#allowing anons is taken for granted sometimes

[beheworthy]

You don't like seeing Thor and Jane fighting, right? You seem to avoid posting about this all the time.You seem to run away, but you like to put a lot of that into your fanfictions.

Is this an investigation? Am I being put on trial? Will I get shot for this?

"avoid posting about this all the time.You seem to run away, but you like to"

Am I allowed to post what I like and not post what I don't like or do I need to take your written permission for every post?

I do have an answer to your question but I'm not going to say now.

[em1i2a3]

Signs

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/The Sentry/The Void x Thunderbolts!Fem!Reader

Summary: You haven’t been able to sleep for the past four days, you’ve tried everything in the book, but tonight Bob has come to your room to offer you some help.

Warnings: Semi-Spoilers for Thunderbolts because Bob is involved and there are mentions of his past (that aren’t really explored completely in the movie but hey…It’s just in case lol), Fluff-ish, Hurt/Comfort (Kinda), Mentions of Past Drug Use, Mentions of Readers Past Traumatic Experience, Established Friendship between Reader and Bob.

Author's Note: Hey y’all, I don’t know if I can somehow recover the darn request but this was a request from an Anon, if it was you thank you for the ask! This one was fun to write! Can’t wait to keep chipping away at the ask list! Hope y’all enjoy :)

Word Count: 7,338

You and the ceiling in your room had taken on a strange sort of companionship.

You’d memorized every crack in the plaster, every faint shadow that was casted by the bustling city outside your window, every blemish that faded across it–remnants of the last person who stayed in this exact room, someone who liked to put little glow in the dark stars on their ceiling.

For four nights you had found yourself in the same position. Sleepless, yet exhausted. Your body was begging for rest, but your mind just wouldn’t allow it.

You had tried everything under the sun to induce sleep.

You tried herbal tea–chamomile, lemon balm, even the “Sleepytime Knockout” blend that Yelena had smugly handed you like it was a modern day miracle, which you had proven it was not. You tried an array of different white noises–whirring fans, tv static, waves, but it only made you feel nauseous. You took warm baths, wore flannel pajamas, you even bought a weighted blanket–which now lays on the desk across from you because it felt like it was suffocating you. You even tried mint scented melatonin pillow spray, and that didn’t work–although it did leave your pillow smelling quite fresh.

Even with all those attempts at trying to resolve your insomnia, your thoughts just wouldn’t let you go. They clung to you like burrs in fabric–small, sharp, and impossible to shake off once they made themselves at home. They weren’t loud–not always. Sometimes they whispered, and other times they just echoed–half finished sentences, things you didn’t say when you should’ve, flashes from old missions that blurred at the edges like fog on glass, and regrets that you just couldn’t shake from your system.

You were tired in a way that felt cellular–tired of the stillness, of fighting your own brain, of crying every little thing you thought about in silence. Your chest felt tight and full. Like your body had been holding its breath for too long and didn’t remember how to let go.

The longer you stayed still under the thin white sheet you had pulled on top of you, the heavier your thoughts became. They didn’t scream, they just looped in this quiet, methodical way–cruel in how convincing they were. You thought about things that you had ruined by your own hands, people you had killed, innocent civilians that suffered the shrapnel of your actions. You were guilty of so much, and sometimes during these nights you felt like you had blood on your hands–real, warm, and sticky crimson blood that sunk under your nails and stained your skin.

It was a quiet kind of drowning, where you just allowed yourself to sink, thinking whatever was weighing you down would let you go so you could break the surface again, but it was never that easy.

You turned your head to the side, letting the cool cotton of your pillow brush against your cheek–damp from the heat trapped underneath the covering. You’d flipped it three times already tonight, hoping the fresh side might grant you sleep, but it never did.

Your fingers curled loosely around the sheet like they used to hold something, someone, once. Your knuckles ached, even though you had taken a break from training because you were too exhausted–Bucky had told you it was phantom pain, something he had experienced with his arm.

The air in your room felt used. Like it had been breathed in and out too many times, like it couldn’t carry comfort for anyone anymore. You wished, suddenly and without warning, for something as simple as a breeze to blow through your room, just something to reset the air. Something to prove there was still hope for sleep.

Instead, there was the occasional honk of a car too far away to care about, and sirens that distantly cried through the dark like tired wolves. It all passed you by. Out there, the world kept turning on its axis, but here–in your bedroom–everything was slow and suffocating, like you were drowning in molasses.

You closed your eyes tightly, and saw things you didn’t want to see.

The face of a boy whose name you never learned. The tremble in your own hands after pulling the trigger. A woman screaming. The echo of silence that followed. You brought your hands to your face, and pressed your palms over your eyes like maybe darkness could cancel out darkness, but it only made it worse. All it did was give the thoughts more room to expand.

You remember the moment you let someone die–not because you had no choice, but because you hesitated. You remember the blood that splattered on your face.

Even now–years later–on nights like this, those moments still felt fresh. You shook your head a little like it might scatter them, and curled in on yourself under the weight of it all, knees drawing up to your chest and arms tucked close like you could press yourself into sleep with the pressure alone.

Then, you heard a sound.

It was faint, almost imperceptible, but your brain was so trained to be on edge that you noticed those little noises. There was shuffling. The subtle creak of a floorboard. A soft rustle of fabric, then the nearly soundless click of a door opening from the room next door to yours. Bob’s.

You could feel your heart stutter at the noise when you realized he was awake too, but your ears tuned in more sharply now.

You could tell he was walking carefully–barefoot, you imagined, moving down the hallway like he was trying not to disturb anyone. His weight shifted gently, like he knew exactly where the creaky floorboards were, like he’d done this many times before. You slowly opened your eyes, staring up at the ceiling, heart pressing tightly in your chest, squeezing and contracting like it was struggling to regain its rhythm. You didn’t move, nor did you call out…Because what would you say? “I heard you. I’m glad you’re up too? I’m a mess and I wish you could fix it but I’d never let you try?”

No. Because you didn’t want to bother him.

Bob was kind. Gentle. The kind of man who offered you the last slice of pizza with a shrug like it didn’t matter to him, even though he was still hungry, the kind of person who always held the door just a second longer than necessary, the kind of person who would fight to give you the world even if it meant he needed to sacrifice something from himself to do so.

He was your friend, and you liked the friendship too much to chip at it with things he didn’t ask for. You kept the nightmares that plagued you to yourself. The sleepless night. The guilt. The ache.

You had to.

Because if Bob ever saw that part of you–the part still bloodstained and shaking–maybe he’d stop looking at you the way he did when it was just you and him. With eyes soft and full like you were something gentle and special to him, instead of something that was broken into millions of pieces.

So you stayed quiet, and let him drift down the hallway like a ghost. Maybe he was just getting water, maybe he had a nightmare, maybe he was sleepwalking and wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning.

And maybe…Maybe that was better.

Because some people in the compound had already caught on to your issues. Early on, after you joined the team. Yelena had raised an eyebrow the first time you turned up at breakfast with the bags under your eyes heavy enough to pack for a weekend trip. Walker had made a joke about you needing depuffing cream. Ava had noticed too, once–her voice casual but precise when she’d asked, “You sleep at all last night?”

You always gave the same answer. A shrug. A smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine. Just a long dream.”

And somehow, they let it go.

But Bob–

Bob had never asked.

Not because he didn’t notice, you suspected. But because he respected your quiet. Because he waited for permission.

And that? That made it worse in the best way.

Because you could feel how much he wanted to ask. On the days he’d hand you your coffee and hover an extra beat too long. On the nights he’d walk you to your room after training and say, “Sleep well,” with a voice that felt more like a hope than a goodbye.

You kept listening to his movements though. There was a soft rummaging sound from the kitchen, the slow creak of a cabinet opening. The unmistakable clink of ceramic–just one, like he was pulling out a mug, not a glass. Then, quieter still, the dull metallic sound of a pot.

Your brows furrowed, glancing over at your clock to see that it was 3:21 AM.

You thought it was super late for him to be cooking something for himself, but then again he had mentioned in passing that after he received the Sentry serum it caused his metabolism to spike, and it made him feel like he was starving at odd times of the day–enough to put him on the brink of pain if he didn’t eat properly.

You heard a soft mutter, barely a whisper, but you couldn’t make it out–oftentimes you’d catch him talking to himself when he assumed he was alone, and this seemed like one of those times. Then came the hum of the fridge opening. The gentle click of a cap twisting loose. A drawer. A utensil. A quiet clink-clink of metal tapping ceramic.

He was definitely making something.

But you couldn’t piece together what it was, there were too many confusing sounds.

So you just sighed, and turned over slowly, the sheets rustling faintly beneath you as your gaze fell on the window.

The city beyond the glass was still awake, and buzzing with energy surprisingly. A few lights blinked in neighboring buildings. A plane cut silently through the sky in the distance, red lights flashing against the black. Clouds moved slow and soft, brushed in pale grey, like smeared charcoal across paper.

And behind them–stars. Only a few. Faint. Distant. Struggling against the glow of the skyline. But they were there. You stared at them for a long time. Let yourself trace imagined constellations. Let your breathing slow just enough to pretend your thoughts had too.Trying to give yourself the illusion of calm, even as the memory of his voice–not the words, just the sound of him–lingered in the hallway air like warmth that hadn’t faded yet.

Whatever Bob was doing in the kitchen was done now, at least that’s what you thought because the noise had halted. He was probably back in his room, probably eating at his desk, or curled up beneath his sheets, trying not to do what you were doing–thinking too hard, wanting too much, or hoping for something that would never be offered to you.

Minutes passed. You weren’t sure how many. Maybe five. Maybe twenty. It stretched and folded in on itself the way time always did when it was so early in the morning–when sleep was out of reach but everything else felt a little too close.

Then you heard it…Tap Tap.

Two knocks. Gentle. Hesitant. Like punctuation at the end of a sentence you didn’t know had been written for you.

Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, and you turned over quickly, the sheet slipping off your shoulder, pooling around your hips as your eyes landed on the door.

There was a shadow there. Still and uncertain. You could see it through the sliver of light spilling beneath the frame–two bare feet planted quietly on the hardwood.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up and out of bed. The room was cool, and your skin prickled under the change in air. Your loose, worn Stark Industries t-shirt that hung off your shoulder, the hem brushing the tops of your thigh. A pair of navy flannel sleep shorts clung gently to your hips and your legs were bare all the way down to your toes, which curled instinctively against the cold of the floor as you moved toward the door.

You reached for the handle, hesitated–just for a breath–and then opened it.

And there he was.

Bob, standing in the soft halo of hallway light, looking every bit as fragile and gentle as the moment deserved. His hair was tousled–bed-tousled, like he had also been tossing and turning a dozen times tonight as well. Soft light brown waves of hair hung over his forehead, catching the light, almost like it was emoting a crown of sorts.

He wore a familiar dark red hoodie, the sleeves were shoved up around his elbows, and the cotton was warped at the seams from how often he picked and fidgeted in it. His plaid pajama pants were rumpled and hit just above his ankles.

And in his hands, cupped with a kind of gentleness you had seen countless times before, was a simple white ceramic mug.

Steam curled up from it in delicate swirls, spiralin in the stillness between you. The smell hit you softly–milk, warm and rich, and a sweet hint of honey. The scent wrapped around you, caressing your skin.

Bob’s eyes met yours, and you saw the surprise in his face at the fact you had even gotten up to open the door. His lips parted, like he was going to say something but his eyes kept going over you, distracting his brain from saying what he wanted to.

”Hey.” You whispered, rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, before returning your gaze back to his, “You okay?” Bob flinched like your voice startled him. Like he’d been standing there for longer than he meant to, lost in thought, and not expecting you to say anything first.

He looked down at the mug in his hands, then returned his gaze to yours, his thumbs shifting nervously against the ceramic rim.

”Y-Yeah,” He said, his voice scratchy with sleep, and soft around the edges, “Yeah, I’m good…I just…I just heard you.” You didn’t say anything–just tilted your head slightly, brow furrowing. He cleared his throat, eyes flicking briefly toward the shared wall behind you.

”Through the wall I-I mean. Through the wall. I–I didn’t mean to. I just…You’ve been tossing a lot the last few nights, and I wasn’t sure if…You wanted me to do anything but tonight it just…” He looked down at the mug again, then shrugged a little, awkward and quiet, “I couldn’t lay in there anymore…Felt wrong.” Your heart thudded in your chest–not from panic, but from something warmer. Softer. Something dangerously close to comfort. Bob shifted again, like he thought maybe he should start walking away, like maybe he overstepped.

Bob swallowed thickly, like the nerves were caught somewhere behind his tongue, and with a small, careful motion, he held the mug out to you.

”It’s…It’s just warm milk with some honey…No-Nothing fancy or anything, just…Just something my mom used to m-make me when I was really small…” Bob rarely mentioned his mother, once in a blue moon he would say something in passing, and it was always about something she used to enjoy, but he never spoke about anything further than that. You never pushed, you knew the history, you knew his file like the back of your hand actually, so you understood what was off limits for conversation.

“She…Used to say that it worked b-better than anything else..I guess I was hoping maybe…Maybe it could help you too.” He wasn’t looking at you anymore. His eyes had dropped to the mug in his hands still, or maybe to the floor–anywhere but your face, as he waited for you to take it, still rubbing anxiously at the rim like there was a stain you couldn’t see.

You reached out, your fingers brushing his as you gently took the mug. The ceramic was warm, and the steam curled softly under your chin. The scent wrapped around you like a memory you’d never had—soft, homey, achingly kind.

”Thank you,” You whispered, so quietly you weren’t even sure he heard it, but then he nodded. You glanced up at him again, “Do you want to come in?” Bob hesitated for half a second at your invitation, caught off guard by the offer.

”…Only if it’s okay with you…” He replied, and almost immediately you stepped to the side, motioning for him to come in. He stepped past the door frame and into your room, his bare feet making almost no sound against the hardwood floor.

Your room wasn’t messy exactly, but it had the unmistakable signs of someone who lived inside their own thoughts too much–stacks of books were on the nightstand, a half-folded hoodie draped over the office chair in the corner, a mug with a plant sprouting from it on the windowsill.

The shelf across from your bed was lined with board games–stacked neatly but densely, as if you collected them slowly over time, favorites worn down at the corners from use, or from age. There were also tiny figurines lined up beside them–small, whimsical things that looked hand painted. There were also a few vintage snow globes from places you’d never been but had always meant to visit. It was little pieces of nostalgia and comfort that made the space feel like yours.

Bob didn’t say anything right away, but you noticed the way he gravitated toward the shelf, his eyes scanning the games in the darkness with an unmistakable curiosity. He crouched a little, careful not to touch anything, just reading the spines.

”You’ve got Clue…” He murmured, almost to himself, “T-The good version…With the m-miniature weapons…” You smiled softly at that and returned to your bed, setting the mug down gently on the nightstand before slipping beneath your sheet again. It barely warmed you, but it was just to cover yourself up a bit. With Bob being there the air already started to feel different–less used, less still. Like you could breathe just a little bit easier, even though your chest still felt tight.

“We can play something if you’d like…” You said gently, watching the way his fingers hovered near a box labeled Codenames before pulling back. You reached over and picked the mug back up from the nightstand, cupping it in both hands as the warmth seeped into your skin, bringing it up to your lips before taking a small sip–just enough to taste the gentle swirl of honey at the back of your tongue. It was soothing. Sweet. A kind of simple comfort that felt foreign to you.

”You sure you’re up for it?” He asked quietly, still looking at the shelves.

”Positive, besides…It’ll probably take a bit for this to work.” You said, motioning to the mug even though he wasn’t looking over at you. Bob’s fingers hover over a couple of boxes–Ticket to Ride, Bananagrams, even a battered-looking deck of Uno–but eventually settled on Scrabble. His hand lingered on the side of the box, thumb brushing over the worn cardboard like he was trying to gauge how many games had been played on it before.

”Scrabble okay?” He asked, moving to the side slightly so you could see the box, as a small smile tugged at your lips.

”Sure.” Bob slipped the box out of the pile and stepped toward your bed, careful not to knock into anything in the low light, and then out of nowhere you pointed toward your desk.

”Just turn on the salt lamp, it’ll be easier on the eyes than the overhead light, and we won’t go blind trying to read the little tiles while we play.” Bob gave a small nod and padded softly over to your desk, careful not to disturb the stacks of paper and stray pens scattered across the surface. He bent slightly, fingers brushing the dial of the salt lamp, and with a gentle click, it bloomed to life.

A soft amber glow filled the room-like the last light of day spilling across hardwood and skin. It curled into the corners, brushing gold over his cheekbones and catching faintly in the strands of his hair. The shadows no longer felt sharp, just softened edges fading into the warm orange hush.

As Bob straightened, his eyes flicked–almost unintentionally–over the contents of your desk. Notebooks flipped open to half-finished thoughts. Old mission reports, some with ink smudged across the corners where you’d rested your palm. Paperwork from the Thunderbolts med team. A few loose pages caught his eye–your handwriting sharp and slanted, trailing off into sentences he couldn’t quite make out. But the word “decompensating” was there. He didn’t linger though. He looked away just as quickly, like he hadn’t seen it at all.

He made his way back toward your bed and set the Scrabble box gently down between the both of you, careful not to make too much noise. He lowered himself carefully onto the edge of your bed, tucking his long legs beneath him and sitting criss-crossed on the sheets like a tall child. The salt lamp’s glow warmed the fabric of his hoodie, casting a faint orange hue along the planes of his face and deepening the shadows beneath his lashes. His posture was relaxed, but the tension in his hands betrayed the way he was holding himself still–like he wasn’t quite sure how close he was allowed to be.

You started setting up the board in front of you, drawing the tile racks from the box and arranging the letter pouch off to the side. You felt his eyes on you–not in a way that made you nervous, but in a way that made you feel seen. Quietly observed. Almost studied, like he didn’t want to miss a moment.

“How’s the drink?” He asked softly, voice still rough, like he hadn’t fully settled into being awake.

You glanced over at him and gave a faint smile. “It’s really good,” You said truthfully. “A little sweet, but…It definitely soothes. Or at least it feels like it’s trying to.”

Bob’s lips curved into something warm, the kind of smile you only get from someone who made something just for you and got it right.

“I haven’t made it in a while,” He murmured, eyes dropping briefly to your hands wrapped around the mug. “Didn’t know if it’d still be…I don’t know... W-Worth making.”

“It was,” You said, and then, after a pause, you leaned forward slightly, holding the mug out toward him. “Want a sip?”

His eyes lifted in surprise. For a second, he didn’t answer–just blinked at the offer like you’d handed him something much more important than a half-finished drink. But then he nodded, once, gently, and reached for it.

His fingers brushed yours as he took the mug, and you didn’t let go immediately. Neither did he.

The weight of the silence stretched between you, not heavy, but delicate. Something balanced. Breakable.

Then Bob looked down, brought the mug to his lips, and took a small sip–barely anything, like he was trying not to take too much. When he handed it back to you, his thumb lingered on the handle just a beat longer than it needed to.

“It’s…Yeah,” He said, voice low. “S-Still good.”

You didn’t reply, just gave him a quiet smile as you settled back, placing the mug carefully on your nightstand again. He straightened a little as you began to draw your tiles.

A few moments passed like that–quiet rustling of letter tiles, soft exhales, the hum of the city outside whispering beneath it all. Bob watched you with a quiet intensity–eyes soft, but wholly focused, like the flickering glow of the salt lamp had burned everything else out of view except for you.

You laid down your first word slowly, pressing each wooden tile into place with a soft click that seemed to echo louder than it should in the hush of the room.

“Still.”

He tilted his head slightly as he read it, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like he thought the word was fitting in more ways than one.

You didn’t say anything. Just watched as his gaze dropped to his own rack of letters, brows drawing together slightly in concentration. His shoulders were curved inward, posture just shy of guarded, and his fingers fiddled with a tile between his thumb and forefinger, turning it slowly over and over in his palm like he wasn’t quite ready to play his move.

You could’ve looked away.

But you didn’t.

There was something about watching Bob think–watching the way he wrestled with something so small and inconsequential with the same care he gave to life-and-death situations–that made you feel like maybe nothing was inconsequential to him. Maybe that was part of what made him so easy to be near. He never treated anything like it was small, especially not you.

”…Why were you awake?” You asked, voice soft but clear, threading gently into the space between you like a breath that didn’t want to startle him. He didn’t look up immediately, but his thumb paused on the tile he was holding, and you saw his jaw tighten–just slightly, like he was sifting through what he wanted to say. Eventually, he set the tile down without adding it to the board, glancing up at you for a moment before looking down at his hands.

”S-Sometimes I get these…Muscle spasms,” He said, clasping his hands together slowly, “Uh…It started when I g-got clean. Back then…I chalked it up to j-just withdrawal symptoms or whatever…” He offered a small shrug, but it looked more like he was trying to take the weight of the memory off his shoulders, “But t-they never really went away…Even after the whole…Sentry serum thing.” You felt something inside you still at that–your breath, your hands, the thoughts that had been crawling under your skin just moments before. Bob had never talked about this, yes he had mentioned it in passing but he never went into details. Not with you, not with anyone in the compound as far as you knew. And he didn’t speak of it now with bitterness or shame–just quiet, exhausted honesty.

His fingers tapped lightly against his knee now, the motion faint but rhythmic. He wasn’t looking at you. Not fully. Just past you, like it might be easier to keep talking if your gaze wasn’t anchored to his.

“It’s not like–a c-constant thing,” He murmured. “Not always. But some nights…” His voice faltered for a breath, then gathered itself again, “Some nights it feels like my skin doesn’t fit right. L-Like something’s twisting underneath. And if I stay still too long, it gets worse. Hurts.” You stayed still, letting his words settle in the room like dust in a shaft of light. Not brushing them away. Not rushing to respond. You just…Let him be heard.

“And what about tonight?” You asked gently. Bob’s shoulders rose slightly at your question, like a breath caught halfway up his chest and couldn’t decide whether it wanted to stay there or fall. He didn’t answer right away, but you didn’t rush him. You just…Watched.

There was a fragility in the way he was sitting now–his tall body folded inward, arms loosely draped across his lap like he was trying not to take up more space than he deserved. The plaid of his pajama pants creased softly at his knees, and the hem of his hoodie had ridden up slightly where it bunched at his hips, exposing the edge of a thin white undershirt. He was swaying–just barely. That kind of instinctive motion people did when they were trying to self-soothe without realizing it.

And his hands–those quiet, trembling hands–were doing that thing again. Fingers laced loosely, thumbs rubbing in absent loops over each other like they were chasing comfort around and around.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low. Careful.

“It started in my thighs first,” He murmured, eyes fixed on the little wooden tiles in front of him like they might spell out a safer version of the truth. “Like this…C-Crawling pressure...”

You stayed quiet. Just listened.

“Then my back,” He added. “It always finds my back eventually. S-Sometimes it feels like–like something’s winding itself around my spine and pulling tight, and if I don’t move or stretch or…J-Just do something, it’s like I’m gonna shatter from the inside out.”

His voice broke a little on the last word, not from emotion but from the wear of speaking it aloud. He cleared his throat gently.

“I-I tried laying on the floor for a bit,” He continued, almost like he was narrating it to himself now. “It’s supposed to help sometimes. G-Grounding or whatever. I-I even tried counting backwards from a h-hundred, but I kept getting stuck on the same numbers…And I kept hearing…Hearing you t-tossing and turning.” Bob’s voice trailed off, and he looked up at you. His eyes were glassy in the amber light, not from tears, but from the kind of fatigue that went deeper than rest could fix. There was something raw in them–open and flickering with the effort of holding himself together. He gave a small, almost helpless shrug, like he didn’t know what else to do with the weight of what he’d said. Like the words had cost him more than he was willing to admit.

Then he glanced down at the board again, blinking like he was trying to reset his brain.

Silence stretched between you–but not the painful kind. It was the kind that wrapped itself around vulnerability like a blanket, the kind that said you’re allowed to feel this without needing to explain it.

You watched him as he shook himself a little–shoulders rolling back, breath catching in his throat like he was trying to brush something invisible off his skin. Then, without a word, he reached forward and laid his tiles on the board.

He pressed them down with gentle fingers, slow and deliberate, connecting to your word.

“Laying.”

Bob’s fingers withdrew slowly from the tiles, then settled in his lap again. You could still see the pink crescents of tension pressed into the skin where his nails had worried the edge of his thumb.

He glanced at you.

His eyes were steady now, but there was nothing sharp in them–just soft weariness. Mutual understanding. He looked like someone who had finally let a little of the weight slip from his shoulders, only to realize there was more to carry still.

“Can I–I ask you something?” He said, voice quiet but sure, like he didn’t want to startle the air between you.

You nodded, wordlessly.

“Why’ve you been…H-Having trouble sleeping?”

He didn’t ask it like a challenge. There was no tilt to his tone, no pressure to answer. Just a quiet offering of space. A question given without a demand. Like the mug he had handed you. Like the warmth in it.

You could’ve deflected. You could’ve lied–said it was the city noise or the caffeine or bad luck or anything else.

But Bob was looking at you like he’d listen to every word. Like none of it would make him turn away.

So, after a moment, you folded your hands in your lap, fingers tracing over one another like you were stitching the truth together slowly, gently.

“I’ve done…Pretty reprehensible things Bob…” His gaze didn’t waver. If anything, it softened.

You looked down at your hands in your lap, thumbs brushing over each other in a rhythm that didn’t calm you but at least kept you from unraveling.

“There are nights I can’t close my eyes without seeing it all. Not like a nightmare–those would be easier. You wake up from nightmares. These are… Flashes. Full-color, real-time, high-definition plays of everything I shouldn’t have let happen.” You laughed, just barely–a breath, really. Bitter at the edges. “Sometimes I think my memory’s too good. Like it’s punishing me for surviving when others didn’t.”

Bob didn’t speak. His silence wasn’t a void–it was presence. It was him listening the way only he could. The way that told you this space was yours to fill.

You pressed your palms together, trying to hold in the shake that had started at your fingertips.

“There’s this one kid,” You said, and your voice faltered for just a second, “–I didn’t even get his name. He couldn’t have been older than seventeen. He looked at me like I was going to save him. And I didn’t. I froze.” Your throat tightened. “I froze, and he died. I still see his face. Every time. Like he’s just waiting for me to try again and do it right this time.”

The silence between you grew deeper–but not colder.

“I know people say we all make mistakes, that we’ve all got blood on our hands in this job, but…” You swallowed hard, “But some mistakes don’t wash off,” You whispered. Then came a sigh–slow, worn-out, the kind that scraped the bottom of your lungs and left you a little emptier than before.

“Guess I just have to live with it,” You said softly, eyes fixed on the board between you. Your thumb dragged slowly over the edge of your tile rack, a motion that felt mechanical, just something for your hands to do so they didn’t shake. “You know? Make peace with the fact that some of the blood doesn’t come out, no matter how hard you scrub.” Bob was quiet for a long time. Not the kind of silence that asked you to fill it–just the kind that held things. The kind that made space for the ache in someone else’s chest.

His eyes stayed on the Scrabble board, but you could see his jaw shift, his breath catch on the edge of something he didn’t know how to say. And then he sighed–soft, almost soundless, but full of weight. Full of want. Of helplessness.

“…I–I don’t know how to fix that,” He said finally, and the words were almost apologetic. His voice was low and rough, like it scraped against his ribs on the way out. “I wish I could. I wish I had…I don’t know. A better thing to say. Or some way to–” His fingers twisted together tightly in his lap. “To take it away from you...” You looked up at him then, only to see he already had his eyes on you. His brows were pulled together. His lips parted. And his eyes–God, his eyes–were so heartbreakingly kind, even with all the pain swimming in them.

“But I–I don’t think you’re awful,” Bob said quietly. “I never have.”

Your lungs stuttered on the inhale. Like his words had knocked something loose inside your chest, and now everything you’d been bottling up wanted to come spilling out all at once.

You looked at him, really looked–at the way his lashes caught the salt lamp’s glow, at the way his mouth was pressed in a soft, worried line, like even kindness exhausted him when he meant it too much. And you wanted to say thank you, or that means more than you know, or please don’t stop looking at me like I’m worth saving–but what came out was smaller than that.

“Why?” Your voice cracked slightly as you spoke. He looked like he hadn’t expected you to ask for proof. He shook his head a little, as if you’d just missed the point completely.

“B–Because I see you.” He said quietly, and simply. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t—not when your throat felt like it was wrapped in wire, not when every muscle in your body was too tired to hold up all that guilt and all that tenderness at the same time.

But you held his gaze, and in the stillness that followed, something unspoken passed between you. Something that didn’t need to be named.

Bob shifted slightly, like your silence was something he was afraid to misread. “I didn’t mean that in some dramatic way,” He added quickly, his voice softer now. “I just… I h-have watched you hold everything in. I’ve watched you show up when it’s hard. W-When it hurts. And you don’t complain, you just carry it.” He blinked slowly, then smiled–just a little. “And I think… I think maybe someone should carry some of it with you, even if it’s just for a night.”

Your chest ached. You wanted to cry. But no tears came–just that deep, hollow breath that tried to make room for the feeling swelling inside you. You didn’t speak. Not at first. Because there was something so impossibly gentle in the way he said it–that he’d watched you carry it, that he wanted to carry it too–that you felt your heart stammer under the weight of being seen like that.

Not as a soldier. Not as an asset. Not even as a teammate.

But as you.

The person who lay awake four nights in a row memorizing the ceiling. The one who couldn’t scrub their hands clean. The one who still heard screams in silence.

And he still wanted to stay.

You looked down at the Scrabble board between you, and your hand hovered over your tiles for a second…Then dropped.

”I don’t think I can play anymore,” You whispered. Bob stilled completely.

You weren’t looking at him when you said it–your gaze fixed somewhere in the space between the board and your knees, your voice small and raw. You could feel his eyes on you, though, full of concern he hadn’t figured out how to put into words yet.

When you didn’t say anything else, Bob shifted slightly beside you. You caught the movement from the corner of your eye–the way his posture went from soft to stiff, the way he folded a little tighter into himself, his fingers fidgeting again like they were trying to untangle guilt from nothing.

“I–I’m sorry,” He said quickly, almost in a breath. “I shouldn’t have–I didn’t mean to push anything on you. If I made you uncomfortable, I can go. I didn’t mean to…”

You looked over at him then. His face was turned slightly down, his shoulders drawn up like he was expecting you to flinch away. The game between you had been gently nudged aside, but the distance left in its wake felt like something colder. Something afraid. Like Bob was already slipping back into himself, already preparing to apologize for wanting to be close to you at all.

You reached for him before you could stop yourself.

“Bob,” Your hand found his–warm and rough and trembling faintly beneath your touch–and you could hear his breath catch at the contact. “I don’t want you to leave,” You said softly. His eyes lifted slowly, hesitant and searching, as if he was still trying to make sure he’d heard you right–like maybe his mind had tricked him into hope again. But you didn’t look away. Your fingers were still wrapped around his, steady even if the rest of you wasn’t.

“I just…” You swallowed, the words pressing at the back of your throat like they’d been waiting for too long. “I just want you to lay down with me now, I think. And just hold me.”

You didn’t mean for your voice to come out so small, but there was no disguising the softness in it. The ache. The quiet want. You weren’t asking for much–just closeness. Just something real to rest your head against when the ceiling stopped being enough. And you watched it land in Bob’s eyes like it was something special.

“O-Okay…If that’s what you want…” He said gently, afraid the moment might shatter if he spoke too loud. He glanced down at the Scrabble board still sitting between you on the bed. Carefully, with hands that still trembled slightly, Bob reached for the box and began to collect the scattered wooden tiles, his fingers moving slow and deliberate. He wasn’t rushing. He handled each piece like it deserved care. You watched the way he placed them back into their pouch, then tucked it inside the box, closed the lid with a quiet thud, and stood.

Your gaze followed him as he padded back across the room toward your desk. He placed the box down in the empty space beside your half-folded hoodie, and then paused for just a second–like he was giving you one last moment to change your mind.

You didn’t.

Instead, you peeled back the thin white sheet over your body, slow and quiet, lifting the edge and waiting. The salt lamp made the folds of it glow softly, casting warm gold against your bare thighs, your Stark shirt, the rise and fall of your breath.

Bob turned. His eyes met yours, and for a heartbeat, you saw everything in them–his fear of doing too much, of being too much, and right beneath that, his need to be near you. The need to be wanted back.

He crossed the space in three long steps, slow and hesitant. His hand brushed the side of the bed, fingers curling lightly against the mattress before he eased himself down beside you.

He lay on his side, knees bent, close but not yet touching you. You felt the warmth of him, the faint scent of that old hoodie he always wore–faded detergent, sleep, and something that could only be described as Bob.

You turned onto your side too, slowly, until your back was to him. The sheet shifted with you, and for a second, neither of you spoke. There was just breath. The hum of the city. And the whisper of cotton against skin.

Then you felt it.

His hand.

Tentative at first–hovering like he wasn’t sure he had permission even now. But then it landed gently across your waist, his arm curling around you, pulling you just the smallest bit closer until your spine met the warmth of his chest.

You felt him exhale shakily behind you, and the sensation of it–his breath brushing the back of your neck, his chest rising and falling in time with yours–settled something deep inside you.

“Is this…Okay?” He whispered, voice so close to your ear now that it sent a shiver down your skin.

You didn’t speak right away.

Instead, you reached for his hand where it rested against your stomach. You found his fingers–calloused, long, warm–and laced yours through them slowly. Anchoring. Reassuring.

“Yeah,” You whispered back, your voice steadier than you expected it to be. “It’s better than okay.”

Bob let out a breath then–relieved, maybe, or maybe something more. You felt his grip tighten just slightly, like he was afraid you might slip away. But you didn’t.

Neither of you moved for a while.

Your fingers stayed woven with his, your back pressed to his chest, and you felt the weight of the night begin to shift. The quiet wasn’t heavy anymore. It was full. Full of warmth, presence, and safety.

He brushed the tip of his nose against the crown of your head–barely a touch, barely a breath. But it was there. A silent thank you. A soft kind of ache. A promise.

You let your eyes fall shut.

And for the first time in days, sleep didn’t feel like a distant thought.

[jadewolf22]

Hiiiii!! Could I request a Lady Jane and Wife Reader, with some domestic fluff (at least, as domestic as Lady Jane can get if you know what I mean). Maybe something like they've been apart for a really long time hunting bounties and manage to meet up for their anniversary or sm?

Happy Anniversary

Sub!Lady Jane x Dom!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Guns, mentions of extreme violence, mentions of scars, mentions of kidnapping/hunting children, smut, oral (J recieving), thigh riding (r recieving), fingering (J receiving), strap-on (J receiving), orgasm denial, ect… 

Summary: You give your lady a special gift for your first wedding anniversary.

A/n: Hi anon!! Thank you so much for the request! This is my first time ever writing for Lady Jane, so I hope I did her justice. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to include smut, but a married couple who hasn’t seen each other in a while probably wouldn’t be able to keep their hands off of each other…Word Count: 3,012

You couldn’t stop the sign that escaped your lips as you entered the threshold of your home, dropping your duffle bag and the bag of groceries you’d bought on the floor as you removed your jacket. The quaint little farmhouse that had been your childhood home was quiet, secluded by miles of dead fields and thick woodlands. You ran your fingertips over the bench along the wall, pleased to see that not too much dust had collected since your last stay. Work kept you away for weeks, sometimes months at a time and there was no one to stay and clean the place while you were gone. 

Moving away from the threshold and into the living room you smiled softly, taking a moment to walk around and glance at the multitude of pictures decorating the space. Most of the ones on the walls and bookcases were from your younger years; birthdays, vacations with your parents, school activities and accomplishments, holidays and such. But it was the ones above the hearth that you loved the most. Jane, your lady and beloved partner, wasn’t one for taking many photos so there were only a few on the mantle, and you cherished each one like they were diamonds; Your first date at the shooting range, one of her birthdays at the bar, your first Valentine's Day hunting in the woods, a few engagement photos taken while you were working a job together, and one of your wedding here one the farm placed at the centre of them all. It was your first anniversary today, exactly one year of pure happiness for the two of you despite the gruesome reality of your jobs as bounty hunters. 

The sound of tires against gravel drew you from your thoughts. You were sure you knew who it was but, just in case, you gripped the glock tusked into the waistband of your jeans as you moved to the window, peering out through the curtains. The sight of a gold car parking beside yours allowed you to relax, letting go of the weapon as you rushed back outside. You’d barely given Jane time to close her door before you were on her, strong, toned arms grabbing her by the waist and lifting her off the ground as you embraced the love of your life. A light chuckle left her lips, demanding that you set her down before she hugged you in return. 

“I missed you, my love.” you said breathily—lifting Jane off the ground was no easy feat, despite how strong you were—kissing her gently.

“And I, you.” she returned, cracking the smallest smile.

You couldn’t have stopped the large grin that spread across your face even if you wanted to, insisting that you take her things before escorting her into the house. Jane found it quite adorable how you insisted on pampering her with even the smallest tasks, such as carrying her luggage—granted, it was only two duffle bags, one filled with her guns and extra magazines. Once inside you added your own bag to the load and headed upstairs, setting the bags down on your bed before you pulled her to you and kissed her again, this one a little deeper than the last. 

“Happy anniversary, Jane.” you breathed.

“Is it our anniversary already?” she teased lightly, kissing your cheek, “My, does the time fly.”

“Indeed it does.” you agreed, moving away and beginning to unpack your bag. 

Jane did the same, the two of you unpacking in a comfortable silence. You’d missed her terribly, her presence alone helping to soothe the ache that had built up after a month apart. When you were both unpacked and her guns properly cleaned and stored away the two of you headed back downstairs, putting away the groceries and preparing dinner as you talked about your most recent jobs. Yours had been easy; a couple of greens that had escaped the compound two months back, but Jane’s had been far more difficult. She’d gotten stuck with a group of yellows who’d disappeared nearly a year ago and, apparently, they had put up quite a fight. You hated it when she took the more dangerous jobs, always afraid that one day, one of them might kill her. But you knew that Jane could hold her own and, the more dangerous the job, the better the pay. A part of you felt sorry for the kids the two of you hunted, but you knew the world was safer without them. Children with supernatural powers were a recipe for disaster.

When the food was ready the two of you sat down to eat, easily falling back into the domestic pattern you’d adopted. It was easy to push the exhaustion and anxiety of your jobs when you were like this, content and at peace in your little corner of the world. 

The meal was delicious, Jane's cooking far better than your own, and much more satisfying than the protein bars and canned food you lived off of while working. When you’d both finished, you took care of the dishes while Jane showered—despite how much you’d begged her to wait so you could join her. Once the dishes were done it was your turn to head upstairs, showering quickly and trading your dirty jeans and t-shirt for leggings and a tank top. Stepping out of the bathroom you found Jane stretched out on her side of the bed, damp brown hair cascading over her shoulders and a book in hand. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of big-bad Lady Jane looking so utterly adorable and domestic in grey sweats and a baggy red t-shirt. 

She looked up from the book before you could hide your smile, muttering, “What?” as she set it aside.

“Nothing,” you shrugged, moving towards your side of the bed, “I’m just glad you’re home. You know how worried I get when you take jobs involving yellows.” 

Jane rolled her eyes at your protectiveness, mumbling, “At least they’re not reds or oranges.” sitting up as you fished through the drawer of your nightstand, producing a black box and smiling as you sat down, presenting it to her.

“Happy anniversary, my lady.”

She rolled her eyes again at the nickname, taking the box from you and opening it with a small gasp. Nestled inside was a golden glock, the handle engraved with little vines that made both of your initials. 

“It’s beautiful, y/n.” she whispered, looking up at you, “Where did you even—?”

“I have a friend who specialises in engraving guns.” you explained, trying to suppress just how happy her reaction made you, “I  swung by his place on my way back home… Is it safe to assume you like it?”

“I love it.” you knew she did, but hearing Jane say it aloud made you ten times happier, “My turn.”

She reached over to her nightstand, plucking a little red box off of it that you had, somehow, failed to notice earlier. A cheshire-like grin adorned her face as she handed the box to you, making you that much more excited to see what was inside. Nearly tearing off the lid, your eyes fell on the silver bracelet lying against the black velvet lining of the box. At first glance, it looked like a simple band but, upon picking it up, you noticed her name engraved on the inside. Smirking, you had her help you but the bracelet on, noticing just how snuggly it fit your wrist. You laughed, realising that her name would be temporarily branded onto your skin if you wore it for long enough—and you had no intention of ever taking it off. 

“It’s perfect.” you said softly, “Thank you.”

You leaned forward and kissed her again, smiling against her lips when her hand crept up your neck to thread itself in your hair. A groan escaped you when you felt her tug at your hair, making you kiss her that much harder as you grabbed her hips and pulled her across the bed to you, manoeuvring the both of you until you were straddling her waist in the middle of the bed without breaking the kiss. Jane whimpered a little as you manhandled her, her hands moving to the hem of your tank top and pulling it up your torso. You broke the kiss just long enough for her to pull the item over your head before your lips were attacking hers again, your leggings quickly following your shirt. Sliding your hands under her shirt, you gripped the waistband of her sweatpants, removing them and her underwear in one fluid motion. Her t-shirt was torn down the middle and haphazardly tossed somewhere in the room. 

You paused for a moment and sat up, marvelling at the beauty beneath you. God, she was a masterpiece. Ivory skin that seemed to glow in the dim evening light, pale freckles splattered across her chest and shoulders, icy blue eyes dark with want, thick, deep brown hair that seemed nearly black against the white sheets underneath her, and a perfectly toned body with small, perky breasts that were practically begging for attention. You growled, your lips and teeth abusing her neck and shoulders, leaving bite-marks and bruises for her to find for days after you were done with her while your hands palmed her breasts. Jane panted and squirmed beneath you, nails tearing down your back as he hand nestled itself in your hair again, tugging harshly and scratching at your scalp. 

“Please, y/n—God! I need you!” she whined, bucking her hips up towards you in search of some kind of friction.

“Miss me so much you’re needy already, hmm?” you teased, your mouth replacing one of your hands as you nipped harshly at her breast, causing Jane to release a low, near pornographic moan.

She opened her mouth to argue but, at that moment you plunged two fingers deep into her cunt and whatever she was about to say was replaced with a loud, broken moan. A steady string of “Ah, ah, ah”s fell from her lips as your digits pounded into her, your mouth moving to her other breast as your hand settled on her throat, squeezing gently. 

“Mh—feel so good, baby.” you muttered against her skin, slipping in a third finger when the first two began to move within her too easily. 

“Mph, please y/n, harder!” she cried as she felt her cunt streatch deliciously around your fingers, her nails digging painfully into your back and scalp as your digits slammed into her walls, “Yes! God, yes— Just like that—Ah!”

You tightened your grip on her throat a bit as you sat up, groaning at the sight of her cunt taking your fingers so deep that your wedding ring disappeared when you were fully inside of her, the titanium band coming out glistening with her arousal. Her cunt clenched around her fingers, her thighs tightening around your hand as she neared her climax but, just before she could fall over the edge, you pulled away. Jane went to complain, but the way your hand squeezed her throat in warning made her go silent. You licked your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of her on your skin. 

“Relax, baby. You’ll get what you want.” you assured, reaching into the drawer of your nightstand and retrieving your harness and favourite strap, “You’ve just gotta be patient.”

Jane bit her lip as she watched you attach the strap to your body. The black, 8-inch was not the largest she’d taken from you, but it was most certainly the thickest. She released a sound between a whine and a groan as you teased her with the tip, nearly screaming when you began to force it into her, your hand coming back to her throat. The silicone cock stretched her cunt to the point where Jane felt as if she was being split in two and she loved it, her body tightening as a searing heat spread through her as you buried the strap up to the hilt inside her, beads of sweat making Jane’s skin glisten. Once she gave you the go-ahead you set a harsh, ruthless pace, hard, deep strokes filling her cunt so well it was a wonder she didn’t cum right then. Your grunts and Jane’s screams filled the room and it was moments like this that you were especially grateful your house was in the middle of nowhere. No one but yourselves and the animals could hear you.

“Miss you so much, my lady,” you grunted as you thrust into her, one hand still on her throat, the other harshly gripping her hip, “Missed having your pretty little cunt stretched out around my cock—Fuck, baby, I missed you—!”

“M-missed you, t-too!” Jane stampered, her hands moving to your hips to help guide your thrusts, “Missed your touch—! M-missed you in me—Shit, y/n, please make me cum!! Wanna cum so bad—!”

“I know, baby. Just hold on a bit longer. You’re doing so well for me—” you praised as her hands moved from her hips, one grasping at the bedsheet, the other wrapping around your wrist. The black diamond on her wedding ring glinted in the light as her body jolted with each of your thrusts.

“Mmmh—Fuck, y/n! Please—please, keep going! ‘M so close—Shit, y/n! I-I’m—I’m gonna cum— pleasepleaseplease!”

“Just hold on a bit longer, baby.” you said, slowing down your movements just a bit and making Jane practically cry, “Just a bit more, my lady. You’re almost there.”

You removed your hand from her hip, sliding it down between her legs to rub gentle circles over her clit. Her whole body contracted with the added pleasure, shaking in desperate need of release.

“Y/N—!!”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

“F-f-f-FUCK—!” Jane finished with a loud scream, legs tightening around your hips, back arching off the bed. Stars exploded behind her eyes and, for a moment, she couldn’t see. Her body felt as if she were floating as she relaxed back into the mattress, brain fuzzy and her mouth numb, her throat already burning from screaming so much. You slowed down as she rode out her high, stopping completely and taking a moment to admire just how ethereal she looked like this, skin flushed and slick with sweat, her head thrown back in euphoria, eyes scrunched tight and jaw slack. Slowly so as not to jostle or startle her, you reached out and cupped her face, gently stroking your thumb against her cheek.

“You did such a good job, baby.” you praised, releasing her throat as her eyes opened, unfocused and her pupils blown out, “Come on back to me, my lady. That’s it. I’m gonna pull out now, okay?”

Jane mumbled out a hoarse, “okay” and you slowly pulled out of her, the strap coated in her release. You removed the toy from your body and threw it on top of your clothes to be cleaned later, bending over and placing gentle licks and kisses over her bruising neck as you moved to position yourself on her thigh. 

“My turn.” you husked, lowering yourself onto her thigh, “You just lay back and relax, baby.”

Jane sighed when she felt your slick core against her skin, whimpering a little as you began to rock yourself against her. Watching her unravel beneath you had made you so pent up that it didn’t take you long until you were nearing an orgasm, your breath laboured and thighs shaking.

“Mm, you feel so good against me,” you groaned in her ear, leaning forward and changing her head with your arm, practically laying on top of her as you rutted against her thigh, “So perfect. And all mine.” 

Jane whined, nodding frantically, heavy arms reaching up to wrap around your shoulders. WIth a final snap of your hips, you came, smearing your slick across her skin and you moaned against her shoulder. Sighing, you sat up and kissed her, your fingers dancing over her stomach. 

“Think you can take one more, my lady?” you asked gently, your tone making it clear that she had the choice of saying no, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Jane nodded and you smiled, kissing her again as you slid down her body, levelling your face with her soaked cunt. You licked a broad stripe up her slit, placing a gentle kiss to her clit, making Jane shudder. Smiling, you licked at her folds, slowly forcing your tongue deeper inside of her, your nose brushing against her bundle of nerves. Jane whimpered above you, hands threading into your hair to keep you in place. Still recovering from her past orgasm, it didn’t take you long to bring her to the edge again.

“P-please, y/n—” Jane muttered, tears slipping down her cheeks from the overwhelming pleasure, “uh-ah! I’m-I’m gonna—!”

“Go ahead, baby.” you whispered, plunging your tongue deep inside her. 

Jane came again with a shuddering moan, her release flooding your mouth and spilling down your chin. You lapped away at her release, cleaning her cunt with your tongue before moving up to kiss her again, sliding your tongue into her mouth so that she could taste herself on you. 

Pulling away, you climbed off of her, grabbed the strap, and padded off to the bathroom, cleaning yourself and the toy before returning with a warm washcloth, gently cleaning her thighs and burning folds. Taking the cloth and both of your clothes you set them in the hamper, handing her the water bottle on your nightstand as you set off all the lights except for your lamp. Once she’d drunk enough you helped her beneath the covers and crawled into bed beside her, covering her body with your own.

“Happy anniversary, Jane.” you muttered, kissing the back of her head. 

Jane hummed, releasing a large sigh before exhaustion overtook her and fell asleep. You smiled down at your wife, reaching behind you to shut off the lamp, welcoming the darkness as your eyes fluttered closed.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Growing

Author's note: Zadakiel's next chapter.

Past =-= Next

Warnings: Implied Astartes and Human relations. Talks about how to deal with bullies. The advise comes from an Astartes soo... Yeah. Not anything else I can think of? Let me know if I need to add anything...

Summary: Zadakael has to allow his tiny Bonded to go to this thing called 'pre-school' and is totally N O R M A L about it.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

“Lovely and perfect,” Zadakael continues to croon a lullaby in High Gothic as he gently rocks his tiny bonded asleep. 

His bonded human’s parents had met him, and had a friend who had an Astartes to help translate what was going on. They had been understandably, been a bit uncertain when they’d first heard that he’d bonded to their darling, fragile, tiny child. 

But he had slowly started to prove himself to them, and was wonderful with their daughter. Who was usually wonderfully and well behaved around him. If they were unable to get her to sleep, his gentle hold on her and his crooning singing would put her to sleep faster than anything else could or would.

The new parents were grateful to have an extra set of hands that didn’t need as much sleep. Granted, he had his own schedule that he followed for his duties as a Space Marine who ended up on Ancient Terra. He’s grateful that his new Captain was understanding and allowed him to bond with his new human. And that his hours of duty shift and training were changed around so that he could help his human’s family tend to his almost an infant Bonded.

At first he had been terrified to touch his precious Bonded. For they were so young and fragile, and his hands were covered in the blood of so many. He had learned gentleness when he learned artistic pursuits and he still continued to indulge in his hobbies.

Although part of him snapped and snarled and hissed when his precious, tiny bonded was in the arms of her parents he didn’t stop them from doing so. Sternly reminding himself that their family is also important for their growth and development. He’d researched all he could on Good Child Rearing Practices as well as taken lay-classes for child rearing and what not.

That had also eased the worries of his Bonded’s family when they saw how serious he took his duties towards his bonded. He’d been taking classes for the primary language that his humans spoke at home, which was different from the one that was the dominant language of the area. So he was easily learning languages at once to ensure that he’d be able to help his tiny human learn to speak multiple languages.

Spanish, he learned, was the name of the language that their family spoke, while English was the language that was spoken by the baseline humans in the area that he had landed in. His tiny human had several older siblings who thought he was Super Cool.Some of their elderly relatives seem to be more uncertain of him, which was fine.

Being with his tiny bonded, and watching as they grow and their personality take shape fills his hearts with a warmth that has a bitter sting to it as well. One of the things he finds out to his utter dismay is how fast his tiny Bonded is growing. 

It’s something that his Tiny Bonded’s parents commiserate with him over. As they grow, they are taken to ‘pre-school’. Which he grumbles over, he could teach them far more about how the Galaxy truly works than the so-called educators could. He’s seen what sort of homework their older siblings have and he’s unimpressed with how basic and sometimes outright false the information they have to learn is. Although, their literature and arts education is interesting and he can go down rabbit holes seeking more Ancient Terran knowledge about such things.

Still, his human’s parents insisted it would be good for their development to have time away from the house and them. With children her age (there are a few of his fellow Space Marines with Bonded around that age, or with Bonded who have children around that age). He’s pointed that out, and while they do have play dates with. 

But apparently that’s not enough. While both parents are able to work, Zadakael is happy to watch over the children and give guidance and a portion of his pay to help the household. The parents have deemed going to ‘pre-school’ to be important to their development.

He gently holds his tiny Bonded’s hand and walks with them to the pre-school, it’s fairly close to where his human’s family lives. And his tiny Bonded hand clung to him and had been Tearful about paring with him.

He would only admit to himself that he was equally reluctant to part with her. It had taken one of the Salamanders who worked there (with their Bonded Human as one the pre-school teachers) coming out to help calm the Tiny human (and only the tiny human. He wasn’t growling at anyone.) 

Stop judging him To’val! And no, he didn’t linger and watch his tiny bonded for the rest of the day. That would be ridiculous and were blatantly false accusations! He had certainly not needed to be dragged away by an exasperated Ultramarine to go tend to his duties that day. Zariel- stop making that face at him. Judgy Ultramarine bastard.

His tiny Bonded hadn’t wanted to leave his side to go to some stupid Pre-school. But that had been one first few days, they had grown to enjoy pre-school. Happily babbling to him and their siblings and parents about what they learned, and did, and about their friends that they played with on this and that day.

Sure, he occasionally heard of the childish squabbles, but he let his tiny Bonded know that they should Stand Their Ground and that if someone tried to bully them to punch them in the face. That would get them to stop that nonsense. And if someone tried to get them into trouble for it he would talk to the teachers about it.

The parents had been partly scolding, partly playful in their exasperation about what he’d said about defending oneself and one’s friends from bullies. But he was entirely serious about it. Bullying wasn’t something that was tolerated, and it could cause friction and Chaos if allowed to fester. Resentments, hurt feelings, and all sorts of nastiness if not dealt with promptly and with a proportional response.

Some of the children are other Blood Angels and their successor Chapter’s bonded human’s children. He pretends that he doesn’t see how some of the children look like a perfect blend of the human and Astartes's. Especially the children who are male presenting, having bright blond hair and red in their eyes.

[needleanddead]

I hope you're prepared for a few questions packed all in one ask then! *cracks knuckles*

I've actually just discovered Lucas a few days ago, and whenever I find something/someone I'm interested in, I consume every piece of information available, same with all your amazing Lucas asks and fics. I'm a sucker for horrible people being all lovey-dovey in their own sick way. So!

What does Lucas do with his darling's belongings? You once said, if I remember correctly, that he throws them away because he doesn't want them to have any ties to their old life. But does he look through their stuff? Their backpack? And does he keep some things? Like maybe medication, hygiene products, makeup (because asking Lucas to buy makeup for his darling would be disastrous, I feel like. He would not know which products in what shades to buy), clothes, or just things he knows they'll be happy to have back? For example: I have a stuffed animal that I cannot sleep without, so would he throw it away too or maybe even get it back if I asked him nicely for it? Or would he just get me a new one? (Which would make me cry, btw.)

Does Lucas allow his darling to go to the bathroom alone at night? This goes for both when he still sleeps on the couch in the beginning but also when he sleeps with them in bed after a while. Does he want them to wake him up each time? I bet this is one of those privileges he grants over time, once they gain his trust.

I've read in an answer to an ask that Lucas is in his forties, and so I'm wondering: does he treat his darling differently based on how old they are? Is he more prone to playing a caretaker when they're like, what, 15-20 years younger than him? Also, does it bother him in any way when his darling is literally old enough to be his child - maybe early to mid 20s - or is it something he doesn't even think about?

One of the asks you answered a few hours ago intrigued me as well, so I just wanna explore it a bit. (This part is NSFW, just FYI!) How is the first time being intimate with Lucas? Is it more unrestrained, since he's wanted them since the moment he saw them, or is he overwhelmingly gentle? Especially with a more nervous darling, all sniffling and nervous because they just see him as a ruthless killer still, not wanting him to touch them, but they don't really have a choice in the matter. Would he just shush them and take from them what he wants, or would the focus be on them entirely, just him wanting to make them feel good? Make them feel safe and like they can - and *should* - trust him? I wonder how that would play out, especially when his darling is trying to push him away.

Okay, wow, this is probably the longest ask I've ever sent! Have fun with it and I'm looking forward to your answers. (:

Ah anon, sitting down to answer this with a cup of tea and thinking very hard . . . like all characters, Lucas shifts around a bit and some of my older posts may be outdated (sometimes the character tells me differently to what I have always believed of them!), but I will answer as best I can!

He does, usually, get rid of darling's belongings. For one thing, he can't risk them having things like phones or wallets in their possession (phones get taken to the edge of the woods and smashed up, he's paranoid of trackers!). ID cards get cut up, other identifying things get thrown in wells, scattered through the woods as far away from Lucas's cabin as possible. So yes, he looks through their stuff too! He might keep a FEW things, if they look particularly sentimental (a bear? Perhaps. Sometimes underwear or pyjamas or clothing, if he's not sure yet if he has things that will fit them - and if not, he'll keep them for the wardrobe anyway). These things he does keep won't get given to them right away, though; like all things, they have to prove that they deserve them! Earn them back. He probably WOULD keep medication for them (he's not foolish enough not to realise what it is), but makeup . . . no, that probably goes. If they come with him willingly, actually, once he's slaughtered everyone they're with, he might just let them bring the whole bag once he's checked it through for the most dangerous items (weapons, ID, etc)!

No. They're expected to wake him up. Chances are, if he's sleeping on the couch, he hasn't actually fallen asleep anyway - he's used to every little noise in the cabin, and he's excited about having his darling under his roof - even if they think that they're being quiet, they probably end up seeing a shape in the hallway and a voice rumbling out to ask what they're doing and to reassure them that he's there to help. You're right in that it's one of the privileges that get granted over time; a few months in, once they've proved that they can be trusted, he might get woken up by darling saying they need the bathroom and instead of getting up he just smiles sleepily and tells them to hurry on back to bed afterwards, then.

Honestly, he doesn't really think about his darling's age! A younger darling who says something he doesn't understand might get a fond and exasperated "kids these days" kind of response, but other than that . . . He would put himself into the caretaker role even if his darling is older than him (and yes! He's forty eight!). It's not about age to him, but about how . . . helpless they are. How much they need him. If they are a lot younger, it doesn't bother him; he doesn't think about them being young enough to be his own child, but more he thinks that they haven't had enough time in the world to be truly corrupted by it.

He tries, very, very hard not to hurt his darling and not to let his desires get the better of him when the time does come that he can't hold himself back. He's aware that he's big and strong, and often his darling is smaller and softer - it's easier, actually, if darling is sniffling and whimpering and begging, than if they fight back. He reassures them with kisses and soft murmurs and asks them not to cry (the feel of his hardness against their thigh, twitching when they take a great sob, proves that actually he really doesn't mind the crying). He tries to take his time; work them open slowly, make sure that they're ready to take him. Tries to make sure that they get to come too - but when it comes down to it, when he's actually inside, he can lose himself just a little too easily in how it feels and might bruise or be a bit too enthusiastic. He's always terribly sorry about it afterwards, kissing and soothing them - and he promises that they won't have to get up in the morning and he'll make the breakfast. As long as they're not outright screaming and clawing, he'll accept a little bit of tearful whimpering - it's a big thing, after all, sleeping with someone you love for the first time!

[talesaboardthehive]

THE “OFFICIAL” H.I.V.E. REFERENCES MASTERPOST:

(disclaimer: keep in mind, the HIVE lore is very loose and honestly a bit cobbled together. it started as a very simple running joke, and i want to maintain aspects of that even as i tell a bit of a story behind it o7)

[Loading . . .]

[Welcome aboard the H.I.V.E. Would you like to access the references files?]

[. . .]

[Access granted. Please proceed below.]

CAPTAIN NEY (H0237) - (reference is in chibi form, to be updated… eventually)

Captain of the HIVE and first in command. Answers crewmate reports. The captain’s quarters are always locked, neither crew nor their closest associates have ever apparently been allowed inside. Once the captain retires for the night they cannot be contacted until morning, even by Leander and COLONY, though neither seem invested in trying. No explanation has ever been offered.

The Captain has the ability to use [INQUIRIES] to the ship which allow them to navigate even when the halls change — they often help locate lost crew who send them distress signals.

The Captain is the only member of the HIVE with a blank number patch and a picture on the HIVE patch — meant to complete the opposite set on crew uniforms.

LEANDER CARMINE (M9525) - Head of HIVE Medical Bay and Research

Often seen milling about the HIVE in idle hours, usually helping with minor emergencies. Very easygoing, he seems to be quite content in basically any situation to the point he’ll patiently listen to even the most ridiculous of stories without questioning them. Unlike both the Captain and COLONY, he doesn’t appear to have a method of actually directing the ship’s changing hallways — but he never seems confused when they do, as if he always knows where he’s going. One of the first members of the crew.

Sometimes called Carmine, or Lee by those more familiar with him. Does not answer to the title “Doctor”, do not try. He ignores you.

COLONY (no number taken) - Robotic Head of HIVE Defense (officially, but admittedly does a lot more than that.)

COLONY is notorious for being the strictest and most difficult to approach of the main trio. A stickler for the rules, which would be fine if they didn’t seem to both change often and be flippantly dismissed by the Captain themselves. Connected to the ship itself, COLONY is fully capable of both predicting and directing the changes, but he doesn’t do it often unless he has a destination in mind. That said, while he is far less patient and not likely to help just for the sake of it, if presented with a coherent and reasonable argument he can be convinced. One of the first members of the crew alongside Leander. The Captain calls him COL.

Does actually possess a sense of humor, he just isn’t as upfront about what he finds funny.

THE CREW - (reference is also in chibi form! To be updated later.)

The grey uniforms were first made by Leander, and since then have been given to all who come aboard and decide to stay. Crew are given four-digit numbers of their choice to use as identifiers, and are permitted to wear any accessories they want as long as the main uniform remains the same — so if you want to be a part of the crew, all you need is the uniform.

(this is a placeholder for any and all crew aboard the ship outside the primary trio. this is also used as a general character placeholder for anons, and nondescript crew in animatics!)

Taken Numbers (in no particular order):

H0237 (captain’s number—that’s me ^^), M9525 (Leander Carmine), CR0069, CR4812, CR1015, CR[redacted], CR1454, CR0416, CR1242, CR1243, CR0505, CR2486, CR0225, CR1234, CR0428, CR0001, CR0003, CR0383, CR0973, CR8008, CR0666, CR1335, CR0049 (listed as BR0049 in the mostly non-canon (but absolutely incredible) HIVE comics by untitled bear!)CR0282, CR0722, CR2127, CR3333, CR2868, CR5469, CR0323, CR7320, CR0828, CR1341, CR0774, CR0703, CR1730, CR4848, CR6264, CR6548, CR4698, CR6842, CR7903,]

(IF YOUR CREWMATE NUMBER IS LISTED, YOU AND YOUR REPORTS ARE STILL ABOARD THE HIVE!)

(you’re on the ship, you’re vibing, whatever happened happened. (so the hell mushrooms, the space suits, those things are all still canon. the only reports i’ll reblog here though are ones that are DIRECTLY MAIN STORY relevant. don’t worry, the others absolutely still happened.)

ABOUT THE SHIP ITSELF:

The HIVE is a strange vessel, drifting through space with an undefined purpose beyond general exploration and sometimes various deliveries. Though typically harmless if not a little surprising, the hallways and doors occasionally do not lead where they’re supposed to — one might find themselves in the cafeteria when they meant to go to the deck, for example, or in the training room instead of the garden. Strangely, this only seems to happen in low-stress situations; perhaps the ship only finds it funny when the pranks won’t cause harm. Usually.

(at a meta level, the layout of the HIVE is purposefully left very vague to encourage interpretations. if there ever comes a time where there is an actual design for it, it’ll be placed here. in the meantime, we run on the spirit of improvisation. it’s like a video game, only we’re writing it in real time while the story plays in the background.)

TALES ABOARD THE HIVE TAG NAVIGATION GUIDE:

canon crewmate reports - canon submitted reports that either did happen or directly impacted the canon story. submitted by outside influences, like anons or other users.

canon HIVE adventures - interactive games/stories, usually involving polls that lead to different endings. experimental category, but a fun one.

canon HIVE art - comics, drawings, animatics, or anything else of the sort drawn or “canonized” by me. not everything i draw is canon, especially since the captain is also my sona character, so stuff that actually matters story-wise goes here ;;

canon tales aboard the HIVE - text-based stories and snippets written with no interactive elements, like one-shots.

[frostfall-matches]

[ matchmaking... ]

@ anon (☎️) : [ match report ready ]

your match is…

✦ Jamil Viper

You catch his eye because you’re considerate and supportive with your friends, but you’re so smart and level-headed at the same time (he spent a lot of time observing you before the two of you were interacting regularly). In his snap judgments, he often considers people who are too kind or sweet to be rather naive (and yes, he very much associates kindness with naivety because of Kalim), even though logically he knows that isn’t always the case. So meeting you and seeing that you’re actually quite analytical and meticulous on top of it all is a breath of fresh air for him, considering he spends so much of his time around Kalim. Those traits of yours are among the first he comes to admire.

Jamil deeply craves being recognized as his own person. Considering you’re the type to become quite invested in your friends’ lives, and that when you’re fond of someone you are loyal and supportive, he would finally feel seen and heard. Initially he isn’t really sure what to talk about when you ask him about his day, how he’s feeling, what he likes to do. In the beginning, he very often defaults to just talking about his duties to Kalim in a superficial way. But the closer you two get, the more comfortable he gets with you, the more he opens up about what makes him him - and ultimately you end up becoming his go-to person when he needs someone who will really listen.

Values your honesty, even if he’s not always very honest himself. Granted, a lot of it is out of habit for him. He’s so used to deflecting, omitting some of the truth, or telling white lies, all because he’s supposed to appear inferior and subservient to Kalim and his family. And because he’s a little jaded, he tends to assume that most people have some sort of ulterior motive when they interact with him, and thus he tends to be a little cautious about what he allows them to know. And yet, here you are, so consistently honest about almost everything. Plus - although he may not always appreciate this in the moment - it’s good that you’d be willing and able to tell him to knock his bullshit off (whatever bullshit that may be; the events of Book 4, him putting himself down to lift Kalim up, etc.).

Similarly, Jamil finds your willingness and ability to self-reflect on at least a semi-regular basis to be quite admirable. This goes without saying, but he’s spent so much of his life just dealing with whatever was on his plate and trying to find the time and space to be his own person - things have built up so much and he really hasn’t had much time to truly sit down and reflect on who he is, what he’s doing, what he wants to do, how his relationships with others impacts him and vice versa. It’d be good for him to be with someone who is willing to self-reflect and work on changing if needed.

Quality time is very important for him. He’s so busy with his vice-housewarden duties and with Kalim being his responsibility that he truly has to actively make time for a relationship. And you know he loves you when he makes time for you despite his terribly busy schedule - his time is precious, and he wants to focus on you. It’s the highlight of his day, really. And for some reason, he’s slightly taken aback by how physically affectionate you can be at first, but honestly? He totally melts into your hugs. He seems the type to be a little touch-starved; he’s just so guarded all the time and really hasn’t had much of a chance to let anyone in. On another note, he tends to lean pretty heavily into acts of service just because that’s what he’s used to. And while it feels like a chore with Kalim, he does genuinely enjoy helping you out or preparing your favorite foods or tea.

That being said, he will go out of his way to make your favorites sometimes! He’s good at cooking and he knows it; the motions of cooking are like second nature to him and he’s able to prepare meals very easily and efficiently. And yes, everyone always tells him how good his food is, but it’s that much more special coming from you.

Both of you can be rather prideful, though it may not be initially obvious to others. It’s in the way both of you carry yourselves, self-assured and rather confident, and yet you’re not going to boast about your skills and achievements. Not frequently, anyways. And if something hurts your pride? Chances are you’re both the type to just grin and bear it for the most part, though deep down you might be seething. Either way, it’s a point where both of you could relate to each other, and it makes for easier understanding if there’s conflict between you two.

The two of you also share a dislike for unhygienic and/or ignorant people. Absolutely irritating for both of you, LOL. That being said, at least you two won’t have to deal with those traits in each other. You two are smart, driven, and obviously prefer to keep yourselves and your environment clean and tidy. And sure, everyone is going to have their biases and no one knows everything, but Jamil would want someone who is willing to learn and not be afraid of tackling intellectually difficult concepts. He needs a good sounding board! He’s quick to think of others as intellectually inferior, so having someone around whose intelligence and opinion he respects is definitely a plus for him.

[missluckycharms]

What is grief, if not love persevering?

Anon asked: heyyy! i love your writing sm💕 can you write angst please? make it hurt☹

Masterlist.

Summary: in which Harry is a single Dad due to losing his wife five years ago just shortly after their little love was born. Y/N has been there through it all. Harry has a rough night filled with whiskey and tears for his late wife.

A/N: this one is full of Angst and light hearted jokes to not get you too sad … sorry in advance, it’s a real tear jerker. Enjoy!!

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, talks of alcohol and drug abuse, talks of depression and very low mental health, curse words.

—

Five years.

It’s been five years since the passing of Myla Styles, the woman who granted Harry a wish he always wanted, the woman who loved him beyond all the galaxies and the woman who never saw any wrong in anyone, not even the worst of people, she always used to say “deep down, their heart is just aching” and Harry always admired that about her, she always looked on the positive side of life.

She held that same attitude as he held her hand in the hospital room, her fragile and pale body laying on the white bed as she peered up at him, oxygen tube in her nostrils and too many machines to count hooked up to her body, she was a shell of a woman, but she still had a heart of gold, the same hear Harry fell in love with when they were sixteen years of age. He hated seeing her this way, especially when their nearly one week old baby was resting in his other arm, fast asleep as her Mum clung to every bit of life she had left, but not once did her smile fade.

It all happened so fast, one day she was pushing life into the world and eight days later her life was being taken out of this world. There was complications with birth, the doctors and nurses finding undiagnosed ovarian cancer in her ovaries when they had to send her in for an emergency c section. Myla confessed she felt off, her body didn’t feel right, but she knew if something was seriously wrong, she wouldn’t risk the life of her baby getting treatment, she would rather her baby live over her. Doctors and nurses tried their best, trying to refer her to new hospitals to get stronger chemo if she wanted, but Myla refused, she told them to let her go, she was tired and she couldn’t stick around long enough to see if these treatments would work — she knew she was dying but Harry refused to believe it.

The day she left, was the day Harry felt like his whole world stopped, like the curtains were shut and he was left in a dark room with no way out. He promised Myla he would do his best to take care of their love, who they named Honey. He was dealing with the loss, Honey taking his mind off it a little and giving him reasons to pull himself from bed even on the days when he wanted to lay around and wallow in his own darkness — she pulled him out of those days, but two months later it all came crashing down on top of him.

He slipped into a wrong mind set, immediately knowing that Honey had to be taken away from him because he was living in fear he would hurt her, one day he woke up and he looked at her and just cried, he held her and he felt nothing, he didn’t even sympathise with her when she would cry for food, he felt nothing towards Honey and this scared him, terribly. Anne, his Mum took Honey in, letting Harry to relax and blow off some steam and get some help, his and Myla’s family all agreeing and saying he needed help and it wasn’t something to be ashamed about — he just lost his wife, they can’t lose him either.

Harry took the wrong route of clearing his mind and getting help, he found his therapy at the end of a bottle and a line of cocaine. He slipped into an endless spiral of week long benders and debts for drug money along with risking losing his home due to him quitting his high up job at his Fathers Law firm, he completely crashed and burned, he couldn’t live without her, he couldn’t stop his mind racing and the only way for it all to stop, and let him feel numb — was when he was drunk and high, passing out in every room of his home and in his garden, the neighbours finding him sometimes in their yard in a mess. They were the ones who got him help, they called up his family and they all rushed him off in an ambulance to get him sober and conscious again. Here is where he made the decision to sign himself into rehab, accepting the help the hospital offered and a few months later, he was out and clean, he stayed with his Mum until Honey turned one and that was the year Harry found his smile again, found his life and purpose again.

Looking back now, he doesn’t know how he ever made himself believe it was Honeys fault Myla was no longer here, he doesn’t know how he’s even alive because of all the drugs and alcohol he ingested every single night for three months solid, but he knows why everything turned around, it was his Angel looking down on him, guiding him and kicking him in the ass to get up and look after their little love, just like she asked him to do before she left, always look after himself and Honey.

It’s been five years since her passing, Harry is doing better than ever, he started working for his Dad’s company again and now he’s the president of the law firm, alongside his Dad who is the CEO, Harry being second in command and then being the CEO when his Dad retires from the firm. They kept their family home, even if it was just the two of them, they loved the home and it still felt like Myla was living here, her makeup still tucked away in her unused vanity in Harrys bedroom and her favourite paintings still hung up around the home. Harry even hired a nanny, she has been working for him for two years now, she’s even working alongside Harry in his office being his receptionist during the day and she’s Honeys afternoon and night nanny when she’s done in work and Honey is home from school.

Y/N is Honeys nanny, she takes care of the little lady and feeds her daily, even taking her to the playground and to the movies when Honey asked her could she go. She would do anything for Honey and Honey loved her endlessly, she loved the way she would allow her to eat sneaky chocolate bars after dinner every now and then and how she would always play dollies with her, kneeling down on the floor of the den and playing with the small girl until they were both in fits of laughter. Harry also adored Y/N, her passion for her job at the law firm along with her passion for looking after Honey is something he admires, she never once complains about being exhausted even though he can tell when she is, she didn’t have to think twice when Harry offered her the job as Honeys nanny, she knew the little one from her being in the office every now and then, and Honey was instantly drawn to her, the way she was so kind and the way she cared for Honey.

Tonight is a hard night for Harry, it’s Myla’s death anniversary and he’s been having a bad day, his mind racing and his heart breaking all over again, but this time he’s stronger, he’s able to power through until he could be alone and just let his emotions go, have a glass of whiskey and just cry a little flipping through old photo albums — he does this every year on her anniversary. Honey is tucked up in bed and he’s sat alone in the den on the sofa, the photo albums on his lap and his hand clutching a small glass of whiskey as he sips on it flipping through many photos from their wedding and from when they were teens and drunk in love in high school — so many memories can be attached to one person, and Harry knew one day they would be memories, but he didn’t know it would be so soon.

“Honey is fast asleep, left her door cracked open so she can shout if she- Harry? Are you okay?” Y/N stops suddenly, her eyes landing on her boss who was hunched over a photo album on the sofa, curtains drawn and the only light coming from a lamp beside a framed wedding photo of him and Myla on the table by the sofa.

“Yeah, thanks for putting her to sleep” Harry says weakly, not turning around which alarms Y/N, she’s seen him like this last year, she let him be as she was only new to it, but this year she’s determined to sit with him all night if he needs — he needs to have some company.

“That’s you?” She asks sitting next to him, Harry not moving or telling her to leave, he accepts her company as she looks down at the photo his eyes are laid upon — two teenagers at a party.

“Yeah, m’hair was a curly mess” he says with a low laugh, looking over the photo of a seventeen year old version of himself, smiling cheekily clutching a red solo cup and Myla wrapped under his other arm holding him around his waist, both their smiles wide and cheeky and their cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in their bodies.

“I think it looks cute, pitty it’s not as curly now” she says with a light laugh, watching as his ring clad fingers turn the page, taking a sip from his whiskey as he goes.

“This was our prom, she made me wear a pink fucking bow tie — absolutely hated it” he laughs, the crinkles by his eyes evident as Y/N laughs along, looking down at the curly headed teenager in a black suit, white shirt and a bright pink bow tie, matching Myla’s floor length dress next to him, a shawl over her shoulders matching as the corsage around her wrist match the pink of her dress also.

“She hated that dress a year later, she was packing up for college and I was helping her when she found it, immediately burst out laughing” he says laughing loudly, remembering back at the memory he has, Y/N beside him happy at how joyful he sounds speaking of the memories.

“Oh here we go, Frat boy Harry!” Y/N says with a loud laugh, pointing down at a shirtless twenty year old Harry, backwards cap on his head and “Myla’s Bitch!” Wrote on his stomach in paint, two beer bottles in his hands and Myla on his shoulders cheering with her hands up in a red bikini, matching his swimming trunks and baseball cap.

“Some of the best years of m’life, raging parties and no more curfews, we were two hormonal teens absolutely smitten for one another” he says shaking his head with a laugh, his eyes bright as he flicks them over the photos ranging from Harry dancing, Myla being pushed into the pool by him and Harry passed out with a mustache drawn on him with Myla next to him holding the marker with a bright smile mid laughter.

The book is filled with their college days, to their graduation day from college, their photo in their first apartment, Harry on his first day of work and Myla on hers. They took photos of small things, but at the time they meant the world to them, they were milestones in their lives and they never wanted to forget them. Harry is forever grateful that Myla had an obsession with photography, otherwise he wouldn’t have these to look back on and hopefully show Honey one day what her Mum was like, even if she’s drunk and half naked in some of them at college parties.

Harry and Y/N are in fits of laughter, tears falling from their faces as Harry explains every single memory behind each photo, one photo containing a memory of Myla at her bachelorette party, Harry coming out as a stripper and giving her a lap dance as she slaps his ass and throws money all over her husband — that one will definitely not be shown to Honey. Harry is like a whole different person when he speaks about her, his laugh becomes louder and his eyes become brighter, he even ditched his whiskey after one glass to speak about his late wife, Y/N looking at him with pure amazement and proudness of how far he’s come, how he pulled himself from a hard time and carried on life for the sake of his baby girl. He’s truly inspirational in her eyes.

“It should be easier than this by now, right? Like I shouldn’t be still grieving” he says when their laughs and stories come to a stop, their eyes hooded with sleep and faces hurting from laughing.

“What is grief, if not love persevering? You were both childhood sweethearts, you’ve loved her since you can remember and you always will, she’s your whole world, of course you’ll still grieve her, you still love her, and that’s okay” Y/N blurts out, her words quick as she blabs on while Harry watches her, a smile on his face as she explains and accepts his feelings.

“Never knew you were Shakespeare” is all he says, she rolls her eyes laughing, slapping his bicep a little as he shuts the album, tucking it away in the drawer again before turning his focus back onto Y/N beside him.

“Seriously though, never tell yourself you’ve been grieving for too long, it’s okay to grieve and cry yourself to sleep some nights, I get that, I do. You lost a person who made you who you are, but don’t forget, you still have a little one that will need you to be the person who makes her who she is”

Harry thinks she’s amazing, she’s smart and she’s so empathetic towards everyone and anyone. She has a heart of gold and she will never let anyone explain hers or anyone else’s feelings for them, she always allows people to express who they are, heck, one night she brought Harry to a gym after hours, explaining how her brother is a trainer there and he gave her the keys on the condition that she does his laundry for a month, she let Harry rage out and punch the shit out of a punching bag one night because he was so upset. She cheered him on and he was smiling as he was punching towards the end, she helped him release the emotions that built up and would of lead him back down a dark path.

She’s been an Angel sent from above, he knows Myla sent her to him because of how much they’re alike, Harry knows for sure they were sisters in a past life, their kind hearts and understanding natures alike but they have their differences, Myla was very out spoken and loved to party but Y/N is reserved and would rather stay inside with a hot chocolate and her crosswords while watching TV, but that’s another thing that Harry finds fascinating about her, she’s younger than him by eight years, when he was her age he was partying.

“Thank you Y/N, I needed this tonight” he says with a smile, her own smile on her face as she nods leaning over to rub her hand over his in a comforting manner, the pair looking at one another as they soak in their presences.

“It’s getting late, I should go” she says realising it’s nearly midnight, Harry and her need to be in work tomorrow morning and Harry has to wake up to get his little lady ready for school also. He gets a bit saddened when she says this, he secretly wants to hear more of her own college years and her own prom much like he told her earlier.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow” he says with a smile, watching as she gathers up her bag and throws it over her shoulder, car keys now in her hand as she smiles at him once more before heading for the den door. She pauses and looks back at him, his eyes meeting hers as they hold contact for a few seconds before she speaks up.

“See you tomorrow, Harry”

[sserpente]

A/N: Requests from three anons. Naughty, naughtier, naughtiest. Enjoy, everyone!

Words: 2426 Warnings: shameless Christmas smut

Additional NSFW warnings: dom!Loki, usage of anal sex toy, orgasm control, forced orgasm(s)

-

Feeling all warm and fuzzy, you snuggled in closer to your mischievous boyfriend. After three weeks of persistent persuasion, you had finally talked Loki into watching Christmas movies with you and to be quite frank, you were convinced he secretly enjoyed them.

A comedy was on tonight, of a young couple suffering from the usual pre-Christmas stress including eccentric in-laws and turkeys burnt to a cinder. You had been giggling throughout, knowing very well it was a rather accurate representation of how chaotic Christmas could be. In fact, you could hardly wait for this year, given it would be Loki’s and your first time celebrating it together as a couple.

“I recall you telling me that those sex scenes in films are staged unless you watch a… what was it?”

“Porn movie?”

“Yes. I must admit, she is terrible at staging it.” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“She is doing it on purpose. She is faking her orgasm.” You explained, staring at the screen. The male protagonist was wearing a Santa hat and a fake white beard—nothing else. He had surprised his girlfriend who had just gotten home from a long and exhausting day at work and even though she appreciated it, she was just too tired for sex.

“Why in the nine would she do that? That is rather pathetic for the male part.”

You blushed. You too had faked your orgasms sometimes when you were in bed with Loki.

“Um… well… she doesn’t want to hurt his feelings. You know women take longer to get there and sometimes… they’re just too tired or not in the right mind set.” You yawned. “Much like today.” You added.

Loki paused the movie with but a wave of his hand and turned to face, looking you dead in the eye. “Are you implying something?” Oh, shit… you had a feeling this would bruise his godly ego.

“I… I-I only did it a few times. Once or twice. Okay, maybe a little bit more often than that. B-but that doesn’t mean I don’t ever—“

“You are what?” He bellowed. There we go.

“Loki! Listen to me, you are the most mind-blowing lover I’ve ever had. It’s like I just said, sometimes I’m too tired or have so much going on at work that I can’t let go… it’s got nothing to do with you!” You insisted.

“That is unacceptable.” He said after an uncomfortable break.

“W-what does that mean?”

Loki gave you a meaningful look. His tone was downright spiteful when he spoke again. “Let’s just finish the movie, shall we?”

You were a little surprised he let you cuddle with him again but you couldn’t focus on the film anymore anyway.

“Are you… mad at me?” You chirped after a while, your cheek against his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.

“No. I am not.” You were not convinced. He was up to something.

-

The next morning started all but merry. You woke Loki with a few wet kisses, quietly singing O Christmas Tree to elicit a response.

Loki groaned, a smile playing on his lips. He didn’t need a lot of sleep but he truly didn’t like being woken up by anyone but his own body when it deemed him rested enough.

You giggled, his raven hair tickling your skin. You barely made it out of bed to open the very last door of your advent calendar and then moved to get dressed. As usual, Loki was a lot faster, simply magicking clothes onto his body without so much as blinking.

You were late. The Avengers were probably already waiting for you in the living room where Tony had put up a massive Christmas tree. And massive it was—it stood almost twenty feet high, about six metres, as far as you were concerned, and the billionaire had had to use his suit to hang up all the baubles and ornaments as well as the shining star on top. And before you had gone to sleep last night, you had sneaked your presents for everyone under the tree.

You bit your lower lip, hoping that Loki wasn’t still taken aback by your involuntary confession last night. You had meant what you had said. He was an amazing lover but sometimes… you just weren’t feeling it but still didn’t want to disappoint him or let him down. A sigh escaped your lips.

“Come on, Trickster, let’s see what Santa brought.”

“Hold up.” Loki said. “Turn around for me.”

You raised your eyebrows, not expecting anything out of the ordinary. So you did as you were told and gasped when he forced you to bend over so your upper body came to rest on the bed again, your backside in plain view for him to admire.

“Hey! Loki!” You giggled during your weak protest, then bit your lower lip. Did he want to… now? Hmm… Christmas morning sex. Your heartbeat sped up as you wiggled your behind a bit, arousal already pooling between your legs.

You heard him chuckle behind you but instead of his hard cock at your wet entrance, you suddenly felt something hard and cold press against your back entrance.

“L-Loki…” You had tried toys of the like before, especially right before sex and you had enjoyed it very much but now was definitely not the time. You were about to head downstairs to the Christmas tree, exchanging presents and having a hearty breakfast with the Avengers, there was no way you were going to…

You gasped when he slid the clearly lubed plug into your rear, and it went in with little resistance. Loki knew your body so well it almost scared you. That, and you were already soaking wet and responsive to your butthole being pampered in such a way.

“Hmm… are we enjoying ourselves?” Loki mused, smirking as he led you over to the mirror to let you admire his work. The plug was a little bigger than what you were using for sex but still oddly comfortable to wear. What stood out the most to you, however, was the fact it was golden, with a green jewel attached to it and decorating your buttocks. “You are positively dripping, my dear.”

You bit your lower lip once more, mouth all of a sudden completely dry.

“It looks hot and beautiful at the same time.” You admitted, meeting his blue eyes in the mirror.

“Consider it a Christmas gift.” He said with a wink. Your eyes widened when he slid your comfy trousers back on and turned to leave the room.

“Hang on there. What are you doing?”

Loki tilted his head, playing innocent. “I am meeting my brother and his silly friends for Christmas.”

“W-what… oh my goodness. This is about last night, isn’t it? You want revenge, is that right?”

Loki smirked. “I have no idea what you are talking about, my love. Now… let us head downstairs, shall we?” You only glared at him in response, tensing up when his hand wrapped around your arm and stopped you in the threshold. “You will regret it dearly if you secretly try to take this out before I allow you to do so.” He hissed into your ear. Your walls clenched. This was certainly going to be your most interesting Christmas yet.

-

You had been right indeed. Crouching down to get the presents out from under the tree proved extremely difficult wearing a butt plug—at least, it proved extremely difficult to not moan in front of everyone.

Loki’s smirk never faltered, not even when he received your present and thanked you with a passionate kiss right in front of the Avengers. If only they knew… you had no idea what else Loki had in store for you once the two of you were alone again.

Christmas dinner posed as equally difficult. Sitting calmly at the table, enjoying the delicious turkey and treats and conversing without wiggling around like a child was nearly impossible. For the first time ever, you were glad when the festivities were over and you could finally retreat to bed, hoping that Loki would fuck your brains out before you fell asleep tonight.

You stood in front of him, arms akimbo when his clothes melted off of his body and he threw back the covers of the bed to get comfortable when you returned from the bathroom.

“Are you serious? Loki!”

“Oh dear… I almost forgot.” He lied, once again smirking like a cat that got the cream. “Lie down, little minx. Tell me, are you aching?” He teased, chuckling darkly.

“No!” You spat sarcastically, unable to hide your amusement. “I have been horny all day, you tease!”

“Have you now?” He was grinning now. Your heart skipped a beat when he snapped his fingers and then pointed at the bed for you to lie down. At this point, you did not even want to pretend to resist and be bratty for a bit.

Eager for your release (and knowing fully well this was his vengeance) you climbed on the mattress and gaped up at him with anticipation. But Loki took his time. Slowly and while eyeing you like a wild predator he joined in bed, tugging at your clothes in the process.

“Take them off.” He growled. You were panting when you did as you were told, all until you were completely naked except for the butt plug still snugly inside of your rear. A squeal escaped your lips when he lunged at you with a start, grabbing your hips and pulling you into a lying position. His scrutinising and downright lustful gaze never left yours as he sneaked his hand between your legs, right where you wanted him the most and dipped a finger in your folds.

“My… you are gushing.” You bucked your hips up against him, too impatient to listen to him talk dirty like that but his hand was already travelling upwards again, fingertips ghosting over your skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. You gasped when he circled your left breast and played with your already hardening nipple until you were whimpering for him.

“Loki, please…” You begged, biting your lower lip to appear innocent. The God of Mischief chuckled.

“So desperate?” He uttered, fingers returning to your cunt. You shivered when his thumb ghosted over your clit, giving it a gentle stroke. You had been on edge all day it would not at all take you long to finally be granted your long-awaited relief, even less so when Loki buried two of his long fingers inside you without any forewarning, curling them to massage your g-spot and circling your impatient clit with his thumb. His fingers were magic. No, he was magic. If only the world knew what a skilled lover Loki was they would change their mind about him being a megalomaniac villain and shower him with affection and fanmerch instead.

Moaning, you threw your head back, meeting the thrusts of his digits by bucking your hips hungrily. Loki could tell you were close already. You were tightening around his fingers, your breathing so fast he feared you might lose consciousness.

A satisfied growl escaped his lips when you came, milking his fingers as endless waves of pleasure rolled over your body, making you moan his name. Only Loki did not stop once all the bliss slowly started to fade away, your clit complaining about the ongoing stimulation.

“Again. Now.” Loki growled.

“W-what?”

“I want another. How can I be sure you truly came, after all?” He mused. You groaned. So it was revenge after all. He knew exactly you had come.

“I d-did… w-what… I can’t… Loki… oh, fuck…” He knew you could. He knew your body could. Still fingering you relentlessly, he tossed you straight into another hot orgasm as his thumb returned to your clit. Your back arched, fingers digging into the bed sheets as you clenched rhythmically around his long digits. Heavens, it felt even more intense with the butt plug still snugly inside of you.

“L-Loki… stop… s-stop, please…” You breathed, unable to form a proper sentence.

“Oh no, my dear… you can give me one more. Just so I can be completely sure.” He replied hoarsely, knowing that you could take it and would react differently if you truly had enough. It was the mix of pleasure and your strong feelings for him that made your mind turn like a spinning wheel, unable to stop or escape the tornado of emotions and relentless bliss. So he kept going, tormenting your already overstimulated bundle of nerves until your toes curled.

“Don’t you ever dare fake an orgasm with me again.” He growled into your ear, his hot breath brushing against your skin. Pleasant shivers ran up and down your spine, yet you were unable to answer him. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and dug your nails into his back, pulling his upper body closer to yours to urge him on, his name leaving your lips like a prayer as he brought you to a third orgasm making you see stars.

Panting, it took you quite a while to come down from your high again as Loki helped you ride out your climax before finally removing his now slick fingers and licking them clean with relish. When he made no move to position himself between your legs and get some relief himself, you let your head fall back into the soft pillows, making Loki chuckle.

“No falling asleep just yet, my love. Let me remove the jewel from that lovely behind of yours first.” Your eyes fell shut nonetheless, an acknowledging sound the only form of communication you could still muster as you let Loki gently take out the plug. You would have drifted off to sleep there and then, without a blanket, if Loki didn’t scoop you up like a cherished bride and wrapped you under the covers before cradling you in his arms.

“I’m so sorry, Loki.” You muttered, eyes still shut tiredly.

“Whatever for?”

“I never meant to offend you when I faked, I just wanted you to have your fun even when I wasn’t in the mood.”

“I know. Don’t lie to me again. Ever. There is no point for me to take pleasure from you if I am unable to return the favour.”

You smiled. You really had the most amazing boyfriend in the world. Well… which was probably because he was in fact, not from this world. No Christmas present could ever compete.

-

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

[cevans-is-classic]

Counting Every Second

Anon Request: Hi could I ask for a Seb X F! reader where they’re dating and are facetime because he’s filming a movie somewhere and he just keeps smiling and staring at the screen on his phone and she’s like “What?” and he just says something cheesy like, “You’re just so beautiful.”

18+ only, please. No real warnings besides language.

Requests are Open.

Want more head on over to My Masterlist

or want Seb? Sebastian Stan Masterlist?

(Y'all are allowed to request more than just Seb lol but I'll deliver whatever you desire Darlings)

“You know you’re allowed to talk to me without eating, right?” He laughed as you chewed your cheese stick at him. “It’s cute and all — the chipmunk cheeks — but I’d like to hear your voice.” Another aggressive bite followed by slow chewing before you swallow and glare at him through the screen.

“It’s my lunch break, Stan, lemme lunch in peace.” This time an apple slice and Seb couldn’t help but laugh, watching you bite into the fruit piece as you stared him down.

He shook his head. “Yeah, you have a point. How’s work going? Home? How are the kids?” you raised a brow, pointing your next apple slice at him.

“If by kids you mean the roommates who no-one taught basic manners; they’re fine. Work is okay, everything would be a lot better if I got to see you without a lag.” He knew what you meant, his heart constricting as he remembered the look on your face the day before he left. Every time he leaves it gets a little harder no matter how supportive and understanding you’ve been from the moment you two met.

Time differences didn’t help the situation either.

“I know what you mean,” He sighs, watching you wipe your hands down. “A few more weeks than I’ll be able to wrap you in my arms, Honey.”

There was the faintest hint of a blush on your cheeks as you grabbed your water and drink, ignoring him. “Problem?”

You shake your head setting the bottle back down, “Wrap your arms around me — I swear you’re like a romance novel sometimes.”

“I could use the term ‘bodice ripping’ at some point if you’d like.”

Yet another flush in your cheeks followed by the screen lagging for a moment. Your image froze on a shot of you rolling your eyes, head tilted back and the angle was horrendous. But he couldn’t look away from it. He missed you beyond words right now. When your feed picked back up, you’d packed away the leftovers of your food and were leaning on the table, phone held up to give him a better view.

You were working from home at the moment, your computer lit up behind you, and the sweater you’d claimed covered the back of your chair. He hadn’t even realized you’d taken it right away once he had you’d raised your chin up at him as if daring him to take it back. He would never: he loved the way it looked wrapped on you, the arms of it dangling over your hands as you crowd next to him on the couch seeking warmth even as you bundle up in it.

“How’s filming?” You ask, waving a hand towards him as if you were granting him a turn to speak. If he were, to be honest, he’d rather you keep talking, letting him watch you move with your stories as if every word has to be bigger than the next. It was mesmerizing.

“It’s going okay,” He answers. “Nothing exciting has happened but we’re staying on schedule for once.” The conversation goes on, but he can’t seem to focus on the actual words you were saying. All he wants to do is listen to you talk, watch your hands move with every sentence, watch the way you lean back in your chair before remembering something and springing forward again.

How could he have gotten this lucky? Being allowed to wake up knowing you were thinking about him too, that when he came home you’d be there with a smile and a sarcastic comment that he would steal with a kiss.

“-Seb.” He blinked. You were staring at him, eyes furrowed, and he couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his face. You frown squirming in your chair, “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

God, that blush.

Your hands covered your face as you duck out of the screen and he could hear the faintest squeal before you came back into view and peek at him through your fingers, “What’s the matter?” He laughs.

“You can’t say stuff like that oh my God.” He loved that smile, the crooked tilt of it, the way your eyes crinkle, and the dusting of blush across your nose that makes him want to press his lips against it to feel the heat.

“That you’re beautiful?” He shrugs, “Okay how about gorgeous? Amazing? Ethereal? Which one do you want to stick with?”

“Stop-” You drag the word out, dropping your head into your arms and groaning and he can’t hold back the full-bodied laugh as you shake your head at him.

“Not a chance, Darling.” Another peek up, face red, and he could see you trying to fight a smile.

“You’re such a sap, Seb.” He sees your hand twitch almost reaching out for the screen before it falls flat back onto the table, “I miss you.”

He doesn’t hold his own hand back, lets his fingers trace the picture of you on his phone as if he could touch the curve of your jaw from another country, “Soon, Darling, I’ll be home.”

***

I do hope the anon who requested this enjoys it as do the rest of y'all. Stay safe this week!

[archerdaryl]

I’ll Be Delicate

The reader shows Daryl Dixon that there’s still peace to be found in this world with soft words and delicate fingers.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Word Count: 2.1k (approximately) Tags: sweet and soft with some humour n gloom, sfw Notes: Anon requested a simple hair braiding fic and I had to be extra and turn it into an entire comfort fic. I’m not sorry. 

@bakedcrispss​ @phoenixblack89​ @btsiguess-kpop​

Lanterns burnt low and the smell of sage and tobacco lingered in the air throughout the small but comfortable basement on the far side of Alexandria. In the middle of the room was a large sofa, plush with semi-clean clothes stacked up on one half while a sleepy Belgian Malinois lay on the other, still and complaisant. 

Daryl Dixon, on the other hand, sat at his makeshift desk by the window. In one hand, a sharp dagger, the other an arrow he had been cutting away at for the past hour. His skin was pink and freckled and his hair damp, freshly showered after a gruelling day outside of the walls that ended in blood and tears. 

Losing someone in the community was never easy. He almost felt he should have been thankful it wasn’t somebody he was particularly close to, but that shit hardly mattered since he and Rick had to go back and let the poor bastard’s wife know he wasn’t coming home. 

He couldn’t bring himself to think about it now that he was back within the safety of Alexandria, not with all he had waiting for him there. He didn’t think he could cope with where his mind would take him, so instead he took to working with his hands — carving and cutting until his mind emptied and he didn’t have to think at all.

Eventually the stairs creaked and Daryl glowered to himself, figuring it would be Carol checking in on him again. He loved her, she was his best friend, but sometimes she just did too much. When the inevitable knock on wood came, he looked up ready to grunt in acknowledgment. Instead, his features softened, his chest heaving with relief.

It was you.

The corners of your mouth quirked into a sweet smile as you stepped through the doorway. He noticed it didn’t reach your eyes and he reached out to you, taking your hand and gently pulling you closer to him where he could wrap a muscular arm around the back of your thighs and look up at you with those crystalline blues. 

You placed your arm around his shoulder, fingers immediately finding their way to the hair at the nape of his neck. You played with it absentmindedly, your sole focus on the man before you, eyes so full of curiosity and care. 

“Now how is it you’re cleaner than I am?” 

Daryl smirked in response and squeezed you lightly. You were certainly grubbier than he was, but he didn’t care one bit considering grubby was his default state. The old shirt you were wearing was torn at your midriff and it took him a moment to realise it was one of his. He pulled at the tear carefully, thankful only to find a graze rather than something worse.

“Yer back early.” He finally acknowledged.

You hummed in response, fingers now tenderly raking through the archer’s hair to reveal more of the gruff face you liked so much. You took in his features, tracing every scar and drawing together every freckle. 

“Mich’ radioed through. Hilltop had one too many people to spare anyway.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but didn’t question it. If Michonne wanted to grant him a little bit of peace after the day they’d had, who was he to say no? Besides, Hell itself would freeze over before he ever turned you away. 

“I like you like this.” You continued, “All soft and warm.”

“Yeah?”

A year or so ago he would have resented being called soft. It was a fighting word, something his idiot brother would use to provoke him into doing something reckless, but when it came from your lips it felt like he was being awarded a Purple Heart. 

Sure, you were talking about his shower fresh skin, but that didn't matter. You reminded him that he had been brave and let you in, that after years of being alone and afraid, he had earned the right to be soft. 

Pulling away from his grip, your hands came to your belt buckle. You unfastened it and slowly shimmied out of the dark blue jeans that were stained with speckles of old Walker blood. That old shirt of Daryl’s you’d been wearing, tucked in at the waist, fell free halfway down your thighs.

“Like a damn dress on you, girl.” 

You shot a playful scowl at him and sauntered towards the couch, moving the pile of clothes to another surface before collapsing onto the cushion with a grunt. Dog perked up and you scratched him behind the ears.

“Not like you to complain.” You sighed. 

Watching you like this, comfortable and free, Daryl felt something building in his chest. It wasn’t panic. Maybe it was fear? He wasn’t sure what it was, but he knew he wanted to wrap himself up in you like you were wrapped up in his shirt. Anything to keep you close so he never had to worry about you not coming home.

“Weren’t complainin’.”

It was your turn to reach out to him, coax him over from his attempts of escape. You may have been exhausted, but losing anyone from the community was a nasty reminder of how fragile this life really was. 

Daryl stood and mosied over. Dog was comfortable right where he was next to you, though Daryl wouldn’t try to get rid of him even if he wanted to. You shuffled up a bit, angling yourself against the inner corner before tugging on his forearm — a silent plea to give into you and just be. He spent so much of his time looking out for you, making sure you were okay that it also became a way of making himself feel better. You loved him for it, but you desperately wanted to take care of him too.

He finally sat. It was a start. You kept your fingers on his skin, your thumb caressing it gently and he turned his head to watch your hand at work. His eyes soon drifted to your legs. They were bruised but still strong and inviting. You pulled at him again and he finally met your gaze. 

“I’m right here.” You assured him, “I’m not going anywhere.”

But you could. That was what was tearing him apart.

Daryl eventually nodded and shuffled up, taking your legs and placing them over his lap so that you were practically sitting on him but not quite. He loved the weight of you, loved you dressed in nothing but one of his old band shirts so that he could flex his hand against the warmth of your thighs. You were his anchor, keeping him from spiralling just by being right there in your arms. 

With one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders, you used your free hand to trace the far side of his jaw with your thumb. He leaned into your touch and you sweetly kissed his shoulder before pulling him in closer to you, the hand behind his head now weaving into his hair again.

“Think Dog is getting jealous.”

A soft snort escaped him then, “I’d be jealous too.”

“Don’t need to be. You got me.”

He adjusted his position, allowing himself to lean into you a little bit more. You continued to play with his hair, twirling it between your fingers. The tension in his body slowly began to melt away, evident from the long exhale that drew from his lips. 

“Still don’ know how the fuck tha’ happened.”

And that was the truth. To this day Daryl had no idea what you saw in him. You could tell him to his face -- in fact you had -- and he’d still question it. He’d grown up believing he was no good but even if that were the case then, again, who the fuck was he to deny you? 

“The world works in mysterious ways Daryl Dixon.” A smirk tugged at your lips, “That and I had to make the first move.”

“Shuddup.” He retorted quickly, “Woulda’ done it eventually.”

It was your turn to laugh. Looking back on your journey together, it was honestly miraculous you’d ended up where you were at all. He was oblivious when it came to women and you weren’t exactly someone that was easy to pin down. Your affection for him snuck up on you, but once it hit you it did so with full force and you weren’t going to risk not knowing.

“I almost wish I’d waited now.”

“‘M glad ya’ didn’t.“ He confessed, squeezing your thigh with his calloused hand, “‘M glad you’re here.”

You pressed a kiss to his temple then wiggled, adjusting your position so that you could angle yourself against him comfortably. You could use both of your hands to play with his hair now. He didn’t even try to pretend he didn’t like it, because he did. He liked all of the attention you gave him. 

“So, how would you have done it?”

“Dunno. Don’ matter now.” His brow quirked as he glanced at you, “I kissed ya first. Don’ that count for somethin’?”

Well, there was that. It was one of few times Daryl had truly caught you off guard. You were pissed off about something, wouldn’t stop going on and on at him even though it wasn’t his fault. 

“In my defence, you kissed me to shut me up.”

“Worked didn’ it?”

“Haven’t gotten rid of me since.” 

Delicate fingers had taken a few thin strands of his hair, tucking them one behind the other aimlessly to form a subtle braid as you both reminisced. You sometimes couldn’t believe how long his hair had gotten, but you quite liked it. You never took too much off when he let you cut it. 

“Wouldn’t ever.” He mumbled shyly, “Ain’t gon’ get luckier than this.”

“Not sure I’d call it luck. Been through too damn much for the world not to pay it forward.” You truly believed your words as they spilled from your lips, “We deserve a bit of good. You deserve it.”

Whether he agreed or not, he wasn’t sure how to respond. If it were true, he had already gotten that little bit of good by finding you. He would be perfectly happy if that was all the good he ever got in this new world of blood and rot. He didn’t need anything more. He couldn’t help but wonder if you felt the same. 

You were partially preoccupied, braiding his hair gently piece by piece and savouring the sweet moment between you both. His hand caressed your thigh, traced circles with his fingers while you leaned into each other’s touch. It set your skin aflame, poked coals in the pit in your stomach, but you pushed that feeling down until when or if he pulled you in.

Truthfully, you didn’t think much about the future anymore. You couldn’t afford to. It put you on edge, made you panic and do stupid things. It was easier to live in the moment and appreciate what you had, and waking up to Daryl everyday was more than you ever expected to have when you were first taken in at Alexandria. Hell, you felt lucky to make a few friends after being on your own for so long. 

You sighed happily as you combed out the loose braid with your fingers and began again, taking thicker pieces of clean dark hair. He smelled like your shampoo which tickled you a little, but you didn’t complain. It wasn’t like he was going to seek out his own. Piece by piece, the braid grew and you could feel him relax further, the circles he was drawing on your thigh growing slower. You bet that if you turned to look, his eyes had closed. 

“The hell you doin’ girl?” He finally mumbled. 

He always called you that. The way he said it made it feel like there was supposed to be a my in front of it. Sometimes if you were being especially irritating he’d slip a lil in there as if that was supposed to deter you, but it never did.

“Shhh. Stay still.” The response came with a soft chuckle. 

As you finished another braid, you admired your work with a grin. His eyes flit open as if he knew you were up to something, brows soon furrowing as he looked at you. It wasn’t long until they relaxed, that smile of yours turning him into putty in your hands. 

“Do I wanna know?”

“Do you wanna know I’ve been braiding your hair for the last… however long.” Your words were dry, bordering on teasing, “No, probably not.”

That infamous scowl of his tugged at his grizzly features, though there was no bark to his bite. You cupped his face, gently coaxing it towards you. 

“This suits you.”

He thought you suited him too. 

[bbhyeoliskooks]

«❝ 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 ❞» - PT. TWO

Yeonjun was the one to break up with you, so why does he want you back now?

➸ check part one out here!

«────« ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Pairing: Yeonjun x Reader (female)

Genre: 335 cups of fluff and 3 cups of angst

Warnings: a bit suggestive maybe??? cursing, eating, cheesy cringe stuff hehe, ++ unedited so there may be a lot of mistakes !!

Song: I’ll Never Love This Way Again

(YUH OMG FINALLY I FINISHED THIS REQUEST IM SCREAMING OMG??? i’m so sorry that this took so long, i know a lot of people waited for it 😭😭 and for the anon who requested this bc there wasn’t a notif- keah accidentally deleted it 😭😭. ngl i would die for yeonjun in this. ANYWAY, i hope you enjoyyy~~ i rlly liked doing something like this and yes i have to mention the happiness it gave me at 1am when i finally finished it 😌💕)

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

As easy as it was to say compared to real life, Choi Yeonjun was a wreck. A horrible, horrible and you must’ve forget to say- horrible wreck! That is including the duration of time before and after the second time you left.

How he roused one morning to you no where in sight after a vicious night of going out was something he deeply regretted. He would do anything to go back to that day, of course. He wasn’t sure about how you were doing, but jeez did he want to see those bright glints in your eyes whenever you saw him again. To see you smiling like nothing was wrong or giggling when he finally made ticklish contact on those sensitive places or even how you’d frown before him due to his carelessness. His mind drew him back to the ungodly hour of 4am when you scolded him for the scar on his arm he didn’t seem to realize until later and the way you made sure nothing else on his body was hurt. Yeah anyone could tell that didn’t go very well considering he was a boy and you were a girl, but that wasn’t the point!

In simple terms, he missed you more than anyone he’s ever laid eyes upon and the plain truth was that. You weren’t easy to be shaken off his mind after that ordeal of getting you to himself for one, final night. It hurt him most to see the disgusted expression on your face as if you were staring straight at a pile of elephant poop on the ground, not wanting to do anything with it because it was useless and foul. He couldn’t possibly make it your fault too, which meant he shouldn’t have been surprised. Breaking your poor heart by insulting you and taking you for granted, everything was wrong with him for thinking this way!

Whether he liked it or not, his heart said differently about this matter.

Perhaps it was the way you looked that night- he could say- however, it was more than that. With your adoring, sparkling eyes that weren’t easy to miss and your stunning, contagious smile that caused ripples of happiness to fly across the room, he couldn’t blame anyone for falling in love with you. After all, he was a victim of it himself so there was no way he could’ve not in the end. All of those things were true especially, but taking in everything to account as well hanging out with you, your unique individual beauty meant nothing.

He just loved you for you. Loved? No, not loved. Loves. He still loves you for you, and he was a fool to realize it this late. He just lost the best thing in his life due to his stupidity; he knew fully well that you couldn’t ever bring yourself to talk to him face-to-face again if the two of you met again. Would you two even come to meet in the first place? That was the true question here. He and you both knew that due to your resistance and remorse for what happened last weekend that you would never permit yourself to see him. Like he said, he couldn’t blame you for that either.

And yet, why is he trying to convince himself that he’s the only one for you? Your every smile was originally because of him, but now... but now, you’d never let him hear that for one, last time. He couldn’t redo his mistakes of the past of hurting you even if he promised never to do that again. And judging this situation, destiny wouldn’t allow that to happen anyway. With all of your encounters, it seemed as if they all turned out the same way. Everything was ripped into shreds.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

“Wait, so you sLEPT WITH HIM?!” Soobin’s voice reached to a dangerous while the two of you paced around the hallways together, trying to quietly talk about last weekend until he so rudely screamed about your untrue administrations. You clasped your hand over his mouth in instinct, punching his shoulder as a warning to keep quiet or else. His body heaved with hearty chuckles while you screamed, telling him to keep his voice down so that you could truly tell him the whole story.

“Soobin! That’s not true; I wouldn’t do anything like that, ever!”

“Well, he’s your ex- and he’s hot, so why wouldn’t you sleep with him?!”

Now some of the students subtly shuffled around to eavesdrop on your conversation, and you groaned at the newfound attention. Just what were you thinking about telling him when sometimes he could contradict himself to be this loud?! It was steaming tea, yes, but no one else had to hear about it! You should’ve told him this stuff at lunch when the two of you were alone.

Swiftly pulling Soobin to the vacant hallway where thankfully no one else was walking, you made sure to keep your voice to a faint hush. You weren’t sure if he could hear you, but you couldn’t risk involving anyone else in this personal matter. Students passed by all around you in the other hallway, holding conversations and walking in groups which was a good sign you could actually speak normally since no one was paying attention anymore.

“So did you or did you not?” He mused, ruffling the top of your head. You pushed his hand away, rolling your eyes at his playfulness when the gravity of the situation needed to be comprehended instead.

“Soobin, I told you we never slept together in that sense last weekend. We were both drunk and shared the same bed! It doesn’t mean anything and we aren’t going to get back together,” you held your breath through those words as you watched the amused smile on his face turn into a pitiful, pouting lip. His adorable puppy dog eyes that were begging you not to get mad at him didn’t seem to work now, and you found yourself telling him off even if you didn’t mean to in the first place.

“You’re so stupid for thinking that, you know?! Yeonjun’s a jerk, I have no clue why I ever got with that bastard in the first place! God, if you never let us meet together then you know I would’ve been happy now. Just why did everything have to turn out this way?!”

The walls of your heart you tried so hard to buttress through your words and actions crumbled with every second you spoke, disintegrating into pure dust the moment your voice leveled to reach your anger. Your chest was trembling as you choked out the last few words, unable to say anything anymore as a lump appeared in your throat. You hated being weak in front of him the most because he’s seen you so many times like this before and he’d very clearly think of you as a crybaby.

He seemed to understand this, shooting you a gently smile as some small encouragement. It was that smile that urged you to snap out of your evil trance immediately. For saying all those rude things to him, it was contradictory since at that very moment you wanted to take everything back. The guilt ate you up in an instant once you took in his dumbfound yet soft expression, causing you to envelope him in a warm embrace as contrition. He never deserved this treatment when it wasn’t even his fault anyway.

“I... I’m sorry, Soobin. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. It’s just so hard on me now since I know I shouldn’t have done that with him last weekend. We didn’t do a lot, and yet I still want to say that I love him...? Even now I won’t allow myself to cry and be weak but,” your voice faltered as your body slightly shivered, “I can’t do it. I just can’t be strong anymore. It’s so hard.”

Soobin sighed, generously allowing you to lean on him like last time. You were so strong- you had always been so strong in front of him, and it hurt him to see that you were slowly breaking no matter how much you tried to stop it. He could see right through the so called smile you shot him this morning as soon as you saw him. He knew right then and there that something happened to you during the weekend and when he heard it was all about Yeonjun... he had to contain himself not to beat up his best friend or else the friendship he treasured dearly would crash, fall, and wouldn’t withstand.

However, the truth remained. Little by little, you were shattering due to Yeonjun’s actions and he could only watch helplessly as you flew freely to the ground. It was an understatement to say that he was starting to hate his best friend for doing this to you, but in the end he believed you. If you did it before, then you could do it again right? And you knew that Soobin was always right there for you no matter what.

Last month you gave it your all in order to move on. He truly admired that you kept running and running towards the future even if you felt that there was no end, a quality he secretly cherished of you. As a person, you were strong in your own way and Soobin was proud of you. He just didn’t know how to say it now without making the bright atmosphere droop. It was always like this whenever a problem with your relationship arose. He brought you closer to his arms.

“You’re not weak at all for crying, Y/N. I think you’ve been holding it for too long now. You’re always welcome to come to me, alright? I’ll save you from that stupid Yeonjun and make you happier than he ever has! You deserve someone much better. You and I both know this.”

He wiped your every tear which streamed against your cheek with his thumb gently, and somehow you finally smiled. Ardent, genuine, and sincere, your smile was enough to cause another one of his own towards you, a great deal of blinding happiness all around you. You were sure Soobin was waiting for this after a while, although it came out at a surprising time. You didn’t expect it either.

This was another feeling you couldn’t ever get enough of, for it reminded you of the time when Yeonjun asked you to be his... but comparing it to this wasn’t right at all.

No words were spoken between the two of you, but it really did mean a great deal of comfort to you. How could he offer up this ample amount of support towards you? You made a promise to yourself to make it up to him one day.

A few minutes later, you reluctantly pulled away from his sweet hug to check the time on your phone. You weren’t sure how long you’d been holding each other like this (and you really did enjoy it), but if you kept dawdling then you would miss every single afternoon class. Your eyes scanned through the upper numbers.

Crap. You already missed the first few minutes!

You scrambled to get yourself off him, pulling your bag over your shoulder in a haste. “Wait, I’ll tell you the details later!” You waved your hand for a flimsy goodbye, rushing to get every paper in your bags in check. It was a pathetic bye, that was for sure. You rushed out before Soobin could even mutter a bye, hoping to get there in good time so that you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of everyone. Oh, well. You’ll see him later.

Your footsteps faded away little by little and yet another set rippled through his ears through little clacks on the spotless floor. He wondered if you were coming back to ask him something but before he could turn around, sweet words that were due to a familiar tone made his heart stop in place.

“Please, take care of her for me.”

...

Upon hearing that voice Soobin halted in his tracks, looking back at a pair of warm, brown eyes that met his own. By the looks of it, he heard everything you said. Not to mention that it was the second time the boy eavesdropped at that.

“Soobin, please? You can date her even if it hurts but just please... if I can’t look after her, then who else’ll take her to her favorite restaurant?”

The pleas did not matter to him all the more, if he was being honest. This game was something he didn’t want to be involved in but looks like fate had its plans. It was obvious now. He hated this and although he said you deserved better, it was clear that the two of you were destined to be together.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

The door clamorously creaked as soon as you entered, making you cringe at the sudden but minimal heads that turned towards you. You shyly offered up a smile, reorganizing the books in your hands to pass off some of the attention somewhere else. Some of the people there were doing their own things and focused on talking to each other to an extent. You sighed gratefully. Thankfully you could sit alone at a spot where no one would notice you at the top of the row.

After you wondered where the rest of the students were and the professor whom you searched for in every direction, you gave up with a relieving drop of your shoulders and decided to sit down. Glancing at the time, you muttered how stupid you were under your breath for reading the clock wrong. You were fortunately five minutes earlier, but looks like you have to wait now until the lesson starts.

Getting situated in your spot was an easy thing and you toyed with your phone when you heard a shuffling of clothes sitting next to you on the right. It wasn’t such a good time to be socializing right now since you felt like crap but if you were going to make new friends, you might as well do so now. After all, college was supposed to be a good experience minus all the endless assignments and projects to prepare for your future.

You managed to steal a look at the person who sat right next to you but became paralyzed in your spot when you realized who it was, whipping your head where you wouldn’t be able to get distracted by him. That dazzling, blue hair was unmistakable. And the perfect, rosy lips were too! How could you not be tainted when he chose to sit next to you?! Seeing as the latter was impossible when you heard his deep voice murmur the words ‘good morning,’ a bead of sweat collected at your forehead. He was never this bold before after you broke up, and you pondered if he wanted to be good friends again after what happened. The audacity was unbelievable.

You couldn’t understand why he’d choose to be beside you when there were many more other open spots in the room. He must’ve been mocking you, making fun of you after how weak you looked a few days before.

The question was though, why the hell was he sitting right there?! Right next to you?! You could feel the words becoming stuck in your throat as you choked out a good morning back, too anxious to say anything or else it’d initiate a conversation between the two of you. That was the least thing you wanted to do as of now, wasting all your energy on the time spent convincing yourself he’d make up some small talk. That time however never came, and you were left politely smiling at the one and only Choi Yeonjun when you randomly found him staring at you.

The professor finally arrived, lifting off a heavy burden on your chest when you could’ve been dreading the lesson instead. You should’ve left before as to not create any conflict, but anymore absences and your future would’ve been as good as dead. Although you could look at the bright side now! Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to talk to you or else he’d miss some important things which would in turn affect his grades. You threw a grateful smile towards the center of the cavernous room, becoming a little bit relaxed even if some part of you was still freaking out he was that close to you.

The class was a blur, pointless information echoing throughout the room you didn’t care to learn since you were dozing off. Your mind was too busy looking back at the events that went down last weekend, becoming more tired with every second that passed. It was hard to get your brain off that addicting stuff called overthinking every single time you caught Yeonjun staring at you with tender, soft eyes. Simultaneously, you were hoping no one would call you out for daydreaming of what could’ve been, so you hid behind a tall person’s blonde head, hoping not to be caught.

Sadly, you were brought back to the room when a chorus of sighs collected together to make a violin whimper of disappointment.

“You will be working with the person beside you on the right,” the professor declared, clearing their throat while most of the class groaned altogether. Wait so that means...

In an instant, everything seemed way too overheated in the room now. Were you the only one feeling hot or what?! You knew fully what was supposed to come next since you were the only two sitting on the top, the rest of the bottom being filled out by tons of people who were tuning in to the lesson.

Sometimes life doesn’t work the way we want it to. That itself was obvious. Otherwise you’d be somewhere else being happy instead of working with this jerk!

You couldn’t help the frustration of curses you thought in your head, glaring at the boy who was giggling cutely to himself.

“Oh, looks like you’re paired up with me! I can’t wait to work with you, Y/N~” The tone of his voice made your heart skip a beat, the all too familiar teasing getting to your head. As you expected, whatever he said would have an effect on you, instantly making you heat up at how true that statement was.

Smiling, you gulped, feeling too parched all of a sudden. God only knows how much you wanted to get out of there right away. You were dying not to embarrass yourself, collecting your books together as you slathered a polite tone to your voice. Somehow you got the words out despite making clear eye contact with him way too long for your own good. It felt so wrong to say he was a masterpiece but it felt so right to keep looking at him like this.

“Where should we work?” Yeonjun asked once more.

He leaned closer to you, leaning on his hand as he maintained an direct, intent gaze. Your lips formed into a straight line, hopelessly wishing he wouldn’t see how much of a mess you were in front of him. Then he licked his lips. That was the end of you! He and you both knew that it was meant to be flirtatious. Your ears burned at the sight. Well that was enough to be looking at his eyes now! You foolishly turned away.

“Hmm, how about we meet at the bakery everyday at five? Are you okay with that?” Yeonjun suggested, raising an eyebrow to comprehend your unsure expression. You nodded your head acceptingly, albeit a bit defeated. He shouldn’t have been expecting anything. You were fine with whatever place you could meet up by, but didn’t he know that you weren’t fine working with him?!

After the quiet and easily awkward atmosphere, you turned on your heel getting up from the exhausting spot. It was much too uncomfortable for you to plan out a schedule with him, and second you weren’t able to catch the directions with him chatting it up a bunch.

Of course you wanted to be mature about the situation, but it was impossible for you. If it was another person, then you would’ve been fine. You could ask around but that itself was scary too. Your heart was in a tugging predicament with you in between, and you weren’t sure what to choose. Seems like Yeonjun was your only choice now. It would’ve helped you move on but with him right there, it would be harder to really think about yourself for once. You shot him one more look, hoping it would be the last.

“Yeonjun, don’t think you’re fooling me with this flirting. You know I can’t work with you after what you said. I’m sorry, but find someone else who’ll be open to being your partner.” You opted to get up from your seat, trying to dash away as quickly and quietly as possible until he said something that made you paralyzed as you got up.

“Y/N, please wait!”

Suddenly the world stopped and in it, you could only see the two of you with Yeonjun clinging gently to you.

He grabbed your arm before you could move to another seat, holding on tightly just to make you stay. You winced at how warm it was compared to your shaking arm, avoiding his vulnerable eyes due to embarrassment. You didn’t know how you were supposed to do this project anyway when you couldn’t even look at him in the first place.

“I know, and I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done whatever we did while we were drunk and bothered you like that. Just... can you work with me this once? I want you to get a good grade with me.”

Gradually, his words became inaudible at the end, as if too ashamed to say it out loud. It was an understatement to say what he said was surprising. Therefore you couldn’t help but gasp at how vulnerable he got when you tried to move away from him when you thought he would’ve let you go after what happened. It was clearly too much for you to see his adorable puppy dog eyes, glistening and sparkling with sincerity when you safely decided to look back at him, feeling weak in the knees with uncertainty of what to say.

And although you wanted to say no so badly, you spoke without thinking and murmured something only he could hear.

“Okay then... Let’s do well.”

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Before you knew it, five pm rolled by and you were face-to-face at the bakery where Yeonjun was waiting for you. At this point, you were reluctant to go through with this since you could easily say you hadn’t found anyone to do the project with. But knowing that the teacher was stubborn and hardheaded when they made plans like these, it would be impossible to convince him to let you work alone. Plus, you actually got ready instead of throwing your favorite hoodie this time! You couldn’t let all your extra effort and special preparing to go to waste just because it was Yeonjun.

And gosh, you just had to remind yourself it was Yeonjun again.

The advances were simple. You had brought all your heavy books relating to the subject, hoping they’d be able to help but now all they seemed to do was weigh you down from getting the door. The wind was heartless, sending icy gusts through your clothes as you heaved out a sigh. It would’ve been good if you just left now instead. But this would only make matters worse. You swiped your phone again, purposely ignoring the contact name of ‘Stupid Mean Jerk Jjuniebug.’ He hadn’t texted you yet saying he was there so you hesitated a tiny bit before reaching for the golden door handle and eventually going inside.

The warm smell of cookies, cakes, and a variety of baked breads welcomed your nose, making the corners of your lips turn up with satisfaction. Out of all the distractions in the world, the Boulangerie was such a perfect place to go to do anything, really. If it wasn’t for your stupid project, you’d probably relax and enjoy a cup of your favorite drink paired with one of the delights they had here! It sounded like flawless idea. Happily, you made a mental memorandum in your head to plan out a day with Soobin where the two of you could hang out and tell stories to each other. He would definitely enjoy this place because of all of the bread you could order.

Surprisingly, Yeonjun was there already and you assumed he was writing something important down due to the determined expression on his face. He furrowed an eyebrow, slightly biting is lip while you inched towards him. You couldn’t help the smile that arose on your cheeks because of how endearing he looked as he worked hard, holding tightly to the books in your arms when you finally came close to him.

He looked up from his little notes of hearts and bunnies he was doodling as soon as a pair of shoes made unpretentious clitter-clacks, eyes lighting up with admiration when he realized that it was you standing there.

“I ordered your favorite dessert while waiting for you. Do you still like it?”

The words got stuck in your throat. He got you something? He must’ve been thinking of your arrival too attentively otherwise there’s no way that was true, but gosh did Yeonjun prove you wrong in a second.

Glancing at the sweets before you paired with a dainty teacup of your favorite drink, a gasp left your lips that embodied awe since he still remembered what you liked to order whenever you came to the Boulangerie with him. The snow white lace of the table fabric created flashbacks in your mind and you tensed up in realization. You hadn’t come here in two months- the last time you were able to picture your last date with him. Although, that wasn’t the point at all.

You were not to be expecting anything after the two of you separated even if the two of you were exes. It was just in Yeonjun’s moral codes in life to be kind to anybody and especially you whenever he please just because it was normal to him. You adored how pure he was, but at the same time you couldn’t shake how he acted towards you almost two months ago. That hostile expression on his face- one you’d never seen before- couldn’t ever be erased from your memory no matter how much effort you put in it.

But the past was the past. No bad things could happen like that now, could it? It was all because the two of you broke up. You were exes.

And yet, you could smile freely like nothing of the sort happened towards the two of you. After all, it was the right thing to do wasn’t it? Yeonjun would’ve wanted you to do that too, you knew it deep inside despite desiring to deny it. To move on and not have any feelings of pent up frustration and anger towards each other. Joy swelled in your heart at how much maturity you were gaining because of heartbreak. Maybe the two of you could be friends. Maybe.

“Thank you so much for doing this even if you didn’t have to, Yeonjun. I’m surprised you even came since your friends are much more interesting than me. I’m glad that you did though.”

You decided to take a bite in the delicacy, immediately not regretting the dulcet decision as you relished in the simple sweetness that came with it. Honestly, you missed this wonderful, mouth watering taste so much! Just like what you remembered, you shut your eyes in pure content, not being able to take in the sight of the boy in front of you who chuckled to himself.

Yeonjun heaved a breath of amusement from his chest, cheek laying down on his hand again as his eyes showed nothing but the sincere feeling of endearment towards you. He shifted comfortably on his side, grabbing one of the crimson, bright strawberries from his plate as he bit onto the juicy tip of it.

“You know, you’re always cute when you smile like that,” he whispered, not caring whether or not you heard it- which you obviously did.

You puffed your cheeks out at this.

“Shut up...! We’re here for a project, remember? Not to... flirt, silly.”

The mischievous yet saccharine grin on his face made you flustered and you glanced away from him, pretending to look at the tray of enclosed desserts that you saw when you first entered the bakery. You couldn’t allow yourself to become distracted like this! Not to mention that looking at him straight through doesn’t seem to help either!

“Oh, but when I look at you I can’t seem to focus on anything else. I’m being serious here; I just really can’t seem to take my eyes off you.”

The slamming yet gentle sound of you slamming the spoon you were holding on the table gave everything away and his eyes turned into euphoric crescents that only signaled delight.

“Yeonjun, I said shut your trap. All these cheesy compliments and I’ll... we have to do our project, so please cooperate and let’s put our work together to actually do something good.” You pulled your books together in a pile, acting as if you were really doing something in order to distract him from teasing you. The raging beat of your heart begged to differ, so you hoped he wouldn’t hear it or else that would give him another reason to make you flustered.  

“As you wish, princess. We’ll work so well together that you’ll miss me once I drop you home!”

Princess...?

He’ll drop you home...?

You groaned in annoyance at the nickname and offer although you kind of enjoyed it, wanting to smack Yeonjun in the mouth for not listening to your request. He must’ve been deaf or something because the whole time he kept throwing coy phrases you’d never heard before or trying to whine about how much work it all was for the two of you.

You were only starting to understand how annoying he was whenever he got cranky and dozed off for thirty minutes, leaving you to search through all those books and gather information yourself which was luckily a lot of help. It was a nice silence for a while but once he got back to annoying you endlessly, you swore you could rip all your hair off from the frustration building up from inside of you.

How were you going to do a week of working with him when you couldn’t even look at him in the eye every time he made pouty, kissing lips? Or take him seriously whenever he called you a pet name for that matter? You wished future you the best luck, unfortunately not knowing what would arrive in the times to come.

...

“Hey, could you look at this for a second? I’m having trouble if I should or more exactly- how I should put this down when it makes no sense.”

You laughed at how clueless he was when it came to his favorite subject, shuffling right beside him to see what he was struggling with. It was too natural, too suspicious for the both of you not to know this. You contained the snickers of mock once you put it all together, silently calling him stupid in your head for not being able to jot down this simple effortless thing. You twisted your body towards the notes, enough for your shoulders to meet together.

Little did you know that Yeonjun only wanted you to come close to him, and it was more than suffice to say it worked out in his favor.

You were explaining everything to him but the only thing he could focus on was the little things about you. The bitty, endearing gestures of your hands while you connected two of the subjects, the way your chest heaved up and down when you took a tiny breath of air, and even how your lips opened and closed was enough for Yeonjun’s fluffy cheeks to heat up and bloom into a rosy red. The words droned off as it echoed between the two of you, easily becoming pointless since he wasn’t paying attention anyway.

A couple of seconds passed between the two of you when the bakery suddenly became silent, and he gripped the pencil he dropped earlier on the table as you shot him a shy smile. Yeonjun’s knuckles became white with every second his stare lingered on you. You were way too cute for your own good, and you didn’t even know it- so why was he surprised? He, too, was hoping you wouldn’t be able to notice the aggressive thumping in his chest.

“Yeonjun? You got all of that, right?” Your symphony-like voice snapped him from out of his trance.

“Okay, then I’ll put that down,” he breathed tiredly.” It looks like he was getting exhausted too, huh? You were about to say a few words of encouragement until he cut you off with his own.

“We’re almost done researching; just hang in there, alright? You’ve been doing so well, Y/N.”

The gentle, supporting words was enough to send ripples through your heart and you nodded your head, all the while checking through what you noted and what you forgot. You wanted to keep thinking about what he said and how it motivated you to keep going. You didn’t want to upset you and most definitely not him. However, the fatigue coating your eyes was too much and you slowly closed the heavy lids, head slowly turning to the side before you fell on something all too familiar.

A sudden yet light weight on his shoulder made him look up from what he was writing down, stunning him in his spot when he saw you had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He must’ve known that this much thinking wore you out after such a long while. A tender smile decorated his lips and he took in your every feature, hoping to draw out the face that made him feel alive.

“She’s so cute...” He grabbed his jacket from the side he’d taken off earlier, laying it gently upon you with his other hand as if it was something he’d done since the beginning of time. You nuzzled your cheek against his way too comfortable shoulder, becoming more snug with each minute that passed by. He couldn’t help the skip in his heartbeat when you muttered his favorite nickname in your sleep, this ‘Jjuniebug’ being much more different compared to the past because he knew you were dreaming of him.

When such a sight like this was to be treasured by anyone, he decided he didn’t want to work anymore. Like the gentleman he was, he gathered your books together, pushing your plate to the side before laying his head against yours. He intertwined your hands with his, grinning gently from ear to ear at the warmness he felt from inside.

He stole one more glance at you, fingers delicately dancing from your cheekbone all the way to your chin, tracing your jaw as gingerly as he could. This was what he was hoping for after such a long time of not receiving it. That itself was rightfully so, yet having you near meant the world and so much more to him.

Then he glanced out the window where rain was drizzling, creating a dreading gray atmosphere which was nothing but chaos. It could’ve been something that alerted him on such a dreary day, making him anxious at how he was going to get home in a mess. But to him, he wouldn’t trade this peaceful present. Always, he wanted to be close to you like this. It couldn’t have been too much to ask, honestly.

“Tell me,” he said to no one in particular, “how can you make a moment last forever?”

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Tuesday passed as quickly as Monday did and you swiftly got prepared for five pm later. You were bouncing with excitement, ready to see the boy who’d been waiting for you over at the library, a place you decided together when he texted you during lunch break. To be true to yourself, you couldn’t wait to work with him. All day you were waiting for the horrid, slow hours to pass of lectures and countless assignments online, lingering silently through the minutes that seemed to go by forever in hopes that everything would go faster. The relief you felt when you were dismissed for the day and the joy that swelled in your heart when you went home, preparing yourself as best you could.

You didn’t understand why you were buzzing with energy over meeting someone like this, for wasn’t it true the two of you were exes? Two months ago you broke up; that was quite obvious. It didn’t help that and that number one: he was a jerk after a while of dating you, and number two: he was probably playing with your heart if you decided to be smart. But then again you always rewarded that guilty pleasure by saying the past was the past and he bought you your favorite delicacy. He may have hurt you before and because of that, you promised yourself you wouldn’t ever date him ever again.

With that thought in mind you threw your favorite outfit on that you planned just the night before, looking in the mirror twice just to make sure you looked okay. Deep down you knew it was a lie to say you weren’t doing these special things for him, trying to convince yourself that in doing so- this dressing up would do your ego a favor. Yeonjun didn’t have to see this, not at all! It was all because you wanted to look decent. Just that.

So sneakily, you crept out of the house while slipping your shoes on since nobody would notice you were gone. You checked your phone at least twice before opening the door, clearly not ready for the surprising sight your eyes landed upon as soon as you left home.

In front of you was the boy who had taken your mind captive all day, smiling from ear to ear as his fingers combed gently through his blue hair.

You gasped at how he actually came to your house after teasing yesterday that he would, but you never knew he’d carry out his plan. He would keep poking your cheek while saying something under his breath like how he’d visit you one day to pick you up. He would never do that, right? Well no, you were extremely wrong and just a day after your project date went well.

Nonetheless, you couldn’t stop the touched grin on your face to know he was waiting for you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he shyly giggled and that itself made your heart skip a beat, “let’s walk to the library together today, alright? Wait, let me take your books, please!”

Even with your protests and several no’s, he still took your books and placed it snugly against his left arm, teasing about how light they were together. You glared at him for a second before taking a few steps when he suddenly grabbed your hand.

You turned around, eyes wide in a daze.

“What is it?”

An overwhelming heat rose up to your cheeks and ears, making you feel hot in the face as you realized he was still holding on.

“If it isn’t too much to ask, can I hold your hand today? I really miss the warm feeling you gave me last summer.”

He held his hand out expectantly, waiting for you to take it on your own accord. You easily obliged- albeit a bit hesitantly- putting your hand against his and allowing him to guide you to wherever- whenever he wanted. The way his eyes lit up as he lead you to the place was precious, making you feel soft with endearment at how gentle he treated you.

Now this? This was bad. So, so bad.

On the day you left Yeonjun’s house in tears, you weren’t expecting any of this to happen. You weren’t sure how you could trust him so easily after everything he’s done- maybe it was the way you felt his sincerity in every smile he sent you or how tenderly he had grabbed your hand just now, but the happiness bottling up inside you did not lie. You felt pure jubilation whenever you saw him.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

It was Wednesday.

Wednesday, the middle of the school days where you desperately wanted to claw your eyes out from how tedious everything was. Wednesday, a day where nothing significant happened but nothing too horrible happened either. Wednesday, a reminder that you only had two days left- counting today and Thursday- to work with Yeonjun. You hated the bitter taste of having to really say goodbye, but the future had to be on the brighter side then. After this, you swore you wouldn’t ever see him and his damn handsome face for another accidental time.

Just about reaching four in the afternoon, you decided to go with Soobin over to the Boulangerie where you’d been promising yourself to take him since Monday. It was luck on your side today that you actually went out for some fresh air, carrying out some of the awaiting plans you had on your checklist. Sometimes it was nice to have a breather in the middle of the week when everything else was distracting.

It started off as usual, and you realized you hadn’t seen him since that very day of hearing Yeonjun’s offer to be your partner. To be quite honest, you didn’t really think about telling him since it shouldn’t be that important, but the boy knew it was important just by from the hesitance in your expressions. His fingers placed the glass filled with chocolate milk on the table gently and curiously prodded.

“Y/N? You’ve been acting strange lately; is everything okay?”

You glanced up from the china plate, eyes widening with surprise. You weren’t sure what he was talking about. It couldn’t have been anything important, could it? Or were you being so obvious about your giant, giant problem?

“Yeah, everything is fine, Bin! Trust me, there isn’t anything going wrong but I guess you could say that... from your perspective.”

You made sure to look at the way he reacted and seeing how his head titled with wonder, you chose to give it a try.

“Well... I should’ve called you about this but I’m working with Yeonjun for a project. We have to turn it in by Friday, but we’ve been doing stuff on it since Monday. It doesn’t mean anything though, and we’re supposed to meet up at the park (Moonlight) today.” You intentionally left out the fact he asked you and those sweet moments since you were afraid of his reaction.

You knew he was one to be respectful and kind no matter the person, although because of all this tugging back and forth between his best friends- you couldn’t blame him for wanting to sock either one of you for being so stupid. And stupid were you and Yeonjun for not being able to get enough of each other, at least that’s how you viewed it. Soobin wouldn’t dare to hurt either one of you since the two of you were best friends; physically wouldn’t cut it. You hoped he would just remain patient like he’d always have- one thing you were grateful for, obviously, instead of freaking out at the recent moments you’ve experienced.

That being said, the look on Soobin’s face was absolutely priceless once you told him about your predicament.

“You two? On a project? TOGETHER?!”

Glumly you nodded your head, expecting him to say something but his mouth was filled with shock to the brim that he couldn’t even bring himself to say anything.

“Yup, that’s true. You didn’t know about it?” To say the least, you were surprised he didn’t know about it since Yeonjun was one to trust him about everything. Little things like this would count, yes, and you could very vividly remember how he blabbed to Soobin when you first started dating about how to keep a girl on her period happy.

In response, he shook his head, hand still glued covering his mouth. Your lips slightly turned upwards at his melodramatic feedback.

“No, he didn’t tell me anything at all about it! Why are you guys keeping secrets from me?”

Ouch, that stung. But at the same time, what were you expecting?

“That’s a surprise. I thought he couldn’t keep his mouth--”

The deafening, shuffling sound of the store bell rang throughout your ears, causing you to shudder at the intermittent sound. This was a popular Boulangerie so you didn’t need to be surprised whenever a new customer came in, but it stunned you at the worst times. You shrugged at Soobin’s suddenly ghost white reaction, thinking he was just kidding with you again and went back to the cup of a refreshing drink. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about it unless it was someone you knew.

You lifted the cup to pass through your lips until the familiar sight of messy radiant, blue hair caught the peripheral vision of your eye.

It had to be him. It couldn’t be anyone else.

“Y-Yeonjun...?”

As your heart dropped to your stomach, your voice broke out gently, making you the only person to hear it muffled with both distress and disbelief. There was no possible way you were witnessing what was happening in front of you. You didn’t want to believe it, squinting your eyes over and over again just to get a good look. It was still him no matter what you did, no matter what you changed.

Somehow, he didn’t notice you.

He sat down at a table, sending a sugary smile towards an alluring girl who sent him the same one back. Your back became rigid at the too close proximity of their faces. They chatted for a little bit about anything that could cross their minds, obviously flirting with the stares sent back and forth and back again until it turned into a full discussion- both of them laughing their hearts out. Happiness from the ideal ‘couple’ (as anyone could’ve mistaken them) spread around the Boulangerie contagiously, making everyone awe at the sight of them fully enjoying themselves. But you? You? Your heart shattered piece by piece while watching this play out.

Too many questions flooded in your mind at once as well as too many insecurities, paralyzing you in your spot as you couldn’t find the correct way to breathe again. It was getting too hard to find the air in, you realized. Soobin called your name out many times- to get you to listen, to get you out of your stupid trance, to get you to do anything else in the world but look because it’d hurt you just as much as it did for him!

To this, you were only sitting still, staring and staring like a dormant painting hanging in a museum just to find out that you wouldn’t ever be able to change anything, but only see the people in front of you. You didn’t want to look at the face of pain in front of you but... if you looked away then something else might happen.

You cradled yourself in your arms, trying to stop the icy cold breeze that whirled pass your rips and over to the tips of your toes. It didn’t make sense to you. Why even bother putting effort into winning him back? You wouldn’t be able to be as good enough. You shouldn’t have even tried in the first place.

You gulped down those insecurities again, trying to calm your shaking hands.

It wasn’t possible to be that perfect... not at all. She was such a stunning girl, the epitome of everything you weren’t and what you didn’t have. She had such sparkling eyes, such a gorgeous smile, and not to mention an impeccable complexion that had every single girl in the world jealous. Everything about her was simply perfect and that drowned your own specialties into the deepest ocean called hatred.

Once again you glanced at Yeonjun who seemed to be having fun with the deep chuckles and smiles he was freely giving up. Oh, how bad you wanted it to be you but this reminder was one that gave you a wake up call. You never really had a chance in the first place.

He then turned his head a little to the side, ultimately being able to see you sitting next to Soobin just like you had planned. His honeyed brown eyes changed from smug into something unreadable you couldn’t put your finger on before changing in a split second to look back at the girl.

The decision dawned on you, and you clenched your fists until you felt flashing, white pain run through your fingers.

He didn’t even care.

You were stupid enough to believe he actually liked you back again. You were stupid enough to think that with all these sweet interactions and words, he was warming up to you for another countless time. You were stupid to think he was being truthful that drunken night, saying he needed you clearly as much as you needed him. Finally, you were stupid enough to think he loved you. Now the proof was smack dab in your face, blinding you from your goal of hating him, and you were such a fool to be thinking he would really be yours after such a long while.

The glossy tears gathered in your eyes, angry, frustrated but pointless words with no explanation becoming more stuck in your throat when you glanced once more at the sight across from you. Time passed by through the regal clock, ringing in an ear and out the other. One way or another, you needed to get out of there and you needed it to be now.

You hastily slung your bag filled with papers over your shoulders, making sure you hid the flowing tears from everyone’s sight. Just one turn and he’d probably see you so pitiful at the wrong time. You certainly didn’t want to look pathetic, especially not in front of Yeonjun, whom you still loved with all your heart.

In a dash, you aggressively swiped the entrance of the door handle and into the day where you just wanted to disappear. Bell ringing haphazardly behind you, you weren’t able to perceive you were out of the bakery until another customer ignored your everblooming sadness, struggling behind you to get the door. Tears soon fell on the ground after holding them in for too long, signaling your vulnerability as you crouched down behind the bakery to let everything keeping your heart captive out. This time, for real, you really weren’t going to see him again even if it meant your grades being obliterated.

You hated him. You hated him so much for what he did back there.

And yet here you were, running away from your problems again.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

“Y/N?”

It was a mistake. It was all a mistake. You shouldn’t have pressed accept without looking at the contact name. You were just so stupid that it was funny. Just another one of the reasons why he wouldn’t ever want to date you again. How could you blame him for breaking up with you?

“Y/N, you there?”

He was seeing another girl, you should’ve known. Why didn’t you know? Why did you have to be such a fool to be used in the first place? And why the hell were you sad about it when you could be using this opportunity to be getting over him?!

“Y/N, you’re not responding and I’m getting worried. Is there something I can do? Please...?”

You were just exes. Exes, for crying out loud! Exes. That’s all.

“Y/N, if you’re there just-”

“yeah, I’m right here,” you murmured quietly, caring any less that he might have not heard you in the end. If he was able to really see how you accidentally looked at him earlier, then surely he would’ve known how the world crashed on your shoulders just by looking at you. Oh, but it was funny wasn’t it? It didn’t matter anyway. After all, he wouldn’t give a damn right? Not what he did back there he wouldn’t.

Because of that, you realized that this conversation with him was not needed. Whether it was because of the project or if it was for a favor, you wouldn’t be able to do it without looking weak in his eyes. Your finger hovered over the red button, tempted to press hang up until again, his act of using a concerned voice tugged painfully on your heart strings.

“Wait, are you okay? Do you need me to be there? Something’s wrong, I know you’re not okay,” he tried for another time, breathing through the call tiredly as if he was oblivious to what went on earlier. The hate for him smoldered in your chest, and your fingers tightened around the phone so arduously that they turned white, shaking hysterically.

“No, I...” you felt your voice break, and you covered the change in pitch by clearing your throat. With the lump so gigantic that you couldn’t even breathe, it hurt to tell him a lie, much less speak at that moment. You put on a tone to make it more believable. “Everything’s fine. Just busy right now.”

“You’re lying,” he whispered so softly into the receiver you were wondering yourself if you had heard him in the first place. You forced yourself to laugh at his statement, but it came naturally, knowing it was all too true.

“I’m not lying, I promise! I just took a nap, that’s all. No need to be so worked up over me.” You figured that teasing him would be the best way to cover up your sorrow, giggling alongside him because you were so bad at lying. Nonetheless, you hoped he would take this approach, waiting silently on the floor for his best answer.

On the other side he hummed hesitantly, mumbling a few words that you couldn’t quite comprehend because you knew he didn’t want to hear them. You barely noticed you were in the corner holding yourself, rocking back and forth as the anticipation of just hanging up crept up on you.

Before you could start, Yeonjun grumbled in concern.

“Well... okay then. But if you really want to convince me you’re fine then you’ll keep your promise and meet at Moonlight today. We still have a lot to do, so let’s meet up at the usual time. You’ll be there, right?”

“Um... I...”

What else could you say? It would be rude to decline and you weren’t in the mood to lie after all that. Well, he didn’t buy it all but at least he got off the topic. You were thankful to him for not budging, although this had to be one of the worst things he could ever suggest. Not only about how you feel in the end but about the project too. As far as you were concerned, you only a little left so you were able to work separately anyway. He didn’t have to go so far to do things his way, but this would show you he didn’t need you at all.

You spoke on impulse hastily after the long, deafening silence.

“Yeah, okay. S-see you then.”

Abruptly, you hung up before the tears could start again. Not even letting him throw in a sincere goodbye to your predicament.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Just like what you remembered, Moonlight was still a breathtaking place where the golden sun shone during the day and the moon peeked out from the dim curtains of nighttime. You sighed, staring longingly at the beautiful scenery before you and sat down under one of the trees. It’d been so long since you chose to come here, especially by yourself this time. There were happy memories that came along with this place and you didn’t want to think about the bad ones, of course. However everywhere you looked, it would only remind you of him and that was the least thing you wanted to have at the back of your mind right now.

Checking the time, you made sure you didn’t arrive too early or too late. It was a few minutes after five and true to your word, you actually came. You were surprised at yourself for showing up voluntarily with your mind in such a bad condition, acting as if you were okay just for a stupid project. If you’d done this earlier, you would’ve definitely said no. Perhaps it was the way he was worried about you- although, you thought it was fishy- that you wanted to come. Maybe then you would’ve gotten the attention you wanted after all this time, with this being the final time you’ll see him.

Eventually, you saw the familiar blue haired boy arrive just a quarter after your planned time. He was panting heavily and you swore you almost felt bad for him until the image of him catching eyes with you from earlier rearranged your thought process by miles. You stood up expectantly as he ran over to you, planting his hands on his knees in order to regain breath.

“So sorry for being late, Y/N,” he choked out restlessly, taking your hands into his as an apology. He held them tightly in place, squeezing in an attempt to excuse himself for why he was late. Instantly you gasped at the contact, slowly pulling away so that he wouldn’t realize that you more or less hated his affection. At times when you’d be melting at this, you failed to realize that your suspicions were true and he was playing you behind your back.

A tight lipped smile that screamed passive-aggressiveness became of your lips and you were eager to take a few steps away from him, shuffling to get under the spot you sat earlier. You backed away a little bit but weren’t able to get far because your shoes slipped from something shaped like a square underneath you. The breath was knocked off your lungs as you fell towards the ground and you plunged back, waiting to hit the ground. That is, until someone caught you by the waist.

You opened your eyes after a few seconds of waiting and as soon as you did... you felt all the blood rush up into your face.

“Y-Yeonjun...”

You weren’t expecting anything like this. Nothing sweet like this at all! Said boy was intently gazing at you, holding you by the waist as you were too shocked to say or hell- even do anything with him this close. Your head tilted away to the side this time, trying to think of anything else that would stop the intermittent pace of your heart beats. Gossiping with Soobin about what happened just now, the way you fell at school a few years earlier and embarrassed yourself and how he helped you up out of everyone else right after, the first moment you laid eyes on him and met the blue haired boy just like that... But no, all you could think of was him, him, and only him!

He seemed to be getting a kick out of this, teasing you with an adorable smile that had you awestruck.

“Were you scared...? Don’t worry about it anymore; I’ll always be here to catch you when you fall, I promise.”

It was then that he started to lean in after chuckling at your shyness, bringing your face closer to his as his eyes ran across yours. Your breath quickened just by looking back at him turn towards you- his gorgeous eyelashes that you felt the need to count each, his nose that was sculpted by the angels, his cherry blossom pink lips you so desperately needed- memorizing every valley on his face as you had done earlier when the two of you dated. Oh wait, dated...?

In a moment, you flung yourself off him. What were you doing with him?! Whatever this was and whatever he was doing- it wasn’t right! It just wasn’t right... It wasn’t right when he was choosing to see someone else, and that girl back there no matter how much you couldn’t help but despise her- did not deserve it. It wasn’t right.

Your legs felt like jelly, unable to stand by yourself as you carried out an attempt to get away from him. It didn’t seem so long ago that you couldn’t get enough of him but now you were itching to be left alone. You wanted to deal with this yourself, not reignite the fire of the hopes that he would return back. He lost that chance and you lost the chance of loving him again- even if yes, you still did love him. It was enough for you anyway- the love he gave you before only serving as a unreachable memory. You realized you needed to relinquish him.

Immediately you pushed him off you, watching the sweet expression on his face bend into something broken. The distance between you became even farther and farther with every breath your chest heaved. You gulped.

“I’m fine. Let’s just get to work so we can finish this,” you deadpanned, bringing your books that used to be laying dormant on the green grassland against your chest, moving under the tree where he broke up with you. This way you would be able to remind yourself that it wasn’t meant to be.

Surprised by your ill nature, Yeonjun nodded carefully, deciding to ponder in his head what was making you act this way instead of asking more questions. There was obviously something wrong, but he didn’t want to bother you more. To him he was unable to think of what he had done wrong and certainly hated the tense atmosphere when you refused to touch him, much less look at him. He just went along with it unknowingly like a fool that it was because of him the whole time.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

It was too hard to concentrate.

Your eyes searched despondently over the materials over and over and over again to write down something- anything that could possibly benefit the project, but it didn’t help at all that your mind was still on the boy sitting in front of you. Like a mantra, the memories of him smiling with that flawless girl kept replaying in your head as many more times as you bit by bit became insane with wrenching love.

Again, you couldn’t help but steal another glance at him before quickly ducking back down so he wouldn’t be able to catch you staring. He looked so peaceful while retracing his steps in the books, laying on his hand as a stand for his cheek. You hated how he could act so fine while you were left with nothing but hate towards him. Could you even call it hate anyway? It wasn’t true at all.

Yeonjun’s soothing voice snapped you out from your daze of pity, but it did the least to heal you and your pathetic attitude.

“Hey, do you think we could rest a second? I might fall asleep here if we have to keep reading about this nonsense stuff.”

You didn’t look up from your book, allowing him easy access to rest on your shoulder as silently as he could. His heart leaped with joy in his chest, but there was no chance he’d ever say it out loud. He graciously laid his head down upon it, becoming enamoured with your scent as he reached out to touch your hand. This need of affection easily leveled the desire which screamed out he needed you, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever get an opportunity to be yours again.

You, on the other hand, was dying to tell him you loved him- but it wasn’t right when he simply had the same love as you for another girl.

But at the same time, you wanted to be strong. You had to be strong in order to convince him you were doing fine without him even if the truth was far from that. You had to put on a mask to hide the pain you were going through just because of him and his stupid, contagious smile that makes you grin every time you see it. You had to be strong, otherwise you’d never fool him that you needed him more than anything or anybody you’ve ever wanted. You had to be strong... but why were all your actions simply betrayed you no matter what you did?

“Get off me.”

Your shoulders started to shake aimlessly, shuddering when you felt his head bury more into the crook of your skin. He must’ve not heard anything, and you clenched your jaw until it twitched with pain.

“I said, get off me!”

As hard as you could, you pushed him off you- enough that you were just inches apart from him. It didn’t compare to the distance between you that you came to note before.

The tears were hot against your cheeks and you collapsed into your shaking hands, unable to hold it in anymore. In all your life, you’ve never felt so humiliated before just because a boy lied to you willingly. You felt pathetic.

To say the least, Yeonjun was taken aback, his eyes wide with shock as he hopelessly reached out his hand to you. All the love you bore just for him crashed into waves upon your chest, and you slapped his fingers away harshly before he could even say something.

Miserably you hid your face from him, not allowing him to see such a mess that he caused by his own hands.

“Who even are you? Are you the Choi Yeonjun who broke up with me or are you someone else?! I don’t understand how you can act like this after everything that happened... tell me, are you just playing with me or something?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant to do...” he tried tiredly, scooting closer to no avail as you turned your back away from him.

You laughed at his words, still not being able to look at him straight in the eye.

“Not what you meant to do? You’re telling me that it’s not what you meant to do?! Then who- who was she? Because it seemed to me that you were happier with her than you could’ve ever been with me!”

The silence that broke you apart was too deafening as you caught another look at him.

“Y/N, that’s not true... just listen, please,” Yeonjun begged, gazing at you desperately with unreadable but melancholy expression that had you on edge. He knew that you wouldn’t stay if he physically bound you in his embrace, but he had no clue what to do or what to say. He just wanted- no, needed you to really live.

Your heart broke all the more at the words he tried to pick up in order to explain- which you were sure he could hear even if he seemed very far. Easily you trashed his attempt away, getting up from your spot since you didn’t want to hear anything- anymore lies that would hurt the person you tried so hard to protect and shield away from the inevitable demise of love... that was you.

Yeonjun hurriedly got up along with you, leaving the pile of your books abandoned on the floor as he rushed out to match your pace. He ran with all his might to catch up with you but every time he reached your side- you would push him away like earlier and he didn’t have time to find his breath.

“Yeonjun, leave her alone. Haven’t you done enough, already?”

Seconds later upon hearing another voice, you rushed to someone else’s side, hoping that he would be able to protect you from the danger. It was pitiful with you standing right behind him as if that would help, but it did more than what you could ever be grateful for.

Yeonjun tensed up at his spot, stunned to see Soobin when he could’ve sworn nobody else was at Moonlight. In his mind, he could see the two of you right there apart from everything else- the two friends that looked so good together... it had to be much better than him after what he’d done. He came to a thought, letting his guard down while words of Soobin asking too many questions towards you occupied his head.

“I knew it. I knew you two were dating. I-I should’ve known,” he mumbled under his breath, his morals paralyzing him in place as he dropped his gaze towards at the ground instead.

Somehow Soobin heard this muttering and smugly smirked at this silly situation, taking a fresh opportunity that could probably boost destiny’s way before hiding it with a deep frown. He pulled you flush against his chest, holding you when you surprisingly really needed it from someone else.

“You finally figured this out? Leave us alone; you lost your chance the minute you broke up with her, pal.”

As Soobin dragged you along, you took one last look towards Yeonjun and gasped when you saw along with yours- two longing eyes flowing with tears that were nothing short of love. You wanted to reach out to help him not to cry like that even if he hurt you, but it would never work out and he’d leave you just like he’d done before. This only showed that you weren’t meant to be, never in a million years.  

And with that you left with the help of Soobin, leaving Yeonjun alone at Moonlight. Time passed to the point where he gazed upon the stars- wishing that you would come back because he wanted to say he still loved you- by himself.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

It was Thursday, the final day where the two of you would ultimately finish this project. The death of having an obligation which ripped your heart out, for better or for worse. The demise of whatever love you shared. The end of seeing him because you really wanted- no, you needed to. Everything was over in a blink of an eye and you were left feeling bittersweet about the situation... more bitter compared to sweet because you wanted more time with him. You knew deep down inside it wasn’t too much to ask, but... ending this would be for the better. It must be.

You were on your usual pathway home from the library after trying to bribe the librarian to excuse you from losing your books (when you actually accidentally left it there with him) while along the way thinking about what to do to make a grand finish for the project. Since the two of you worked on it a lot for a few hours before you exploded on him- something you weren’t sorry for in the least bit because it got your feelings out- it was safe to say that he wouldn’t bother you about it anymore. He finished his side, you were assuming, so he didn’t have to see you for the time being unless he ever decided to talk it out with you. Other than the fact that you totally hurt him back there, it honestly served you a great victory on a silver platter as you waited for the dragged out day to be over.

It was petty, of course it was! But after what he did back there at the Boulangerie while not to mention, make eye contact with you- sweet revenge had to be one of the best tastes a connoisseur could ever call upon.

And the project? Oh yeah, that’s right. It was a good thing that it was the final day so you wouldn’t have to act civil with him, for better or for worse.

After a few more blocks finally, you made it home, causing you to sigh out in relief. Hurriedly you grabbed your keys from your purse, fumbling with several of them to find the one that fit perfectly. The familiar touch never came though, and you groaned loudly, cursing yourself in your head for forgetting it in the library. It was when you set it down next to the book you were reading before you confronted the librarian- poor old woman- and somehow, you forgot to pick it up the second you got up.

Great, now this.

You opted to stare at the horizon in front of you, letting the breeze freely cool down your body. The sight was nothing less than pretty. It was a windy, golden sunny day outside but you didn’t want anything to do with it. All day you were planning to mope around the house and watch your favorite shows, procrastinating ‘til the last minute until the due date of every assignment arrived. They hit differently whenever you grabbed a bag of chips downstairs to finish them along with the homework, and you giggled at every moment that flashed in your head.

There was nothing else better to do but call Soobin, right? Although you didn’t want to bother him because these months have definitely been annoying for him whether he said it or not.

Defeated, you then stared down into the white porch as if it was at fault, feeling fear rise up your throat. What were you going to do? There was no one else you had given the key to, except...

“Y/N? Can we talk?”

Oh, no. Oh, no... Oh no no no!

When you heard that voice you were instantly glued to that spot, feet affixed on the porch as your heart beat too fast for its own good. Your mind must’ve been hallucinating and playing tricks on you; clearly you weren’t ready to see him yet!

Swiftly you moved your head to the side, eyes widening with appall to see that he was actually right there. Expression nothing less than sorrow, hair messed up and fluffy right in front of his eyes, cherry blossom lips curved into a trembling frown: it was Yeonjun, alright, but yet it was someone you couldn’t recognize due to the complete change of attitude in him. He was tightly holding onto your books but seemingly refusing to hand them over as if that would do anything better and increase the need for conversation. Unlike his stiff posture, his eyes held firm intent though, and you quivered at the determination sewn in them.

“Do you need anything?”

Instead of acting childish like you played out in your head, you simply responded it a curt voice because it was better than saying nothing and benefiting the sworn silence. More than anything you wanted to get out of there and leave the awkward tension, but there was nothing else you could possibly do without embarrassing yourself due to the fact you lost your keys.

“I... I...” This time, he avoided your eyes, words caught in his throat as he couldn’t find the exact thing to say. It wouldn’t make things any better, you realized. It just wasn’t meant to be.

You pursed your lips, locking them into a line. Whatever he had to say- it didn’t matter. Plus, there was another thing. As your eyes were already tearing up, it would be hard to stay for long to listen to his words. There was no telling what you’d say if tears automatically streamed down your cheeks.

“If you don’t have anything to say, then I’ll l-leave. We can just work on the project separa-”

Clack!

Clack!

Clack!

Before you could even stay true to your words, Yeonjun took slow steps towards you that had you walking backwards... without you looking.

Soon enough your back hit the door, and you gasped at the close proximity between the two of you now as he leaned in. His hands reached out to cage you in between his arms, tilting his head to the side to study your reaction. The soft blue hair brushed against the top of your head- showing how dangerously close he was. His breath fanned across your lips and his heavenly cologne infiltrated your sense of smell. If he decided to torture you even more, then you’d be able to touch noses from how near he was.

Look, you weren’t sure how to describe it at that moment other than- he was pinning you to the damn wall?! Suddenly you felt all the blood rush in your face, and it was then that you couldn’t make eye contact with him anymore- especially because he’d see how embarrassed you were! He didn’t have to be that close!

“yes, I need something. Or more specifically, you.”

His voice was much more huskier than you remembered it to be, and his eyes fell upon yours, begging for you to look back if not for your anxiety that he was this close. You immediately shut your eyes, heart beating erratically in your chest even if you tried to stop it by focusing on something else. But Yeonjun... how could you not think of anything else but him?! He was nothing short of breathtaking but seeing him this close and personal... it didn’t do good things for your heart!

“M-me?”

It was obvious that the boy was amused even if he felt guilty about the problem, making a quick exhale through his nose to show entertainment. His chuckle that came heartily through his chest caused your ears to heat up with shame since it showed how weak you were- just for him.

“Yes you, you silly baby,” he cooed endearingly, “who else could it be?”

“You’re one to be calling me silly! Don’t pretend like you were the one the other day who asked if frogs have blood!”

In a split second, his face morphed into something nothing less than serious and his left arm dropped to his side. You couldn’t help but wonder at the duality he managed to have when the gravity of the situation hit him.

“I miss things like this. I miss it so much. I miss joking around with you and chasing you around the house just to tickle you. I miss how attached you were because little did you know, I was just as much attached to you as you were to me.

“I miss the sweet look you give me every time I ask you out on a date. I miss having you right beside me whenever we studied together because you were the only person who cheered me on even when it was two in the morning. I miss giving you random kisses out of nowhere because I can’t get enough of you and that adorable, surprised face whenever I did so.

“I miss slipping my hand into yours whenever we would walk home together, letting you cling onto me so that I could protect you from all dangers. I miss giving you victory every argument we had because I hate making you cry. I miss cuddling you on the couch as we watched our favorite shows together whenever we were too lazy to get up and how I couldn’t stop smiling every time you laughed.

“I miss kissing the top of your forehead and you never knew because you were asleep. I miss waking up with you by my side and seeing something so gorgeous it would stay in my head all day even if I studied the same materials over and over again. I miss looking up at the stars with you at Moonlight and resting my head on your lap as you ran your fingers through my hair and how we’d do it every single week.

“Can’t you see? I miss you and every little thing you do, simple or exquisite. I know why you acted that way yesterday and I hate myself so much for not realizing it until later. I owed her something after she told me a way to somehow get closer to you when I’d done such a horrible thing. You can love Soobin- I don’t care about myself anymore as long I get to see my favorite girl smile due to the fact that she’s in love.

“Y/N, you mean much more to me than anything and it’s okay if you’re happy not loving me again because at least I got to experience the full joy and sadness that visited along with the love of my life. This may be the last time you may ever want to see me, but please... let me tell you how much I need you one last time.”

His eyes were shining, full of sincerity that you were able to feel even if you weren’t him. Tears resembling glistening pearls streamed down with his cheeks as he finally told you the truth he’d been dying to tell you, allowing you to see his vulnerabilities inside out. And yet, he was genuinely smiling as he confessed this, happy enough he got the chance to tell you loved you one last time.

Gradually he extended his arms out wide, allowing you to have your personal space while he took a few steps backwards and towards the grass where you followed him. By the end of it all, you weren’t able to help the tears welling up in your eyes at how touched you were from the inside. It was him, the boy who promised to love you until the end of time.

“Y-Yeonjun, I...” he cut in through your words, closing his eyes in fear of the pain that would soon become of his body if you did in the end, choose to grant his wish. It simply wasn’t enough to level the agony of his heart, but he was willing to take all the pain instead of burdening it on you.

“I’ll let you push me. I’ll let you hit me. I’ll let you get back what you deserve. You can slap me, as long as you let everything out. I don’t want you to hurt anymore because of me, so just do it!”

...

...

...

Silence.

Oh, the euphoric relief coursing in your veins that really pushed you over the edge.

Immediately you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him as tightly as you could because you never wanted to let go. You melted into his embrace upon contact, burying your head against his chest that was warm and overflowing with passion. Yeonjun hesitantly embraced you back, unsure of what happened just now.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his dumbfound expression.

“You silly baby,” you teased, repeating his playful words from earlier, “I’m not dating Soobin and I never have. Why would I date him when I’ll never love this way again?”

You booped his nose as quickly as you could, smiling when he finally reciprocated the same grin back.

“Choi Yeonjun, you were such a fool to lose me, but I’m even more of a fool to love you again. I’ve never stopped loving you, although I’m sure you already knew that, hEY-”

With happiness overflowing the boy, he picked you up and you were swept off your feet in a second. Wide smiles reflected back and forth from his face to yours as he spun you around him a few inches from the ground, pure bliss surrounding the two of you since you both were complete again. He let you laugh in his hands, tickling your sides unintentionally while you snickered at him to let you down. He only chuckled at this, stopping in place but still refusing to listen to your request.

“I love your very big brain that’s so smart it makes me frustrated with how dumb I am sometimes,” he brought you down a little bit to kiss your forehead. He then trailed down to your nose.

“I love how you ask me for opinions of perfume when you know deep down instead I adore your natural scent instead,” he kissed your nose and you laughed at the feeling it naturally gave you.

“But most importantly,” Yeonjun placed you down on the golden grasslands again and ceased right in front of your lips, letting his breath fall upon them, “I love you.”

Then he connected your lips together, bringing you closer towards him than he had ever done before.

At last, everything was finally perfect.

«──── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────»

Posted: 3/29/21- 1:37am (yes i did stay up halfway to two am just to get this finished. priorities people- it’s just a sweet early monday here 😔🧍)

Tags:

[ms-demeanor]

Stressed Computer Anon:

Hi friend!

You’ve actually given me the idea for a very helpful book I want to write but it’s pretty clear you’re not going to be okay waiting that long so here’s a very, very basic primer for people in similar situations

SO YOU THINK YOU’RE BEING CYBERSTALKED

If you’re worried about being tracked online by people who have somehow accessed your computer or phone and/or you’re worried about your computer being taken over FEAR NOT! This is VERY fixable!

So the thing is the only way that people can track you like this is by having some kind of network access to your devices. I can’t track your cellphone if it isn’t connected to the cell network (at least not without a pretty serious amount of legwork and a warrant) and I can’t track your computer if it’s not connected to the internet.

The absolute easiest, fastest, most guaranteed way to fix this problem is by disconnecting all your devices. I know that doesn’t seem great because what’s the point of having the devices if they’re not going to be connected, but don’t worry you’ll get this settled and get back online eventually.

What you are going to do FIRST is get on a device that you’ve never used before, get on a computer or phone network you’ve never used before, and you’re going to change your passwords. While you’re at it you may want to get yourself set up with a password manager. Here’s a step by step of the ideal way this would work:

Go to someplace with public-ish computers where you can use the computers for a while (school or public library works well)

Open up a private session of whatever browser is installed on that computer

Create a protonmail email account

Log in to each of your online accounts, change the recovery email to the protonmail account, and reset the passwords

(do the rest of the stuff that i’m going to tell you about)

Install a password manager AFTER you’ve sanitized your network and change all your passwords AGAIN using the password manager generated passwords.

Once you have reset all your passwords (steps 1-3) it is time to sanitize your network and your extant devices.

Start by doing a backup of your phone and your computer. This is a FILE BACKUP ONLY, you DO NOT want to restore from backup.

Make sure you’ve got the manufacturer installation discs and activation keys for any software that you have on your computer (or the online equivalent - you don’t use a disc to install MS office these days, you use a Microsoft account and you should have already changed your password for that) because you are going to have to REINSTALL your computer. This means you ALSO need an installation disc for your operating system.

Connect to your router and change the password, select the most secure security settings you router allows.

Reinstall your operating system on your computer and factory reset your phone (make sure you’ve written down all your contacts and saved all the files on your computer or phone to an external device because you will lose them with the reset/reinstall).

(Windows, Mac, Android, iOS)

Make sure that the only things you plug into your computer are things you’ve purchased - remove all wireless dongles for mice or keyboards, make sure the chargers for your phones are all ones that you’ve purchased and not any that were given to you, and only plug stuff back in if you’re 100% sure you know what it goes to.

AFTER REINSTALL/RESET TURN OFF ALL THE WEIRD WIRELESS CONNECTIONS YOUR PHONE AND COMPUTER MAKE. Turn off bluetooth, turn off network discoverability, turn off anything that lets shit talk to your computer or phone.

(This will break/disable things like smart speakers, activity trackers, and a bunch of other IoT tech. If you’re paranoid enough to be doing all of this stuff you should NOT be using those things anyway)

Once you’ve reinstalled your OS on your computer go online and set yourself up with a VPN. If you are feeling EXCEPTIONALLY paranoid you can do this using a mobile hotspot instead of your internet connection. Also if you are feeling exceptionally paranoid you can encrypt your devices.

Now that your traffic is encrypted go back into your router settings and reset your password again. You may want to consider purchasing a better/more secure router or one that has an included VPN (from that list I like the Synology router).

Since at this point your computer should be pretty much completely taken care of you can follow the steps in my other post on the issue to secure your phone.

At this point if you connect to the internet through a secured router and a vpn, and if you are using a VPN on the phone and don’t have any weird mystery apps installed and have shut down app permissions, and if you’re doing all of that carefully and well and you’ve changed all your passwords a couple times, nobody should reasonably be able to snoop your traffic.

That isn’t to say I’d consider this setup safe to plot against the government or anything or to prevent a subpoena to your wireless provider if someone filed one, but for the average weirdo on the internet who wants to creep on your traffic you’ve pretty much locked them out.

After that be careful about what you post online (because a SHOCKING amount of what people think has come from someone spying on their network is actually just stuff that’s reasonably extrapolated from your socials) and if someone approaches you in person about your online activities don’t be alone with that person and publicly challenge them about what they’re saying (maybe take a video of them and post that online). Also do not allow other people physical access to your phone, computer, or router.

Based on the descriptions you’ve given me in your asks it seems reasonably possible that you’re experiencing some upsetting coincidences and that nothing is happening, but there’s also a possibility that someone is remotely accessing your computer. If so, doing everything that I’ve described will close off their access.

If you continue to have these upsetting experiences after going through all of these steps I’d say to have a conversation with a reasonable friend and get a reality check. Unfortunately people are often very scared of computers and because they don’t understand them sometimes innocuous things can be upsetting.

There have been several people who have visited our hacker meetups over the years to beg us to stop the hackers attacking them when there is nobody attacking them or they’ve got things set up in such a way that it would be impossible to do what they think is happening. Fixating on the belief that you’re being attacked and tracked can be very upsetting and can make you more likely to misinterpret nonthreatening happenstance as a cohesive and intentional plan.

I’m not saying that’s what’s happening to you, your circumstance is in a gray area where I don’t want to tell you that someone is watching you and you should be paranoid because that’s not what it sounds like, but the things you’re describing reasonably COULD be because of intruders on your computer so there’s no harm in hardening your network. HOWEVER if you DO harden your network and that doesn’t make you feel any better it’s time to ask for some assistance from people in your life.

IN GENERAL to avoid having people remotely access your computer you should:

Make sure that you are very cautious about what programs you install

Do not open unexpected email attachments and do not click on mystery links

Use unique passwords across your accounts

Do not allow people physical access to your devices

Use encryption on your web traffic through a VPN or a secured router

Do not grant people permission to access your computer or allow people to talk you through the process of setting up access for them (so if someone calls from “microsoft” and says they need access to your computer to fix it just hang up)

Use a strong antivirus program

And in general if you think that something FUCKING WEIRD is going on with your computer you should

document every instance of it being fucking weird

take a photo or video of the fucking weird thing on your phone

think about what someone has to gain by accessing your system

think about the ways that someone could plausibly access your system

check in with someone who knows more about computers than you do (like me - this is the right thing to do! and similarly the people who come to the hacker meetups are doing the right thing! But it’s important to listen to these folks and learn from the conversation instead of dismissing the information they give you - that “what do they gain” question applies here too. I have nothing to gain by misleading you, so it’s very unlikely that I’m lying to you)

And in your life in general:

If you’re scared about something you should ask questions and learn more. Everything is much less scary when you know how to fix it or are able to identify the source of a problem. This is true for computers, it’s true for auto repair, it’s true for plumbing.

So I’m really glad you asked, and good luck. I hope this helps.

[sketching-shark]

I think we should start a protection squad (although they don’t need it because they can protect themselves) for Sun Wukong and Guanyin

“Begone monkie kid fandom trying to down grade these really interesting characters with interesting personality’s and backstory ( the both of them like seriously Guanyin backstory is so cool) to a villain wile trying to justify your angsty backstory (that are no where near as cool as monkey who fights gods and Person who has 1000 arms and heads to help people in need) for the actual villain”

So who wants to join

Me:*raises my hand*

Ps: sorry if I got Guanyin backstory wrong am not an expert on it.

Haha okay so some critiques on the jttw & associated media western fandom & fandom in general coming up, so please skip this upcoming text wall if you don't want to encounter my undoubtedly ~devastating~ words (i.e. don't like don't read as people love to say, & if I have to be inundated with images of my notp every time I go into the sun wukong tag then I imagine people can be chill with me expressing my opinions & giving people fair warning that I WILL be critiquing common fandom trends, but no need for you to see that if you don’t want to. Cool? Cool.)

-----

PFFFFFTTT oh man there are many times when I feel like signing up for such a protection squad...when it comes to the current western jttw & Sun Wukong fandom I do feel like I'm often swinging at a rapid pace between "well it's fandom & people are allowed to make the stories they want" & "I am once again begging my fellow monkie kid enthusiasts (& sometimes creators) to do more research into the og classic/show it more respect so you can avoid any potentially offensive/off-the-mark misunderstandings of the status & cultural context of the characters in their country of origin (I promise it's super interesting & I can provide you with links to free pdf copies of the entire Yu translation, i.e. the best one ever created, so feel free to ask!) & maybe also stop constantly stripping away all the nuance of Sun Wukong's character for the sake of either making him an entire asshole so your little meow meow can look completely innocent in comparison and/or making the monkey king's entire life & character revolve around said meow meow."

Like I get that fandom's supposed to be a kind of anything-goes environment, but one thing that honestly seems to be true of a lot of fandoms--and the western one for Sun Wukong & co. is certainly not immune from this--is that there often seems to be a kind of monoculturalization at work in what stories are created & what character interpretations are made popular. Across a multitude of fandoms, you frequently see basically nothing but the exact same tropes being made popular & even being insisted on for the canonical work (especially hasty redemption arcs & enemies to lovers these days), the exact same one-dimensional character types that characters from an original work keep getting shoved into, the exact same story beats, etc. And I get it to an extent, as fandom is generally a space where people just make art and fic for fun & without thinking too hard about it & without any pressure. 

This seems to, however, often unfortunately lead to the mentality that it’s your god-given right to do literally whatever you want with literally any cultural figure without even the slightest bit of thought put into their cultural, historical, and even religious context, even (and sometimes especially) when it comes to figures that are really important in a culture outside your own. For such figures--even if you first encounter them in a children’s cartoon--you should be a little more careful with what you do with them than you would with your usual Saturday morning line-up. It of course has to be acknowledged that there exists a whole pile of absolutely ridiculous & cursed pieces of media that are based on Journey to the West & that were produced in mainland China, but for your own education if nothing else I consider it good practice for those of us (myself certainly included) who aren’t part of the culture that produced JTTW to put more thought into how we might want to portray these characters so that at the very least (to pull some things I’ve seen from the jttw western fandom) we’re not turning a goddess of mercy into an evil figure for the sake of Angst(TM), or relegating other important literary figures into the positions of offensive stereotypes, or making broad claims about the source text & original characterizations of various figures that are blatantly untrue, or mocking heavenly deities because of what’s actually your misunderstanding of how immortality works according to Daoist beliefs. Yet while a lot of this is often due to people not even trying to understand the context these figures are coming from, I do want to acknowledge that the journey (lol reference) to understand even a fraction of the original cultural context can be a daunting one, especially since, as I’ve mentioned before, it can be really hard & even next to impossible to find good, accessible, & legitimate explanations in English of how, for example, the relationship between Sun Wukong and the Six-Eared Macaque is commonly interpreted in China & according to the Buddhist beliefs that define the original work. 

That is to say, I do think it’s an unfortunate, if unavoidable, part of any introduction of an original text into a culture foreign to its own for there to be sometimes a significant amount of misinterpretation, mistranslations, and false assumptions. There is, however, a big difference between learning from your honest mistakes, & doubling down on them while dismissing all criticism of your misinterpretation into that abstract category of “fandom drama.” The latter attitude is kind of shitty at best and horrifically entitled at worst. 

Plus, as I’ve discovered, there is a great deal of interest and joy to be drawn from keeping yourself open to learning aspects of these texts & figures that you weren’t aware of! I can say from my own experience that I’ve always really enjoyed & appreciated it when individuals on this site who come from a Chinese background--and who know much more about the cultural context of JTTW than me--have taken the time to explain its various aspects. It often leaves me feeling like woooooaaaahhhhhHHH!!!! as to how amazingly full of nuanced meaning JTTW is like dang no wonder it’s one of China’s Four Great Classical Novels. 

And I guess that right there is the heart of a lot of my own personal frustration and disappointment with the ways that fandoms often approach a literary work or other piece of media...like don’t get me wrong, a lot of the original works a fandom may grow around are just straight-up goofy & everyone’s aware of it & has fun with it, yet the trend of approaching what are often nuanced and multi-layered works in terms of how well they fit and/or can be shoved into pretty cliche ideas of Redemption Arc or Enemies to Lovers or Hero Actually Bad, Villain Actually Good etc...well, it just seems to cheapen and even erase even the possibility of understanding the wonderful complexity or even endearing simplicity that made these works so beloved in the first place. Again, I feel like I need to make it clear that I’m not saying fandom should be a space where people are constantly trying to one-up each other with their hot takes in literary analysis, but it would be nice and even beneficial to allow room for commentary that strives to approach these works in a multi-faceted way, analysis & interpretations that go against the popular fandom beliefs, & criticism of the work or even of fandom trends (yes it is in fact possible to legitimately love something but still be critical of its aspects) instead of immediately attacking people who try to engage in such as just being haters who don’t want anyone to have fun ever (X_X).   

----

Anyway, I know I didn’t cover even half of the stuff you brought up in the first place anon, but I don’t want any interested parties to this post to suffer too long through my text wall lol. I was asked to try my hand at illustrating Guanyin, but as with you I’m nowhere near as informed as I should be about her, so I want to do more research on her history and religious importance before I attempt a portrait. I’ll try my best, and do plan to pair that illustration with my own outsider’s attempt to summarize her character. From what little I do know I am in full agreement that her backstory is so incredibly amazing...just the fact that she literally eschewed the bliss of Nirvana to help all beings reach it, and even split herself into pieces in the attempt to do so (with Buddha granting her eleven heads and a thousand arms as a result)...man, I can see why she’s such a beloved & respected deity. 

----

 As for what western fandom commonly does with everyone’s favorite god-fighting primate...I can talk about this at length if there’s interest, but for this post I’ll just say that I guess one lesson from all of this is that for all the centuries that have passed since Journey to the West was first completed, literally no one drawing inspiration from the original tale in the west (lol) has come even slightly close to being able to equal or even capture half the extent of the nuance, complexity, religious, historical, and cultural aspects, and humor that define Wu Cheng'en's story of an overpowered monkey who defied even Buddha.

So thank the heavens we'll always have the original.

[itsclydebitches]

Hi Clyde! I know this might be a bit late to the conversation but I just wanted to ask if you think M&K are writing Yang through a male lens? Not in the sense she's hyper-sexualised, but in the sense she lashes out at her allies without consequences (Fiona), has little empathy for female survivors of abuse (Salem and Blake) and gives her loved ones the cold shoulder when she doesn't agree with them rather than trying to reach an understanding (Blake and Ren).

Hi there, anon! No one is ever late to the conversation around here, not when I'm forever answering months-old asks lol

On the whole I would say no, simply because - as many others have pointed out in regards to other posts - this behavior is by no means seen solely in Yang. Ruby is out there lashing out in Volume 6, Jaune was giving Ren the same cold shoulder, no one else has expressed any empathy for the abuse survivors lately (though Yang might actually have a point in her favor there, given her talk with Weiss in Volume 5, when she learns about her mom's drinking). My point being, pretty much everyone is written with this classic masculine lens right now, where being angry, violent, and dismissive are framed as the correct way to approach problems, whether we're talking about Weiss shoving her weapon in Whitley's face, or Nora coolly brushing aside Ren's concerns. The exceptions being, to my mind, Ren - who learned this season that considering a kinder, more strategic approach is wrong - and Oscar who is embodying the archetype of the innocent child so fully that it allows him to forgive/grant absolution outside of the bounds of the story's internal logic and gendered expectations. Him reaching out to Hazel, Emerald, and even Ozpin is less a commentary on gender and more an extreme upholding of his status as the youngest and, comparatively, most innocent (which, as said previously, bumps up against Ruby's same, former status). Think Harry Potter, destroying evil with the love in his skin as an 11yo by merely touching Quirrel's face, not an older teenager hurling a dark curse at Malfoy while overflowing with rage. Oscar is still very much in that initial stage of being the young, baby-faced character who is not yet jaded and is thus able to overcome evil purely by wishing it so. Yet everyone else, including Yang, gets by on lies, secrets, violence, and anger - no matter how much the story wants to dress it up as heroics. So Yang is by no means alone in that.

What does interest me regarding Yang characterization right now is not, strictly speaking, about Yang. Rather, it’s about the presumed relationship with Blake and how changes to Blake’s character have reflected back on Yang. I won’t go into a full, eight season analysis of it here, but suffice to say, Blake’s personality has taken a sharp dive lately, most notably in the most recent volume. She used to be an opinionated, outspoken woman, the kind of person who marched up to Weiss in the middle of the street to denounce her family’s slavery, fighting for her people with as much intensity in a conversation as she gave on the battlefield. This is the woman who stormed off in anger at Weiss’ racism, demanded a solemn oath from Yang if she was going to believe her about the Mercury fight, rallied an army to defend Haven, set her own house on fire to defend her parents... I could go on. Blake used to only be quiet when it came to settling down with a good book. Now she’s far more meek and submissive. She’s been reduced to blushing prettily at Yang’s praise, begging Ruby to save her, going along with Yang’s plans for betrayal because she’s scared about killing again, clasping Ruby’s hands to assure her that she’ll save them all, etc. I use the term “reduced” intentionally because, on their own, there’s nothing wrong with any of these traits. If anything, Blake should be a more well-rounded character for being able to collapse crying over Adam, or go tongue-tied at a compliment. The problem lies in replacing her original personality with this new one: softer, less confrontational, less skilled, no longer as determined, no longer as angry, keeping to the background to play at comic relief or the damsel in distress. I bring all this up because - within the comparatively slim queer rep we’ve gotten in media - there’s a long history of writing them so that one is clearly the “man” in the relationship and the other is clearly the “woman.” This extends from visual markers like dividing them between assumed masculine and feminine clothing preferences - who wears dresses and who can pass for a boy in a baseball hat and sweats? - to caching in on equally assumed personality traits - who is the calm and compassionate individual; who has the temper and is constantly itching for a fight? To use two examples, think of couples like Sapphire and Ruby, or Kurt and Blaine. One is a cool blue in flowy dresses, always working to be sensible, while the other is an angry red in a sensible shirt and pants, easily pissed off. One is practicing a version of Beyoncé's “Single Ladies” in a sequined leotard, framed as the lady, whereas the other sings “Teenage Dream” in a suit at the piano, a song meant to appeal to the teenage girls watching, no matter the character’s sexuality. I’m simplifying a LOT here, including the context for the times (Glee) and the ways in which this divide is sometimes flipped (Ruby and Sapphire’s wedding), but my point is that whether authors realize it or not, they often force their queer characters into the gender binary, even while they’re supposedly meant to be challenging those norms. Blake and Yang, to get to a long-winded point, are becoming a part of that trend, wherein the closer they get to becoming a canonical couple, the more classically feminized Blake becomes. That, in turn, positions Yang as the “man” of the relationship. Already embodying some of those assumptions with her tough personality and brawl fight style, Blake’s regression into someone in need of rescue, someone less likely to speak up, someone who is visually positioned as less confident and in need of emotional care (think of her drooped ears and inability to make eye contact in “Ultimatum)” only increases that reading, especially given arcs like Yang’s insistence that she doesn’t need anyone protecting her, morphing into her becoming Blake’s protector instead. Yes, the dialogue states that they protect each other, but we all know RWBY struggles to show what the characters claim. Scenes like Yang arriving on a badass motorcycle to fight the majority of the battle against Adam, ending with her cradling a sobbing Blake who promises to never leave her side, or confidently taking Blake’s cheek in hand to comfort her after their not-fight, a moment of confidence and (unneeded) forgiveness... this all speaks volumes of something RWBY doesn’t think is there. So I don’t believe it’s intentional and, as said, there are a lot of complexities to take into account here, but I nevertheless don’t think it’s a coincidence that we’ve lost so much of Blake’s original personality right around the time the show got more serious about their relationship. As a presumed queer couple, there’s an instinctual desire to figure out which is the “guy” and which is the “girl” in the relationship, with Yang being positioned as the former the more Blake changes to fit the latter. 

[onewomancitadel]

WOW. Incredible response. I havent read your fic yet but now I am seriously considering it. I walked into this blog thinking Jaune/Cinder was just some weird crack ship. I believed all the typical stuff I see you mention like "she 2 evul theres no way!" lol but as I continued reading I slowly started to realize that this ship made sense. A LOT of sense. Im still trying to overcome my "you cant date a villain" programming but your posts are peeling back the layers of my biases. Again, thank you.

(Context).

This is a lovely message, thank you! I'm very glad you enjoyed my response. Most of all, whether or not you agree with what I say here, I just hope you enjoy figuring things out on your own and come to your own conclusions.

The reason why I take issue with that idea of 'you can't date a villain' er, programming, as you say, is because I think it's an idea taken for granted that doesn't appreciate what an individual story be trying to say... and I think trying to unpack some of our assumptions about the way stories should work is interesting. I am a big fan of R/WBY, for instance, and I wonder what it is about my background that makes me different from others who really don't like, say - let's get polemic here - Penny or Ironwood's character arcs.

So, I think that if you come to your own conclusions and draw your own boundaries about what you're comfortable with in fiction and you still don't like villains, redemption arcs, or - anything, really - you are more than allowed to do that, and you certainly don't need my permission to do so to begin with.

On the other hand, I really appreciate you taking the time to read my blog and respectfully interact with me, even if we're not necessarily working on the same wavelength (or might be working towards that? lol), and I was (and am) more than happy to elaborate on my ideas - particularly when sometimes things that are obvious to me are not necessarily obvious to you. I can point you to posts that might be helpful (if I can find them) and tags, or I am happy to expand as well... I am actually very happy to interact with people, and getting a good anon is really fun to respond to.

The question of Jaune/Cinder as a rarepair as opposed to a crackship is something we've discussed before, and I've had an anon before say very recently to me that they believed the same thing:

Oh yeah, we have had the crackship vs. rarepair debate before (and somewhere back September last year I responded to an ask by redhoodhungergames about Knightfall as a rarepair but I can't find it), and the linguistic evolution of conflating rarepair with crackship meanwhile crackships nevertheless take on fandom precedence due to panfandom baggage (e.g. searching to insert the same archetypes irrespective of canon context and pairing them together even if wholesale inventing most of the characterisation).

So, that's rather interesting... once you see and don't just look...

Nyeheheheh.

Personally I feel on this level Jaune/Cinder works as a successful twist, which whether or not it's in everybody's personal favour, has strong motivation in favour for it. (Or, let's say that Knightfall being controversial might be a reason in favour for it).

Regarding my fic, you are welcome to read it ('it' being my longfic, but there are others on my profile... you may not want to get to those first though lol) but do spare me if you don't enjoy it. (; There's no pressure though, and really I just wanted to emphasise that I don't think of myself as a professional meta writer, and also that I genuinely struggled to intellectually articulate 'why' they ought to love each other... it's something very emotional to me.

Also, from what I've been told and the vibe I get from my readers, my fic doesn't exactly follow the form of other R/WBY fics, and that can be a good or a bad thing depending on individual taste. I'm not trying to make it sound more than it is, just if you have certain expectations, it might be affronting. I'm not trying to sound pretentious or anything or make it sound like more than it is, but why I'm wary about recommending my work at all is because a) it's intensely personal and b) I don't read other R/WBY fic and come from a literary background and really emphasise the mythic/fairytale/literary elements of R/WBY. So, what you see here about the way I talk about R/WBY canon definitely influences my writing.

I am definitely happy to expand on any more topics, I did link you the Knightfall masterpost and I can talk about other R/WBY ships if that would help.

Now, on a more specific point about Cinder being too evil: that's the really interesting part because Knightfall is linked to Cinder's redemption arc. So to understand Knightfall you need a coherent theory of redemption and redemption in R/WBY. I don't read this romance as happening independently of her redemption arc, so anything I say under my Cindemption tag is equally applicable to how one needs to view Knightfall. I enjoy the idea that Cinder's meant to be the Fall Maiden (redeeming our perspective of the power - as more than just a powerlevel - through her perspective), and Jaune's meant to finally help (and fall in love with) this Fall Maiden... just not the one you thought. It's bittersweet, but it ends on a hopeful note.

Knightfall is the thematic lynchpin to everything I think is valuable and interesting and at the heart of R/WBY, from Ozlem to the Maiden power to how the heroes will prevail and what it means to be heroic... it's one part of the picture, for sure, it's not the Jaune and Cinder Show, but I think that's part of what makes the ship really beautiful, the fact it's this essential connection against an epic backdrop.

I can never predict if something goes wrong in the story, but I do feel satisfied that things I thought were going to happen have happened in the show based on the way I intuited them... so they do have some sense of coherent storytelling and foreshadowing. The reason I bring up Penny and Ironwood is because I felt those story points were self-evident and flagged very effectively, and thematically justified... cue me logging onto Tumblr and seeing otherwise lol. So, I feel like I have some understanding of the show and why it does things the way it does, and that's why I feel taking other Jaune or Cinder ships for granted is terribly dangerous, because I've seen other things taken for granted - like Penny becoming a new main character and joining the cast and having Friendship Hijinks - that ended in a lot of intense personal pain for people. Similarly to them, though, I would never want to lead anybody astray (not that they did, but I am talking about some stuff that is very emotionally... touching, let's say), and so that's why I think coming to your own conclusion is necessary. And more fun. (:

It is very interesting to receive this ask because yes, I've had a few people say as much as you're saying, and what I'm personally wondering is how the show seeks to accomplish this (this potential change of opinion). As a Cinder fan for a long time, it's been interesting to see more sympathy for her after V8, for instance. I would say now is as good a time as any to be a Cinder fan, which is really saying something for how bad it used to be lol.

As I said, Knightfall would be a crazy twist (so would Cindemption for those who don't see it coming) and it would recontextualise their characters together... and to me I think really justify both of them lol. So there's a lot wrapped up in it that's really interesting.

Thanks again for your lovely ask and hope you have a good day. Thank you for your genuine interest and being so considerate! <3 <3