by me," Jean said, staring up at the ceiling. 

The two lied there for a few minutes before deciding to get dressed and ready for the day, Jean noticed his suitcases were at the front door. (Y/N) told him that Sasha had a spare key so she most likely stopped by while they were asleep. It made him laugh but also a little weirded out. 

They both changed and lied around (Y/N)'s place, they took many photos together and goofed off. She never felt happier than she did in those moments, Jean didn't want to stop touching her. He loved feeling her smooth skin against his, he held her hand or brushed against her arm. Not in a creepy way of course. 

It was around 6:30 in the afternoon, Jean and (Y/N) messed around in her apartment for most of the day. Watching movies, ordering food, taking photos, etc. It had been an amazing day. 

"Hey Jean.." (Y/N) said, reaching up to play with the strands of his hair. 

He looked down at her. "What's up?" he asked. 

She smiled. "Do you wanna go to the pier near my house? We can watch the sunset," she asked, nodding her head. 

His face lit up with excitement. "Hell yes! Let's go right now," he replied. 

The two rushed out of the apartment and went to her car, the sun was going to set pretty soon, so they wanted to get to the pier at a decent time to see it all. 

The car ride was fun, the two blasted music and sang along with the words. 

Eventually, the two arrived at the pier. Many people walked along the sidewalks with each other, the summer air felt nice. Jean held her hand as they made their way up to the dock, some people leaned along the sides talking with one another. 

The sun shined onto their faces, Jean's honey eyes looked like pure gold as the sun passed through them. 

The tide from the waves crashed below them the seagulls flew in the sky or onto the ground. 

"It's so pretty.." (Y/N) said, smiling as she leaned against the railing staring at the setting sun.

Jean admired the sky as it was painted with purples and oranges. "Yeah.. but not as pretty as you are," he said and held her hand in his. 

She looked absolutely stunning to him. The way the sun shined over her skin and the way the wind lightly blew along her hair made his heart swell. 

She was truly the most beautiful girl he ever laid his eyes on. 

"I always imagined coming here with you.. it was my dream date," she said and smiled.

Jean took her hand into his. "Can I ask you something?" he asked. 

She looked up at him. "Of course Jean," she replied and brushed a few strands of hair out of his face. 

He let out a shaky breath. "(Y/N)... I never thought I'd ever get to meet you, but now that I have I realized how amazing you are. You're so beautiful.. don't even get me started on your smile either. You've made today so great and I've been meaning to ask you this question for so long. My feelings for you are strong and I can't imagine my life without you by my side," he said. "Will you be my girlfriend?" 

She felt her heart burst at his words, she couldn't deny what she felt for Jean. "Yes! Yes!" she replied, putting her arms around his neck. 

He smiled as he put his arms around her waist. "I love you.." he whispered. 

Her eyes went wide. "I love you too.." she said, leaning into his face and pressing her lips onto his. 

The kiss was passionate, his lips felt smooth and soft. It took her breath away. 

"I promise I'll make you feel like a princess," Jean said and cupped her cheek. "I'll never let you go," he added. 

She felt small tears form into her eyes. "I'll never let you go either," she said and smiled at him.

They stood there for awhile watching as the sun slowly disappeared behind the clouds, the sky painted in bright oranges and dark blues. 

Arriving back home they both rushed up the stairs to her apartment. She unlocked it and pulled him into a heated kiss, the kiss feeling hot.

Jean made his way to the couch, his hands on her hips. "I didn't know you were this good of a kisser.." he whispered, smirking as he kissed her. 

"I guess we're both full of surprises," she replied and put her arms around his neck.

He sat down on the couch, her thighs on either side of his legs. "Wait.." Jean said, breaking the kiss between them. "I need to mention one more thing," he added, looking up at her. 

She nodded. "What's up?" she asked. 

He felt a smile grow onto his lips. "I know I leave in two days but.. I wanted to let you know that I was pricing apartments around here as well as schooling.. and I found out I got accepted," he said. 

Her jaw dropped hearing the news. "What!? No way! You're lying! Does that mean.." she said. 

"I won't be far away anymore my love," he replied, cupping her cheek. "It's gonna take awhile for me to move in, but I should be here by the end of next month." 

She felt excitement coursing through her. "That's great!" she said. 

"I mean it when I say it that I do love you (Y/N).. it's not me saying that to impress you, I truly do." he said, smiling at her. "I can't imagine myself with anyone else. I want a future with you," he added. 

She felt a smile grow onto her cheeks. "I love you too Jean… I want you with me forever," she said, running her fingers along his face. 

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her lips. "Your wish is granted baby," he said and pressed his lips against hers. 

She giggled, leaning down towards him. "What do you say we celebrate?" she asked, smirking. 

He eyed her hungrily. "Oh you wanna be like that huh? Consider it your special Valentine's Day treat," he replied, bringing her body close to his.

[hookingminor]

highly requested part 2 to this angsty blurb, and this marks the end of my 2k blurb weekend! thank you all for joining me and I hope you enjoyed!

-

Matthew wandered back to the hotel well after midnight.

The rehearsal dinner ended around nine in the evening, but after spending an hour on that deck thinking about everything you said, he decided to take a long walk around the neighborhood.

He wandered through the church venue Willow had booked and sat at the pews for a few minutes, taking in all the decorations that were already set up. Then, he made his way back to the barn where the reception would take place, and all of it just felt wrong: the decor, the table settings, the flowers, none of it felt right.

Matthew didn’t put much thought into the wedding, per Willow’s requests, but it only hit him just how little he contributed to all of it as he sat on his hotel bed and thought about what his ideal wedding would look like.

He didn’t even want to get married in Calgary.

It made sense he would since Willow had lived here her whole life, but Matthew always imagined his wedding taking place in St. Louis where his entire family and all his friends could attend. Besides his immediate family and teammates, no one else could make the long trip to Calgary for his wedding.

When Matthew pictured his wedding, he also pictured you standing at the end of the aisle, too. Matthew was sure Willow’s dress would be gorgeous and she would look absolutely beautiful tomorrow, but when he pictured you standing there in her place, he was filled with a fluttering of butterflies in his stomach he couldn’t deny.

Which is what led him to knocking on Willow’s door at one in the morning.

It took a few minutes before she woke, bleary eyed and confused as to why her fiance was seeking her out so late in the night. “Matthew? What is it? You’re not supposed to see me before the wedding.” She pulled her robe tighter around her body, as if trying to shield Matthew’s eyes from her.

That was another superstition Matthew didn’t like. He nearly begged Willow to spend the night with him before the wedding, not buying into the ‘bad luck’ bullshit people always said about sleeping together before the ceremony, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I know, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I think we need to talk,” Matthew said. He was still dressed in his suit from the dinner, though he’d shed his jacket and tie long ago. Willow’s face fell at his words, but she let him inside her room anyway.

Matthew sat on the edge of the bed awkwardly and fiddled with his thumbs as Willow sat next to him. Silence filled the room. Matthew didn’t know how to say it.

“Is this about Y/N?” Willow asked calmly after a few minutes passed. “I saw you two talking outside earlier.”

Matthew looked at his fiance, her eyes sad and face dismal. He nodded.

“I figured,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew said because he didn’t know what else to say.

Then Willow said the most unexpected thing.

“It’s okay.”

Matthew’s confusion was clear on his face, and Willow let out a genuine laugh as she took his hand in hers.

“I thought if you saw her and she moved on, we could’ve made this work, but that wasn’t the case, was it?” She asked, and Matthew nodded again.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” she continued. “I always knew you still loved her.”

“I really did love you,” Matthew said. “I do love you… it’s just…”

“You love her more,” Willow finished for him.

“I am sorry,” Matthew pleaded. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but then I saw her and… I can’t let her go.”

“I know,” Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly, and then let out a deep sigh. “Well, I guess we better tell our folks the wedding’s off, huh?”

-

Matthew showed up to your place a month later.

He stood outside your apartment, nervous and shaking, with a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hands. You hadn’t heard from him since booking the first flight out of Calgary, dodging all his calls and texts that came in over the week after his wedding. You effectively stayed off social media, deleting all the apps you knew you still had Matthew on in fear of seeing wedding pictures.

The surprise on your face was evident when you answered the door to find Matthew on the other side.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on your honeymoon or something?” You asked.

“I didn’t go through with it. I couldn’t after seeing you,” Matthew explained. “Can I come in?”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you let Matthew follow you inside. He’d never seen your apartment before. You’d moved places shortly after your breakup, trying to erase the memories of Matthew that existed on every surface of your old apartment.

He held out the flowers for you, which you took and placed into a vase and filled with water. Matthew’s eyes roamed your new place, taking in all the photos you had on your fridge to the books you kept on your bookshelves.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Matthew?” You asked.

Matthew’s gaze focused back on you. “I always hated it when you called me Matthew.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“What do you want?” You rephrased, ignoring his comment.

“I want to give us another shot,” Matthew answered confidently.

You weren’t quite sure what you were expecting him to say, but it was definitely not that.

“Matthew—”

“And before you tell me how bad of an idea it is, because I know that’s what you’re about to say, just hear me out.”

Your mouth snapped shut and you waited for him to continue.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I have been for years, and I’m never going to not be in love with you,” Matthew said. “After you left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I realized that marrying Willow wasn’t what I wanted. When I picture my future I see you in it. I see you at the end of that aisle on our wedding day. I see you and me in a house with a dog and maybe a few kids. I see you waiting for me at home at the end of the day, and I see you beside me when I wake up in the morning.”

“Matthew, we tried this before,” you sighed. “We tried the long distance, and it didn’t work.”

“And I’m willing to try again,” Matthew replied, crossing the few feet of space between you to cup your face in his hands. “We were young and dumb and immature, and I pressured you to change your life for me when I shouldn’t have. I’m not asking you to pack up your life and move to Calgary right now. Hell, if you don't ever want to move to Canada, you don’t have to. I’ll move to wherever you want to be because wherever you are is where I belong.”

“I’m in this for the long haul,” he added. “There is no one else out there for me, and there never will be.”

Tears welled in your eyes at his profession, and Matthew’s thumb came to swipe at a stray tear that rolled down your cheek.

“What makes you think this time will be different?” You questioned softly.

“Because I’m different. We’re different. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. You’re all I want.”

“You’d really request a trade for me?” Matthew nodded.

“It wasn’t fair to put that all on you then, and I know that. I shouldn’t have asked you to do something I wasn’t willing to do myself, but I’m telling you now that I’d do anything for you,” he answered.

Throwing your arms around Matthew’s neck, you pressed your entire body into his. Arms tightened around your torso, keeping you snug against him, and Matthew tucked your head into his chest.

“So what do you say? Can you give me a second chance?” He mumbled into your hair.

“I think we’re well past second chances,” you chuckled.

“I promise it’ll be the last one you need to give me,” Matthew laughed, grasping the base of your neck.

In an attempt to blink away his own tears, a few streamed down his cheeks. Leaning forward, you kissed away the tears, leaving his cheeks wet, but Matthew had a dopey grin on his face all the same.

“I’m all in,” you replied to his question, and Matthew had to take a second to make sure he heard you correctly.

His grin spread wider, and he crashed his lips to yours, both of your smiles getting in the way but neither of you cared. Matthew peppered your face in kisses: your brow, your cheeks, your nose, your chin. There was not one inch of skin he left untouched.

You giggled in his arms, twisting your face to the side to avoid the tickling of his scruff against your cheeks, but he kept you close to his body.

“I love you,” he said finally, “and I’m sorry it took me so long to get my shit together.”

You caught his lips in a deep kiss. “All that matters is you’re here now.”

“Oh, I forgot something,” Matthew said, pulling back just enough to reach his hand into his pocket. 

A small box rested in the palm of his hand, and he opened it to show you the necklace he gifted to you nearly three years ago. When everything ended, you’d given it back to him, and he’d kept it tucked away in his bedside drawer since then.

The dainty ‘19’ hung from the chain, and Matthew undid the hook and looked at you with hopeful eyes. Your stomach did a flip as you turned around, and Matthew draped the jewelry around your neck, connecting it in the back and placing a soft kiss on the skin right above it.

“Now everything’s right where it belongs.”

[fortruthseekers]

REFRESHER ON MY INSIDER SOURCES: BTW, this is Purv aka @p-redux. This is my original Tumblr blog I’ve revived to archive past source info.

In 2014, I first posted my insider source info. I didn’t have a Tumblr blog, so I posted everything on my old Twitter account, all the details the sources gave me then. The fandom, especially shippers, went into an uproar because my source info sunk the ship. The SamCait ship had barely started sailing and I sunk it before it had made it out into open sea. Shippers have never forgiven me for that. Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa. 

Throughout the years, I’ve reiterated my source info, but summarized it because most people had already heard it, and I didn’t see a need to keep rehashing it. The more time past, the more it became clear Sam and Cait weren’t a couple, and that the info I had shared with the fandom AHEAD of time was true. Cait was seen with Tony a lot. And Sam was seen with different girlfriends or dates. But since I’m turning this account @fortruthseekers into an archive account, I’m going to post the original source DETAILS again, for newbies. This post is going to be LONG, very long, because I go into detail. Read it if you need a refresher on what I said previously about sources, or if you’ve never read the source details before. Click on Keep Reading to find the rest.

Okay, so about sources. REAL sources. I live in Los Angeles and used to be in the industry many years ago. As a result, I still know people in the industry. And just by living in L.A., you meet people who know celebs. In 2014, I got who I call “my original industry source” through a friend who knew I was watching Outlander. And she thought it would be cool for me to talk to this industry person who had Outlander connections. My friend put me in touch with her so we could talk about our common interest. Initially, me talking to the source was just to schmooze about insider info, I wasn’t planning to make it public or create a celebrity insider info account. But I was surprised about how much she knew. At the time many people, including myself, thought Sam and Cait were most likely a couple, when the source told me she knew for sure they weren’t, I was floored. Then after she told me all the details of her interactions with Sam, Cait, and some of the Outlander cast, and the fact that she was friends with one of Cait’s besties, I knew I’d hit a huge source of info. 

At first, the source didn’t want me to make the info public, she didn’t want to get in trouble, but she thought it was important that people knew the truth about whether or not Sam and Cait were a couple. She figured if they knew, then people wouldn’t get their hopes up and be disappointed when Sam and Cait became more famous, and would inevitably be seen with other people. As I said, that original industry source is good friends with one of Cait’s female best friends. And because she’s in the industry, she also had a connection to Sam through his talent agency. So, she had insider info on BOTH Cait and Sam. Jackpot.

Because I knew her full identity and knew I was talking to the real person on her real and blue check verified Twitter account, and my friend had introduced me to her, I could trust that her info was legit. She is also Instagram blue check verified and has made a name for herself in the industry. People would be shocked if they knew who she was. SHE is the one who told me 100% Sam and Cait were not dating and that 100% Sam is not gay.  At first, she didn’t want me to post things publicly, but I begged and she finally relented, as long I would swear I would keep her identity private and would leave out some identifying details. 

So, in 2014, I went public with all the details she told me. And through the years, EVERYTHING she told me turned out to be true. I didn’t have a Tumblr blog at the time, so all my source info was posted on my old Twitter account. I posted every detail of what she told me and I also posted some of her DMs with permission, and name blacked out. Unfortunately, all that is gone because I deleted my old Twitter account a long time ago. 

The main points were: Sam and Cait weren’t a couple and never have been. When I said to her that I knew actors were different than regular people, but that when I saw Sam and Cait talking about watching the wedding scene together, while drinking a bottle of wine, that there was no way they didn’t hook up at some point. She said she’s been around a lot of actors and said Sam and Cait are both natural flirts and very touchy-feely people, and she didn’t see anything out of of the ordinary in their interactions–she reminded me their behavior is the norm when promoting a show. 

She also said Sam isn’t gay per people she’s talked to who know him. She knew the director of Batman Live, the live show Sam starred in years ago. The director was a gay man, and when she asked him if Sam was gay, since he seemed too good to be true and was so good-looking, he said no. And he said he and other crew who were hoping Sam was gay were disappointed that he was straight. The director told her that the reason Sam didn’t seem to have much of a dating history, was because he had always been focused on his career and on working out. And that because he was traveling with the show, there wasn’t time for a committed relationship. Later, we found out that Sam had indeed been dating a woman named Katie Rebekah, but they broke up because she moved from London to Australia, and Sam started to tour with Batman Live. That’s the info I got in 2014. If Sam was gay, the gay director would have told my source and squeed about it.

This source used to work between New York and Los Angeles. She was in New York for one of her TV shows during the July 2014 premiere of Outlander and hung out with Cait and Cait’s bestie, as well as some of the other OL cast and crew. She also had some business meetings with Sam in NY. She confirmed Sam brought Amy Shiels as his “plus one” to the premiere and even skipped out on an unplanned event the cast was invited to because he “had a date.” When they saw him the next day and asked him how his date went, source said Sam replied “It was great!” Even though this source got info from Cait’s bestie…the bestie kept quiet about Cait and Tony, and simply said that Cait and Sam weren’t a couple….I found out about Tony from someone else...more on that later. 

This source did share some info about what Cait thought about Sam. She said that Cait cared about Sam as a costar and friend, and they got along very well.  But Cait said Sam was not her type, that Cait didn’t date actors, and that Cait referred to Sam as “a bro,” and that Cait was not into guys who spent so much time in the gym. She said Cait genuinely liked Sam as a person, but there was not more to it. And that Sam was just a big flirt, and that they were both trying to promote Outlander as much as possible because they knew it was their big break. 

This is also the source who told me that Cait’s friend, the one the source is friends with, didn’t particularly care for Sam. To be very clear: I don’t feel this way about Sam, Cait doesn’t feel this way about Sam, and my source doesn’t feel this way about Sam. In fact, my source said Sam “was lovely” to her and “a sweetheart.” But one of Cait’s besties, just ONE FRIEND–not plural, the friend said that she thought Sam “could be self-absorbed,” and “douchy.” ONE of Cait’s friends said this. No one else said this. And that was way back in 2014. I’m sure Sam has matured since then, as people tend to do as they get older. BTW Cait has a lot of close friends, some of which aren’t well known to fans. Reiterating: Cait doesn’t feel that way about Sam, the source didn’t feel this way about Sam, and I, Purv, don’t feel this way about Sam, nor have I said anything like that about Sam. 

Back to Sam being a natural flirt, remember, even Cait said “he could flirt with a lamppost.” Well, my source said that the times she saw Sam at business meetings, he was always very nice to her and would greet her with a big bear hug, tight enough that she could feel how hard his chest was. He would look down at her, right into her yes, hold her gaze, and smile big at her. And this was a woman he was not interested in romantically. He was just being friendly and sweet. Imagine how high the charm wattage is turned up for a woman he IS interested in. No wonder that Samshine has been hard to resist. This is also the source who said that Sam would always say goodbye to her by saying his now ubiquitous “Let’s get together for a wee dram when you’re in Scotland.” Of course, that “wee dram” never happened. I think that’s just Sam’s people pleasing qualities coming out, never wants to disappoint anyone. The source also said whenever he would text or e-mail her for business related stuff, he was always super enthusiastic and used a lot of exclamation points !!!!!!

Anyway, my original industry source “broke up” with me years ago because she didn’t want to chance anyone finding out who she was, as Outlander got bigger, and as she got bigger in the industry. I still sometimes look at her Twitter and IG all nostalgic, remembering when it all started...ah, memories...

My second major source was my Tony family source. My Tony source is someone from Glasgow who was friends with someone I’d known for awhile. My friend put me in contact with her. The Tony source approached me to tell me that she was shocked to find out a relative of hers (later found out it was her brother) had revealed “the lead actress from that new show Outlander is dating Tony McGill.” She was shocked because she and her family have known Tony and his family for years, all of them growing up in and around Glasgow. Her brother went to school with Tony and his brother, Joe. She then told me the whole backstory of Cait and Tony. She wanted me to keep the info to myself and she had no motivation or intention of making it public. But she finally agreed, after I gave my word that I would protect her identity and I have. 

What she shared with me in late 2014 is that her brother found out their friend, Tony was dating Caitriona Balfe. At the time she said they’d been dating for about 9-10 months, that’s why I always put the start of their relationship around March 2014. She was told that by December 2014, the relationship was “dead serious” between them and that Cait had spent Christmas 2014 in London with Tony and his dad. And then Tony had flown to Ireland with Cait to spend New Year’s Eve and New Year’s with her family and friends (we’ve all seen the pic and video on Donal Brophy’s IG). My source said that Cait and Tony had been friends for 9 years or so at the time (again, this was told to me in 2014) and had met years ago when Tony rented out a room to one of Cait’s friends. They hooked up briefly back then and then remained friends, until it turned romantic again around March 2014. The source said that she and her family knew Tony and his family from back in the day, and she told me what school Tony went to in Glasgow (something I haven’t and won’t make public). She said that Tony had moved from Glasgow years ago and had been living in London for awhile (again, this was told to me in 2014). Also, that he and his brother owned a bar/live music place in London, The Library in Islington (they later opened a second one, The Reading Room, which Cait posted from on IG) and a music production company. And that prior to that, Tony was the band manager for some Scottish bands, most notable, The Fratellis. She described Tony as “fun, clever and hysterically funny.” 

The Tony source came into the picture after I had my Twitter account up, where I was posting insider info given by my first source. I had already posted that Sam and Cait weren’t dating. This second source is the one that filled in the missing puzzle piece I didn’t know was missing and told me she knew WHO Cait was dating. I would have NEVER known the name Tony McGill associated with Cait if not for this source. He was on no one’s radar. And he wasn’t on social media. This source told me details only an insider would know. And I also had her full identity, so I knew she was legit as well. Then ‘lo and behold Tony started showing up places with Cait. There is NO way I would have known about Tony without this inside family source. No way. Of course after my source told me about him, I did look him up online and there was hardly any information about him. Never in a million years would I have linked Tony McGill with Cait on my own. And I mentioned Tony McGill way before he started showing up places with Cait. How could it be that I said sources told me Tony McGill is dating Cait, and then a man identified as Tony McGill is seen out and about with Cait? The only way I knew about Tony is because the source told me. 

Back in the day, when Cait and Tony weren’t yet living together yet, people wondered how they made their relationship work given the sometimes long distances? Well, when they first started dating around March 2014, Cait was filming Outlander Season 1, so Tony would go to Glasgow or Cait would go to London on weekends. Then when Season 1 wrapped and Cait went back to L.A. (where she had been living) in late Sept. 2014, Tony went to L.A. to visit her in October 2014 (both their birthdays are in October, Cait Oct. 4 and Tony Oct. 12, not Oct. 14 like some have said. Libra/Libra bond!). The Fratellis were also in L.A. Oct. 2014 and Tony helped them out with some business stuff, even though he was no longer managing them then. Then, as I’ve already stated, Cait and Tony spent time together Dec. 2014 and January 2015 for the holidays. Then Valentine’s Feb. 2015, Cait flew to London for the opening of Tony’s 2nd bar, The Reading Room. She posted a pic on IG. Then in April 2015, Tony flew to NY to join Cait for the premiere of the second half of Season 1. Eyewitness sources saw him sitting with Cait’s friends at the screening and then with Cait and her friends inside the after party. There was one PUBLIC pic on Twitter of Cait, Tony and Sam. And I and others have been shown private pics of Tony there. Many of us have seen them but we couldn’t make them public because they show the location where they were taken, thus identifying the source who took them, and she would get in trouble with her boss. After that, in May 2015, Cait went back to Glasgow to begin shooting OL Season 2, and this time, she brought her cat, Eddie with her. Per more than one source, Tony pretty much lived in Glasgow after that with Cait. One person who went to Tony’s bars in Glasgow and then reached out to me, said that she had asked about Tony and was told “he doesn’t come around much anymore because he moved back to Scotland.” They then moved into their new place in Glasgow, move out of that one and into a new one in Glasgow, and also have a place in London, and are now married and had their first son. THAT’s how Tony and Cait made it work.

My Tony source also parted ways with me, also due to fear of being found out. She didn’t formally break up with me, the way the original industry source did, she simply ghosted me. But I also see her pop up on Twitter or IG sometimes and get all wistful. Oh well...

After I posted the insider info from BOTH these sources, then people started to contact me with source info. They knew I was Anon and would keep them Anon--win/win. People who went to Hollywood parties, or premieres, or meet and greets, people who saw celebs at the market, or baseball games, or the beach, or at the gym, or walking down the street, or just happened to be at the right place at the right time, started sending me info. From all over the world, wherever Sam and Cait were. And if I could confirm it to be true, I would post it. If I couldn’t completely guarantee it, then I’d say it was speculation. And that’s what I still do. Granted, back in the day, I was somewhat naive, and did get burned and betrayed a few times. I admitted when that happened. I’m much more careful now. But for the most part, the MAJORITY of the info I’ve posted has been ACCURATE. People who have been here for years can corroborate that. I don’t post everything that is shared with me though. And because my sources are actual real humans, they can’t know everything or be everywhere…I don’t always get minute by minute info, that doesn’t mean I don’t have real sources.

As for me also being the first to let the fandom know that Sam was dating Abbie Salt in 2015...I had a couple of Abbie sources. One of them turned out to be super sketchy and once I figured that out, we parted ways. My Abbie sources approached me after I had already established my account as an insider info sharing account. The motivation was to debunk that Cody and Sam were still seeing each other since they no longer were, and Abbie had started seeing Sam. 

BTW: as an aside...I was also the one that, through an eyewitness source, told the fandom that Sam and Cody Kennedy had gone to the Matthew Morrison Halloween party in October 2014, and the source had seen them kissing while waiting for the valet to bring their car around. You don’t know the LENGTHS that Extreme Shippers went to to disprove my source. They even Google Earthed the driveway from the street to the valet and measured it trying to prove that my source could not have seen where Sam and Cody were waiting for their car. Hahahah omg. Except, my source wasn’t on the street, she was right next to them. After all the bullshit from ES, it’s a wonder I’m still here, but here I am...the strongest bitch you’ll ever meet. But I digress...

Anyhoo, back to Sam and Abbie. I had no idea Abbie Salt existed or that she had dated Sam before and was friends with him…until my Abbie source contacted me to tell me that Sam was no longer dating Cody Kennedy and had resumed dating Abbie Salt. Abbie met Sam years ago when her sister, actress, Charlotte Salt starred with Sam in “A Princess For Christmas,” they dated briefly then, and then rekindled their romance in early 2015. Cody Kennedy’s mom later confirmed this by posting publicly in response to a fan Sam and Cody had broken up because “Sam went back to his old girlfriend in London.” Abbie lives in London. Again…I was surprised because I had no idea…but all the info checked out and then whadda you know, Abbie started showing up in Glasgow…in Sam’s flat (IG pics since deleted)…in L.A. in February 2015 at the London hotel, West Hollywood seen and photographed by an eyewitness for Oscars Week parties (the pic is of Sam and the fan, taken by Abbie, fan said Abbie was super sweet)... n NY when he was there for the OL premiere April 2015 (she posted on her IG, since deleted the pics), in Miami when he was there (eyewitness and Miami source proof that they were in Miami together, and NO that was not me, it was a source) and in Barbados together (Barbados source confirmation, and NO that was not me, it was a source, and pics from Abbie and Sam Tweeted he had been in Barbados). After that, Abbie was in Glasgow and Sam in London, where Abbie lives, on several occasions…not to mention she was photographed as his date in Monte Carlo for the TV Film Festival. It couldn’t be a coincidence that the Abbie Salt sources told me about AHEAD of time, then started to spend all that time with Sam. I didn’t even know Abbie existed, how would I have ever known anything about her without sources?

I also told the fandom about Mackenzie Mauzy and Sam dating via a source who saw them in person, holding hands and leaving together at a Guns N Roses concert in Los Angeles April 1, 2016. A friend of someone I know in L.A. was there and recognized Sam. He told my friend that he’d seen “that Outlander dude, Sam Heughan holding hands with a blonde, leaving the Guns N Roses concert.” At first, I thought it may have been Cody Kennedy, but afterwards, sources came forth to confirm it was Mackenzie Mauzy. Later on, I was contacted by a different Mackenzie source and given more info, which I posted. That Mackenzie source ghosted me too because Mackenzie was probably asking questions as to who was doling out info.  Also, by sheer providence, a fan was in the stands at the Dodgers baseball game in June 2016 and sent me a video of Sam and Mackenzie at the game together. Another source sent me the video of Sam and Mackenzie leaving their hotel together at San Diego Comic Con. I’ll repost all that in the archives. And someone I’ve known for years on Tumblr and trust completely came forward to share that she found out Sam and Mackenzie had broken up from one of Mackenzie’s relatives who live near her. Again, that was also by chance. Life can indeed be stranger than fiction. The relative told her Mackenzie wanted to get married and have kids and Sam wasn’t ready for that yet, so they broke up. That source came forth and identified herself on Tumblr, so that also proves my source info was legit. 

In summary: I was the FIRST to let the fandom know Cait and Sam weren’t dating, Cait was dating Tony, and Sam was dating Abbie, and Sam was dating Mackenzie BEFORE anyone else knew. You can’t do ALL of that simply by scouring social media posts as haters would have you think. It’s just not possible. And reasonable people understand that.

Before Covid-19 hit, people who were attending industry events would contact me and say “Hey Purv, I’m going to the PCA, or the TCA, or the GoldenGlobes, or the Outlander Season premiere and after party, I’ll give you the scoop!” I’d say “Cool, thanks! Send pics or video and let me know what and who you see.” That’s it. No social media searches or data mining needed. There is no conspiracy involved. No one is “feeding” me info from Sam or Cait’s camps or non-shipper or shipper sides to propagate a certain “narrative.” It’s just different people, who are at the right place at the right time, or are privy to certain insider info, sharing it with me because they know I post info for fans who are into that. As I’ve said ad infinitum, I am quite simply THE MESSENGER.

Any questions, send me an Ask or a Direct Message on my MAIN account @p-redux  Thanks!

[jungwonenthusiast]

Field Trip

A/N: I’ve been working on this pic for a while, I hope you guys like it :)

Pairing: Jake Sim x fem! reader

Word count: 5.2k

Genre: fluff, high school au

Warning: mentions of virginity loss and porn, occasional swearing, nothing else I think

“How many shirts should I take?” Jake asks you through your phone. 

“Uhm, we’re there for three days so take four just incase.” you reply and you pack your suitcase as well. 

You two were preparing for your five day field trip to New York which was happening tomorrow. 

You packed your favorite jeans and hoodies and even a dress just in case. You can't help but romanticize the hell out of New York after being stuck in this small town all your life. 

“How many pairs of underwear should I take?” he asks again and you giggle. He’s like a kid sometimes.  “How many times do you think you’ll change your underwear?” you say while sitting on your suitcase to get it to zip closed.

“Probably three but I’ll take four just in case.”

“What a quick learner.” you say and you hear him scoff. 

Jake has been your best friend since elementary school when you scraped your knee during tag and he took you to the nurse’s office. He’s been a sweetie since day one. 

“I doubt I’m gonna get any sleep tonight,” you sigh. “I’m too riled up.”

“Same,” he sighs. “I wonder how many flashers we’ll run into.”

You laugh. “Why is that the first thing you think of you creep.”

“Hey now,’ he chuckles. “I thought that was the stereotype.”

You hop onto your bed and pick your phone up, it looks like Jake’s doing the same. All you can see are his eyes and a bit of his nose bridge. His dark hair has started to grow out and it was poking at his eyelids. 

Your phone pings with a text from Jake. It’s a horrendous screenshot of you climbing over your phone to get into bed. You gasp.

“I’ll kill you.” you tell him as he’s holding in his laugh. “I will do it.”

His laugh bursts out of his throat, jolly and warm. “Why I love it.”

“I hate you so much. Delete it.”

“No way,” he bunches his brows. “You have an entire photo album dedicated to bad pictures of me.”

“And I also have an entire album dedicated to good pictures of you.” you roll your eyes.

“You do?” he asks. “That’s a bit fangirly of you.”

“Me? A fangirl? Maybe Madeline but not me.” you scoff.

���Madeline?” his voice perks up. “She likes me?”

“Yeah, I thought you knew this.” you swear that you’ve brought this up before. Maybe he just forgot. 

“Nuh-uh.” he says.

“Well...” you say. “do you like her back.”

“I mean she’s nice but,” he hesitates. “not really.”

“Why not? She’s smart and super pretty. I'm so jealous of her hair.” you say. Madeline was a tan ginger girl with curly fiery hair down to the small of her back. 

“You have nice hair.” he says nonchalantly. 

You touch it and rub it between your fingers. “It’s whatever.”

He scoffs. “You’re too hard on yourself all the time.”

“I’m a teenage girl, I can’t help it.” You defend yourself, but he isn’t lying. 

“I’m bored, can I come over?” he says suddenly. 

“Tonight? We have school tomorrow.” you reply. 

“Maybe I’ll just sleep over.” he says while turning over in his bed. “I don’t think our parents would care.”

Sleepover? You two hadn’t done that since you turned eleven. 

“Where would you sleep?” you ask him, already imagining how this would go.

“I don’t know on the floor.” he shrugs.

“I’m not letting you sleep on the floor I’ll feel bad.” you argue.

“I don’t care, I’m the one who suggested it, plus I miss you dude, I wanna hang out.” he says and you smile.

“I saw you on Friday.”

“Yeah, a whole two days ago.” he gets up off his bed. “Okay I’ll be there in ten.”

“What-” you start but he cuts you off.

He brings the camera up close to his face and he flashes you a smile. “Bye!” he hangs up. 

Your palms feel a bit sweaty and you brush them off on your pants. Why am I nervous? You guys have had plenty of sleepovers before but the rest of the boys were always there, probably passed out from beer or a sugar crash. 

You tidy your room up a bit and prepare a little blanket bed on the floor right next to your actual bed. 

You hear knocking at the door right when you expected, Jake was hardly ever late. 

“Hola~” he says as he walks in with his backpack on. He takes his shoes off before skipping over to your room. You giggle to yourself. 

He falls back onto your bed with a big sigh. “I missed being here.” 

“Why? There’s nothing cool here. Your house is way cooler.” you say and he smiles.

“Well I can’t deny that,” he shrugs and you punch him in the arm. “you’re the one who said it.”

“We get it rich boy.” you roll your eyes and sit down next to him.

“I’m just playing,” he sits up. “you know that.”

“I hope you showered after practice,” you say. “I don’t want you stinking up my bed.”

He whips his head to you, looking a little bit offended. “I am very clean alright? Here smell my hair.” he shoves his head into your face. 

You let out a strangled noise and try to push him away. “Okay, okay!”

“No smell it,” he keeps his hair up in your face, it’s tickling your nose. “smells like mangos right.”

Admitedly, he's right. It smells like mangos.

“Yes it does,” you squeak out. “now please respect my personal bubble.” you spread your arms out and create an imaginary bubble between you two. He tries to tug at your arm but you bellow in a robot voice. “PERSONAL BUBBLE PERSONAL BUBBLE.”

“Fine, fine.” he falls back onto your bed again, laughing. “Lets watch something.”

You follow suit and tug your laptop into your lap. 

“Hold on,” you get up and close your window, it was starting to get too cold.

You shimmy under your covers and pull up Netflix.

“Scary movie?” you click on the horror section.

“Sure but you probably won’t be able to sleep.” he teases and you roll your eyes. 

“That was years ago.” you start to scroll through the movies. 

“Mhm, and I’m never letting you live it down.” he says with pride. 

During freshman year the gang decided to go to Jay’s house to watch It together and it freaked you out so much that you went to sleep in the boys room rather than the guest room. 

You click on Hush, a movie you’ve been avoiding because it’s about one of your biggest fears, a home invasion. 

“I thought you hated this movie.” Jake says, crossing his arms.  “I do, but I need to face my fears eventually right?” you click on it and get up to turn the lights off. 

Jake soon gets under the covers as well. You both cringe and slap each other every time your feet touch. 

“Yo yo yo yo watch out!” Jake whispers and pulls his hood over his head, something you both do when you’re nervous. You weren’t wearing a hoodie so you settled with a spare blanket and draped it over yourself like a cloak. 

“Oh shit,” you whisper. “look behind you!” you yell at the main character. 

By the end of the movie both of your bodies are stiff and sore from being so tense for two hours straight. 

“I thought she was gonna die.” you sigh and you shut your laptop. 

“Nah, they couldn’t kill the main girl.” Jake says, comfy and cuddled up in your duvet. “She was so smart.”

“Yeah she was.” you yawn and then kick Jake in the side. “Go to your bed.”

He groans. “It’s warm here though.”

“Go and I’ll make pancakes tomorrow.” you say.

He perks up and follows your orders. 

You relax into your mattress, but you miss his warmth next to you. You ignore that. 

Your alarm goes off at 6:30 and Jake sleeps right through it. 

“How the hell does he get up in the morning?” you whisper. “Probably Leila.”

He’s sleeping on his side, cuddling a stuffed animal he must’ve stolen from your bed while you were asleep.

You stretch your back before washing up. 

Jake’s POV

My serene sleep is interrupted by pokes at my shoulder. 

“Get up poop.” she says. I almost forgot that I was at her house. I crack my eyes open to find her crouching next to me. 

“Good morning.” I croak out.

“You stole ginger.” she points at the stuffed bunny in my arms. 

“I was lonely.” I say before sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”

“7:30,” she says holding in a giggle. “go wash up so we can eat.”

“What’s so funny?” I ask her as she walks away. “You’ll see when you look in the mirror.” she says.

My eyes widen. Did she draw a dick on my forehead or something? I thought we swore to never do that.

I scramble to her bathroom to meet some gnarly bedhead. I have no clue how guys have good messy hair, my hair is either boring and flat or just messy. 

“Jesus.” I say to myself and try to run my head under the sink. 

I brush my teeth and secretly use her facial cleanser. 

“So fancy.” I whisper while lathering it up on my face. 

I can already hear her voice in my head when I’m drying off saying “don't forget to put lotion on, and face lotion, not body.”

A stack of pancakes is waiting for me in the kitchen, just as she promised. 

“Thank you mom.” I say to her before digging in.

She sits across from me with her own plate of flap jacks. She looks so pretty this early in the morning. Her face is fresh and sparkly and her eye bags somehow just make her prettier. It’s cloudy out and I can tell she’s cold she way her body is bundled up in her chair. 

I still remember the moment I realized that I liked her. It was seventh grade and we were at our town’s annual fair. She got a bit sick after a ride with a lot of loopdey loops so I stayed behind with her while the rest of the boys continued to go on every ride they pleased. She told me to go with them and that she didn’t want me to miss out but I said that it was fine and that I liked hanging out with her anyway. She smiled her bright smile at me and rested her head on my shoulder for a moment. Then she threw up on my shoes. Like projectile cotton candy, funnel cake, and other miscellaneous fair food vomit. And I didn’t even get that mad, I was more concerned for her. After that I figured I liked her, because if it were Jay I would’ve beat him up. 

“Did you have any nightmares?” I ask her and she shakes her head.

“Nah, I dreamt that Sunghoon married a dolphin. It was weird.” she sighs.

I choke on my pancakes. “A dolphin?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “his name was Jerry.”

“And it was a guy too?” I hold my chest, trying not to choke.

“Don’t judge their interspecies homosexual marriage. It was beautiful.” she laughs and takes a big gulp of water.

I’m almost crying at this point. “Best dream ever. I can’t wait to tell Sunghoon this.”

“No!” her eyes widen. “He’s gonna think I fantasized about it or something.”

“What?” I cock an eyebrow. “Everyone knows that dreams are uncontrollable sometimes.” “Still it’s weird. Imagine if someone told you that I dreamt of you marrying a dolphin. It’s be weird.” she says through a mouth of pancake. 

“Did they have kids?” I cackle,

“I don’t know. How would that even work?” 

“Maybe they had a surrogate or something.” I suggest.

“Oh god,” she shakes her head, smiling. “we need to stop. I feel like I'm violating him.”

“Alright, alright.”

“Should I wear this shirt or this sweater.” she asks me as we’re getting ready in her room. 

“Sweater. It’s probably gonna be cold.” I say while tugging socks on. 

“Shit you’re right. Then I won’t be able to wear this dress.” she holds up a little dress that flows out a bit from the waist. 

“Bring it anyway and maybe you can wear it for a second so I can take pictures for you.” I suggest and she smiles. 

“Good idea.” 

We both settle of hoodies and jeans and say goodbye to her parents before hopping in my car. 

We get to school right when people start getting on the bus to the airport. We throw our luggage into the bottom carrier and get in line. 

“Yo!” I hear a familiar voice call as we get on. “We saved seats for you guys.”

Jay, Sunghoon, Heeseung, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Niki have already gotten comfortable in the back of the bus. Niki was already asleep. Y/N couldn’t help but pat his head before settling down next to Jungwon. The bus wasn’t a school one but one of those fancy ones they bring out once a year. 

I sit down next to Sunghoon and dap him up. 

“What’s up.” I say while putting my backpack down by my feet. 

“Tired.” he says. “Valentina kept me up all night.”

I raise an eyebrow and he smirks. 

“For real?” I ask and he nods. “No way.”

“Yeah way.” he says and holds up a fist.

I fist bump him and pat him hard on the shoulder. 

“You’re a man now Sunghoon.” I congratulate him and he snickers. 

“What does that make you then?” 

“I’m taking my time alright? I’ll get there eventually.” I say, a little embarrassed. 

I look back to check out what she’s doing when we start to drive off. She’s fast asleep with her cheek pressed against Jungwon’s shoulder. He looks like he’s about to dose off too. Cute. 

Sunghoon and I watch a couple episodes of Death Note before we arrive at the airport. Sunoo shakes Y/N and Jungwon up. 

She’s still groggy as we walk into the airport and grabs onto my arm for leverage. My heart jumps a little. It’s not often that we touch despite how much I think about touching her. I could stare at her back all day. She could ignore me for the rest of my life and I’d still be happy to be in her presence. Mental note to all of you: do NOT let your feelings get to this point.

Soon we’re on the plane and she chooses to sit next me. I silently celebrate. Sunoo and Sungoon behind us, Heeseung and Niki next to us, and Jay and Jungwon in front of us. Sunoo pokes his head over her seat.

“Do you have chapstick I can borrow.” he asks with his blonde hair flopping over his forehead. 

She digs into her bag and hands him a small tin of lip balm.

“Thank you!” he says and she nods. 

“Are you that tired?” I ask her.

“Mhm,” she sighs and shuts her eyes. “I forgot to drink coffee this morning.”

I put in my AirPods and start to watch Lady Bird. She looks over and takes an AirPods out of my ear. 

“I wanna watch too.” she say and puts it in her own. 

We take off for the six hour trip and soon Y/N is sound asleep. Her head kept dropping forward so I pushed it up and pulled it to rest on my shoulder. This was not on purpose. I can’t help but snap a picture of her and add it to the good pictures of her album. She looks so peaceful and comfortable and gorgeous. I lay my head on hers for a moment before continuing the movie. 

Y/N’s POV

After two hours of unsatisfying sleep, and hour of gossip with Sunoo, and three hours of chit chat with Jake you finally arrive. You sit up and stretch as best as you can in the plane. You pull you backpack onto my back and get you luggage down from the overhead bin. It’s already five p.m. when we get off and your stomach is growling. 

We take another bus to the hotel and you can’t help but admire the city life as we drive there. 

You’re roomed with two other girls at the hotel but you don’t even bother unpacking. You know you’re gonna be in the boys’ room anyway.

Mrs. Gilroy gave us tonight to do whatever we wanted as long as we were back at the hotel by ten p.m. 

You sneak into Jake, Jay, and Sunghoon’s room as soon as you can. And when you get there, it’s already a mess.

“Good lord.” you say as you’re met with clothes all over the floor and mini bottles of liquor on the beds.

“You guys are drunk already?” you scrunch your nose and drop your stuff in a corner of the room.

“No.” Sunghoon says to you lazily with a little smirk on his face. You can’t help but giggle. Sunghoon is pretty adorable when he’s drunk. 

“Are you drunk too?” you turn to Jake and he shakes his head. His pink cheeks give him away though. “You’re all bad liars.”

“Lets go swim.” he says excitedly. 

“There’s a pool? I didn’t bring a swim suit.” you say, bummed.

“Can we go later, I’m hungry.” Jay says and you agree.

“Me too.” 

Jake tugs at your arm. “Come on~ we can order room service or ask Jay to get us something.”

“We can get you guys something.” Sunghoon says, pulling a hoodie over his head. 

“Please?” Jake looks at you with shiny eyes. He’s and adorable drunk too.

You purse your lips and sigh. “Fine. But I don’t have anything to wear.”

“Just wear shorts and a shirt.” Jake says as he tugs his swim trunks out of his suit case.

“I didn’t bring shorts because you said it was gonna be cold.” you complain, crossing your arms. 

“Uhm,” he stops for a moment. “you can wear my boxers then.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Huh?”

“What?” he looks at you. “They’re basically shorts. And they’re clean.”

You hesitate but then comply as always. He tosses you a pair of black Calvins.

You steal one of Jay’s shirts and make your way into the bathroom to change. You’re wearing a simple cotton bralette which should be fine for the pool. You bundle up the rest of your old clothes and stick them behind your backpack before heading out with Jake. 

The pool is empty and huge and is only light by the lights inside. 

“It’s so cold.” you rub at your arms as Jake sets your towels down at a seat.

“I’m sure the pool is heated.” he says and dips a toe in. “Yeah, it’s warm.” Before you can even reply, he tugs his shirt off and canon balls in. You turn your face to avoid getting splashed.

“How is it?” you call out as he emerges from the water. He shakes his hair around like a dog. 

“It’s warm so come in, you look funny standing there.” he teases and you roll your eyes. You kick your sneakers off and try to make a peaceful jump in but you didn’t realize you were in the deep end. It takes you a moment to get your senses together and swim to the surface.

“Why is it deep?” you say, a bit out of breath. 

Jake giggles at you. “Remember when we used to play and you were the mermaid and I was the-”

“Turtle companion.” you finish his sentence. “Yes, as clear as day.”

“Why couldn't I be a mermaid too? Why was a I a lame turtle.” he fusses.

“I’m sorry okay?” you laugh. “I was a mean child.”

“Yeah you were. I’ll never forgive you for shoving that clump of dirt in my mouth.” 

You burst out laughing, flailing your arms in the water to try to stay afloat. “You deserved it!”

“I did not!” he protests. 

“You cheated in handball! It was one hundred percent deserved.” you say, swimming over to him.

“I barely cheated!” he calls out, starting to swim away from you.

“Barely? I would’ve won and been champion of our grade if you hand’t pulled that shit!” you say, still laughing and swimming after him.

“Why are you chasing me?” he says while hopping around the pool where he can touch the ground.

“So I can shove another clump of dirt in your mouth.” you try your best to get him but your heavy cotton shirt is holding you back. You don’t let it stop you though. 

You finally get to him and tug his arm. He yells as you push him underwater. He finds the ground though, and shoots up soon after. 

“Are you trying to drown me?” he looks at you, astonished but giggly. 

“Maybe.” you shrug before tackling him again. It had been a while since you two wrestled like this. 

You’ve got him under water for a bit until he finds your rib cage and plunges you in. It’s hard to hold your breath while you’re laughing. You feel around for him and pinch his thigh only semi hard. He lets you go after that. 

“I won!” you celebrate with your fists in the air.

“You used pain, that isn't fair.” he rubs at the area that you pinched. 

“Don’t be a sore loser. I won fair and square.” you cross your arms.  “Fine.” he admits his defeat. “that pinch hurt though, come kiss it better.”

Your face twists. “Nuh uh.” you say plainly. 

“Please?” he asks. “I will drown myself right now.” You laugh at him. 

“I will do it!” he insists.

“Okay, okay! I’m not to going to kiss your leg you weirdo but I’ll give you a hug.” you float over to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders. “I even pinched you lighter than I normally would.”

“I’m sensitive.” he says into your neck and you giggle. 

His arms feel so right around your waist and you struggle to decide when to let go, so you just don’t, and neither does he. He holds you decently tight and you feel him pat your back. 

You’ve hugged plenty of times before but it felt a little different this time. Probably because you’re pressed up against his bare skin. It makes you feel a bit sheepish. 

You pull away from him. “Feel better now?” 

He nods with a smile. His cheeks are pink, but this time it’s not from the liquor. 

Jake’s POV

I can’t help but feel disappointed when she lets go of me. 

I shouldn’t have patted her back that's a dad thing to do. 

Her makeup has started to run down her face which makes me giggle.

“What?” she asks.

“Your mascara is making you look crazy.” I say and her hands fly to her face.

“Shit I forgot I had it on.” she attempts to wipe it away but all it does is smear it across her face. 

“Here,” I say and float over to her. “I’ll help you.” this was not on purpose.

I hold her face as gently as I can in my hands and rub the runny mascara off with my thumbs. I dip my fingers into the water to get all of the bits off. 

I want to kiss her so badly, but I know that I’ll never do it. Sometimes I get irritated at myself for not being able to confess. I think Jay and Sunghoon get irritated about it too. 

“You talk about her all the time man just ask her out.”

I don't know why I can’t do it. If she rejects me she’ll do it nicely and things would go back to normal pretty soon. But I don’t think I could live knowing that my feelings would never be reciprocated. Sometimes I get a feeling that she likes me too but I can never be too sure. 

“All gone.” I say and she thanks me. 

She lets her self float on her back. She has a small smile on her face and she’s so pretty I could cry. There have been multiple times where I nearly cried over how much I like her.

“What are your thinking about?” I ask.

“You know I never know how to answer that.” she bleats. “My mind always goes blank when you ask.”

“Well try to remember what you were thinking about then.” 

“Us.” she says plainly.  “Us?” I questioned. “What about us?” “I don’t know, just how I met you guys and how happy I am to be friends with you all.” she says. 

Oh. She meant all of us. 

“Yeah me too.” I agree, trying not to sound down. “Who’s your favorite?”

She snorts. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Of course you do,” I say. “and it better be me.”

“Why would it be you?” she jeers. 

I frown. “Because we met first.”

“I’m kidding, of course you’re my favorite.” she admits.

“And why is that?” I egg her on and she rolls her eyes. 

“Because we met first.”

I sigh. “Is that all?”

“Mhm.” she says. 

Y/N’s POV

You’re met with InNOut that Sunghoon and Jay got and also a room full of teenage boys. The younger ones were laying on their stomachs on a bed together, watching something on a laptop. Sunghoon and Jay were trying to watch t.v. You say trying because of the furious clicking on the remote. 

“What the hell are you guys trying to do?” you and Jake plop onto the one empty bed.

“Trying to find the porn.” Jay grumbles.

“Infront of the children?” you look over at the younger ones.

“They don’t care they’re watching YouTube.” he says, still clicking. 

You take a bite of your burger. “You have an endless arena of porn on your phone why do you want the t.v. one?”

“The t.v. makes it special.” Sunghoon says. 

“Weird.” you mutter to yourself.  “They’re probably gonna make you pay for it too.” Jake chimes in. 

“Do you think it’ll go to the school’s credit card or whatever?” Jay asks with wide eyes.

“I don't know but if it does they’ll know it’s from our room.” he says through a full mouth. 

You grab pajamas out of your bag and head to the bathroom to shower. 

You come out feeling fresh and the younger ones have gone back to their room now. 

“My turn,” Jake says, walking into the bathroom. 

You sit next to Sunghoon on his bed and start scrolling through your phone. 

“Should I get this sweater or this one.” he holds his phone up to you and shows you light blue sweater and a black one.

“Second one.” you say.

“Really?” he questions. “I feel like it’ll make me look emo.”

“You should become emo honestly. It would look good.” you reply and he chuckles. 

“You’d have to help me with my eyeliner every morning.”

“Yeah,” you giggle “wait can I do it right now? I wanna see how you’d look.”

“Right now?” he cocks a brow and you nod. “Okay but don’t give me raccoon eyes.”

“I won’t I won’t.” you rush over to your bag and bring your make clutch to the bed. 

“Hold still.” you tell him as you give him smokey winged liner.

“It tickles.” he says, trying not to blink too much.

“Beauty is pain.” you clean up the wing with your nail. 

In a couple minutes you’re done. “Finished." you say.

“Lemme see.” he grabs a hand mirror from your clutch and holds it up to his face. “Hold on. This looks kinda good.”

“Right?” you had to admit it; he looked gorgeous.

“Why are you so pretty?” Jay says from his bed. 

Soon Jake came out of the shower and it was hard to deny how good looking he is especially with his damp hair. How could someone make a t-shirt and sweats look so good? He dumps his laundry by his bag. 

“Does Sunghoon have makeup on?” he asks, settling onto his bed.

“Yeah doesn’t it looks nice?” you ask and he agrees. 

“Y/N are you gonna sleep here or in your room.” Jay asks.

“I thought I would just sleep on the floor here.” you suggest and he furrows his brows. 

“No that’s mean. Share a bed with someone.”

“You should sleep with Jake.” Sunghoon elbows you in the side and you shoot him a dirty look. “We all know he wants you to anyway.”

“Fuck off Sunghoon.” Jake looks over at him with a piercing stare, a contrast to his pink cheeks. 

“Is it okay if I do?” you ask him and he nods.

“Yeah for sure.”

Sunghoon snickers. 

“I hate you.” Jake scowls. 

After a couple hours of watching movies and horsing around it’s nearly midnight and your eyes are getting heavy. 

You crawl under the covers and scroll on your phone a bit before trying to sleep. Despite how tired you are it’s hard to sleep with the boys chatting and snickering to each other. 

“Can you guys quiet down?” you ask them.

“Sorry.” Jay says. 

After maybe an hour of sleep, you feel someone get on the bed. Probably Jake, you think to yourself. His little sighs as he gets comfortable are cute. 

“You awake?” he whispers. 

“Mm?” you turn on your side to face him. “Yeah.”

“Cool.” he says. The room is dark but the moonlight helps you make out the outline of his face. 

‘What’s up?” you ask.

“Nothin.” he says and you giggle.

“Okay weirdo. Go to bed.” you close your eyes, stilling facing him though. 

“I’m not tired.” he says.

“Count sheep.”

“That never works for me.” he sighs. “Sing me to sleep.”

You try to slap him in the arm but you end up hitting his face. “Oh shit sorry!”

“Ow!” he whines. “Why do you keep hurting me?”

“It was an accident!” you whisper and rub at his cheek a bit. 

“Now I actually deserve a hug.” he pouts and you roll your eyes.

“You are not five years old.”

“I still want the hug.” he says plainly and you sigh.

“Fine.” you scooch over to him and pull him into your chest. You pat his back. “There there. Better now?”

He shakes his head. “It still hurts.”

“You’re embarrassing yourself.” you scoff. 

“I have no shame when it comes to your affection, you should know that by now.” he smiles.

You feel his arm fall over your waist and his hand slide up your back. It gives you goosebumps.

You’re cuddling with him. You guys are cuddling right now. You think to yourself. No you’re not, you’re just...hugging. Right?

Jake pulls away to look at you. “I need to tell you something.”

“Are you gonna say your mom again?” you ask and he shakes his head. 

“No,” he says giggling. “it’s something for real.” 

“Okay what is it?”

He takes a sharp inhale. “I like you.” he winces. 

Your heart jumps a bit. “I know.”

“What?” he laughs.  “You’re very obvious about it.” you chuckle.  “Are you rejecting me?” he asks and you shake your head. 

“I would never.” you pull him in by the back of neck and push your lips against his.