#i know I said sorry in this post a lot but apologies if anything is worded weird or wrong

[shizucheese]

So about that Dropout Tweet...

There's a common trend in influencer/ content creator apologies, where the person doing the apology will say they are sorry for the harm that they did, claim they are taking ownership of it and using the whole situation to become a better person, etc. etc. Usually in a way that makes it sound suspiciously like it was written by ChatGPT.

And then they'll go on to say something along the lines of "But we've been getting a lot of death threats guys, and that's bad!" As if the fact that they're getting death threats somehow absolves them of at least some of the guilt of whatever it is that made the apology necessary in the first place. As if it means they're the real victims here.

Apparently Dropout decided to just skip the "ChatGPT apology" part and jump straight to the "We're getting physcal and legal threats" part. Followed up with them once again saying they support Palestiniens and ending it with "We reject antisemitism, Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry, and welcome all to our platform who treat others with respect, empathy, and human dignity."

And they did it on Twitter, and only Twitter. You know, the website that's notoriously overrun by Nazis. Nothing on Tumblr or Instagram, where the original statement that sparked all of this (which has since been taken down) were posted.

@dropoutdottv, @samreich, this is not listening to the Jewish members of your community who are speaking out about antisemitism. This is reinforcing the antisemitism that those Jewish members of the community are speaking out about. Because what this Tweet does is paint everyone who spoke out against the antisemitism in your original post with the same brush as the people who were sending you threats.

Which, let me be clear, they should not have been doing and I wholeheartedly condemn.

But the actions of the people sending you threats of violence and threats of legal action do not invalidate the things being said by the people who haven't threatened you with anything worse than a boycott. I have literally seen people say "the fact that they got threats just proves they were right." Is that the outcome you were trying to achieve with this?

People who did bad things get death threats all the time; refer back to the beginning of this post. Does that make their critics wrong then, too? Or is it only now, when the accusation being made is that a nerdy comedy network beloved by people on the left did an antisemitism?

I honestly can't tell if you have no publicist helping you out with one, a bad publicist that needs to give you your money back, or an evil genius publicist that knew that if you made a post like this one, it would distract from the fact that you're being accused of antisemitism, maybe even act as a dog whistle to to paint anyone who accuses you of being antisemitic of being "Zionists" (meant in the derogatory way, where people claim they're only talking about people who uncritically support the Israeli government and their actions in Gaza, but then in practice will use it against anyone who believes Israel has the right to exist, including those who want a two state solution, whose hearts break for the people in Palestine, and call Netanyahu a fascist and probably want him gone more than even the people calling them "zionists" do). Maybe even make up for all of the subscriptions you're losing over this and even gain a few by catering to the antisemitic leftist crowd.

Is that really the kind of culture you want to cultivate? If not, then do better. Acknowledge the Jewish voices that are speaking out. Listen to them. And do it in a way that doesn't bring up any other marginalized group. Because like...fuck, man, I reject Islamophobia, and all forms of bigotry too. And I'm sorry you guys are receiving threats; that truly does suck and I hope everyone that works for you guys are staying safe.

But you're specifically being accused of antisemitism. Can you really not reject it all on its own without including other forms of bigotry in the same statement?

And do it on a platform that *isn't* run by an infamous antisemitic, and overrun by more antisemitics? (You can turn off comments and reblogs on Tumblr and comments on instagram, in the same way you disabled replies on your Tweet, you know.)

Here, I'll even write the statement for you: "Earlier this week, we made a statement regarding accusations that Dropout was platforming zionists. At the time, we made a statement focusing on our support of the Palestinian people. We stand by this statement. However, we have received feedback from several members of our community that some of the things that we said were inappropriate insensitive to the Jewish people. "Zionist" and "Zionism" mean different things to different people, ranging from "people who support the Israeli government's actions in Gaza" to "people who believe that Israel has a right to exist and the Jewish people have the right to self-determination." We had meant it in the context of the former definition, but we understand that many Jewish people identify with the later, including many people who are disgusted by the Israeli government's actions in Gaza, and we should have been more sensitive to this fact. Additionally, we would like to reiterate that, to our knowledge, nobody who has appeared on Dropout has openly stated support for the Israelie's actions in Gaza, and several of those accused have voiced their support for a free Palestine. We would like to take this moment to remind everyone that just because a person is Jewish, and may have ties to Israel, does not inherently mean they condone the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, and to suggest otherwise is antisemitic. We at Dropout reject all forms of antisemitism and are committed to providing a safe space to everyone regardless of religion or ethnic background. We apologize if we made the Jewish members of our community feel like that was not the case."

See how easy that was? I feel something like this is the bear minimum, and if you had said the things in the last three paragraphs from the start, you could have avoided having to say everything in the first two paragraphs and the apology at the end.

That's...pretty much everything I have to say on the matter. To anyone reading this: Do not use other Jewish people to silence Jewish voices.

Do not use people of other marginalized groups to silence Jewish voices.

Just...maybe just listen to what we have to say without twisting our words and putting words in our mouths? Maybe?

Thanks for reading.

I'm so tired.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

Onstage

What - it's nothing to panic about, Lori's secret pregnancy, Shane's changes for the worse, Sophia gone for over a week, and now a barn full of walkers. It's fine. No big deal, nothing is wrong, so you're gonna step onstage and act like it. On the bright side, Daryl isn't stuck in a bed anymore!

When - the morning after Keep this dog asleep. (the night where Glenn discovers the barn in Season 2)

Who - this is part of the Slowpoke Series, which is a canon compliant slow burn Reader x Daryl. You're also Shane's younger sibling

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - a few cusses, panic, bad screenshots

References - lots, y'all, want the Masterlist?

Length - longer bc I've been awol, I've been dreading posting again, friends, so thank you much for reading. Kind feedback is always welcome :)

“Goodness. You two slept together.”

“Wha—Carol!” you squeak, accidentally splashing some coffee on your hands while you’re at it, to which Carol apologizes, “Oops!”

Glenn and you fell asleep beside each other, by the fire pit. You two must have conked out while staring at the barn.

Brr, the sun hasn’t warmed the day yet, you’re like an ice-pop.

“Wh’appened?” Glenn mumbles, still half-asleep in Dale’s camp chair.

Carl, freshly freed from the house and now officially back to the tents, also wanted to know, “What was the joke?”

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” Carol whispers in your ear and wipes the coffee off your hand with a tissue she had in her pocket.

That ship has sailed, Carol!

Lori smiles and shakes her head, and hands Glenn a coffee cup. “Carol was teasing them about having spent the night out here. Must’ve stayed up far too late having fun.”

“‘Fun,’” Glenn groans to himself, blindly nursing his coffee. You notice he winces and reaches for the back of his neck when he tries to bend it forward. Must’ve slept on it wrong.

“How late did you guys stay up?”

“I don’t even know, little man,” you answer Carl while reaching out for a hug. “But ‘far too late’ sure is correct.”

He returns your reach and hugs you back, tucking his head down across your neck like he used to when he was little. You press a kiss to his temple and hold him awhile longer, not wanting to let go first.

It’s good to have started the day on an up-note. You’re already on guard this morning. Less so about the genuine, bona-fide barn full of walkers on the property and moreso that Glenn won’t keep the secret long enough.

Which is backwards, but…the worry is that Shane will, um, and, and— oh God, and Carl can’t go near it! What are you gon—

“—Here, Maggie left these for you two.” Lori has returned and plunks down what resembles an Easter basket filled with peaches.

“Wait, should you be lifting heav—” Glenn cuts himself off, apparently having woken up a brain cell and remembering the pregnancy is still a secret.

You run onstage and speak up for Lori. “That’s how her arms stay so toned. Can you believe she hand-whipped the cream for the ambrosia?” Solid improv.

Lori seems to tamp down on whatever frustration she’s feeling. “It’s not heavy, Glenn.”

“Mom can lift so much, that puny basket of peaches is nothing,” Carl tells him, apparently thinking Glenn was being silly.

Rattled, it takes a moment before Lori recalls what she was talking about. “Maggie also gave us a bucket filled with tomatoes along with another big bowl of eggs. We have to find a way to thank them. They’ve done so much.” She sighs. “Even last night, we cooked the meal, but they provided the food. Meat, even. All we contributed food-wise was the field green salad and the two cans of creamed corn.”

You’ve got to keep it to yourself that by not revealing the Greene’s massive secret about a barn full of walkers, you’re certainly giving them some kind of fucked up recompense.

And like you said last night, there are worse things to be bribed with than food. In fact, you have no immediate plans to do anything other than sit here, miserably tired, in T-Dog’s camp chair and stress-eat peaches — and stick close to Glenn lest he get the urge to open Pandora’s box about that barn.

“Carl, Miss Patricia hopefully mentioned how the barn is unstable? They won’t even go near it, and we are forbidden.” You swipe a peach and have at it. The juice dribbles down your hand and chin. Carl smirks. You snort; at least he’s seen you look grosser. So, in a very ladylike fashion, you shove the rest of it in your mouth in one bite and immediately swipe another. “There’s some kind of vermin problem, too, and you don’t want none of them diseases rats and the like carry. Keep away.”

Mid-chew, you realize that you just lied flawlessly by slipping in truth. You’re not big on lying. In fact, you hate it. You don’t do it, or, at least you think you don’t? Do you?

This and the weight of last night’s inward decision that you made sits heavy in your stomach, making the peach sink like a rock.

You’re going to leave, with your brother. Shane can’t stay here, not when the news of the baby and now the barn gets out. You’ll even go to Fort Benning despite all your misgivings. Anything to keep things from imploding here when those secrets get out. Not, um, not that you’ll stay away forever from the group, just until, um…

Well, if looks are any indication, Glenn’s also busy being miserably tired and stressed. He was the one to discover the barn’s secret, first off. And he’s not good with secrets, and now has three to contend with. The pregnancy, Shane losing his temper and physically hurting you. And now, the stupid, stupid, awful barn.

“Did your head flop down when you fell asleep, Glenn?”

“It must’ve, it’s so stiff!” he mutters. “I can’t have a stiff neck when the…”

Smart, he knows not to finish the sentence and instead resumes warily eyeing the barn. You’re grateful your neck is fine and dandy, you’re in no fit state to mess up your neck or shoulder again. For real, by the grace of God, you’d fallen asleep nestled in T-Dog’s camp chair and your neck stayed blessedly straight and untwisted.

“We search for Sophia in groups, it’s all good,” you cover for him. Carl is still next to you, so the fewer questions, the better.

Maybe it’s the lack of sleep, but you’re restless. Seeking something to busy your hands with, you think to yourself you know what? Your friend could use a massage. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do, considering you slept together (lol).

Shoving the rest of the second peach in your mouth, you consider that slurping the juice off your hand may be a mite untoward, so instead you…wipe it on the clothes you wore all day yesterday and fell asleep in…such a feminine, classy woman. Didn’t even brush your teeth last night.

Whatever, a neck and shoulder rub is the least you can do for a friend you may not see again. “Glenn, I can do you a massage,” you offer.

“Wait. Really?”

“’Course.” Let’s face it, you may not see him again after you leave. Maybe no one here, just look at the track record of losing peop — oh my gosh, crybaby much? Get your butt back onstage and act fine.

“Can you, with your arm still wrapped like that?” he checks regarding your modified sling.

“Sure can.”

“Dude, that would be, like,” Glenn sighs, then you hear Lori call for Carl, who gets up and goes to his mother. “Thank you, that would be awesome, it hurts really bad,” your friend accepts.

“Eh, it’s the least I could do, considering last night we did,” pause for dramatic effect, “sleep together.”

“What the f—”

“—Bro, I know.," you drone. "That’s what Carol joked about a few minutes ago. Didn’t expect that joke outta her, right?”

“Slept together, now I get it,” he cracks up halfheartedly. But in an instant, his gaze gets drawn right back toward the barn and resettles into uneasy, blatant stare.

That rattles you. Suddenly, you become convinced he’s gonna spill the beans before the one week (at least one week!) trial. For a few moments, you feel breathless, as in you can’t inhale enough. That happened last night, too, you figured it was because of the cold air.

You cough, inhale extra deep. The sensation goes away. But now you’re starting to get mad. As you rise from the chair, you’re more than conscious of your inner kettle beginning to simmer. Not gonna lie, you sound snotty when you comment, “Glad to see they didn’t learn how to jump as high as a hayloft and find their way out yet.”

“Y/N.”

In lieu of any new comeback, you start on his neck. Immediately and likely without meaning to, he lets out a thankful groan. That warms you, and you remind yourself he’s worried for a good reason and that you love your friend.

And, strangely, then you think back to how you did this for Daryl, gave him a massage. How pleasant the closeness felt, how strange it made your stomach feel. How he’d silently cried but was vulnerable enough to ask you not to stop…

And with the jokes about you and Glenn, you’re feeling some unpleasantly conflicting emotions. Full disclosure, you’d had some hidden and very unwelcome hurt feelings when you found out about him and Maggie. Residual, you reckon, from when you’d two had a little fondness (lol Dale) for each other.

Really, you know it’s just that you’re lonely and things are stressful. Ugh, more than stressful.

“Wanna kick the ball around later with the others, see if the girls can’t beat y’all this time?” Together, Jimmy and he have been an unbeatable team so far, and you three girls want to change that.

“Anything to make the pharmacy trip suck less.”

You’d forgotten all about that. It’s supposed to feature none other than Glenn, Maggie, yourself, and maybe T-Dog. “That’s still on?”

Glenn shrugs. “I don’t remember. And I don’t want to go today, let’s do it tomorrow or Monday.”

“Fine by me. Naught dire we need yet.”

He unexpectedly exhales in pleasure when you must’ve hit a spot he needs worked out.“I haven’t gotten a massage since, like,” your friend sighs again, and he sounds weighed down when he continues. “Varsity baseball in high school. Appa was really good at shoulder rubs.”

“Oh.” A memory about his dad might will probably spark a whole lot of memories, and he’s still iffy about crying in front of people. “Want me to stop?”

“Heck no.”

“Are you cool with crying? Massages sometimes do that,” you hesitate.

“What do you mean?”

“I meant the act itself can make folk cry sometimes.” Especially if memories get brought up.

“Make ‘folk’ cry?” he teases. "You already used the word 'naught,' too, bumpkin."

You pause the massage to give him a very light shove. “Shut up.”

Breakfast is eggs again, you can smell them cooking. The Greenes have been very generous with eggs. And, of course, now extra-generous with the peaches and some tomatoes, apparently. Maybe the thrill of yellow squash or string beans is in the future, too.

Ooh, or dairy. Oh my gosh, or red meat! Jimmy mentioned they’ve made a ton of jerky what with all their cattle.

“G’morning,” you hear Shane behind you.

“Heya.”

“Morning, Shane.”

The razzing is clear in his tone of voice, but try telling that to Glenn as your brother says, “Lookin’ cute, you two. Didn’t know this was a thing now, I thought that ship had sailed.”

Yeahhhhh, Glenn wriggles away from your hands quicker than you can whine, “Shaney!” who simply cracks up, “Just teasing.”

“I’ll tease your face,” you wish you weren’t snickering back. “And you know my heart belongs to darling Theodore,” you add in an exaggerated accent.

T-Dog, unfortunately, hears, and utters a soft “Da hell?” aaand you cackle even harder. Surely he knows the not-so-secret secret that you think he’s a catch? Too old for you, but, like. What a gem.

“Glenn, my apologies.” Shane winks. “It’s too easy to rile this one up. And Dog, don’t worry.”

“It’s cool,” Glenn answers so awkwardly.

You scrunch your lips at your brother in an effort not to smile. He’s acting like himself again, the real Shane. You don’t feel as if you’re looking at a stranger, you don’t feel the urge to stay on-guard or stay onstage. “Proud of yourself?”

He shrugs with a lazy grin. “It is real easy to rile you up.”

“Mmhm, well I’m fixing to escape to Fort Benning right now, lemme just wash up first.” You insert this little seed in hope it takes root. He was planning to go there before things changed.

He was planning to go without your input or foreknowledge, too, but he was doing what he thought was best for the group. For Lori and Rick.

Until he didn’t anymore, according to what he said to Lori.

That night, the same day Daryl had almost died, was something else.

The things he said to Lori echo in your head, the confident flirting while she was visibly unreceptive and shaken.

Then you recall the way he’s been “pragmatic” and almost irritated about the continuing search for Sophia.

Then the way he blew up at you, hurt you.

And finally, how your first reaction to finding out there was a barn filled with walkers a mere one minute trek from where your people are sleeping in tents was to insist that the secret must be kept from Shane at all costs. That the secret had to stay that way because of what would happen if Shane found out.

Maybe it’s from sleeping too close to the campfire or because it was so chilly last night, but the breathing trouble is back. It's fine, this happened last night, it ended up being fine. You cough a few times to try and inhale more deeply and ease the tightness in your chest, but you feel strange and a little nauseous. Maybe you're coming down with something.

“Lemme take over here — aw, Glenn, hey, sit back on down,” Shane insists to your friend who just tried to escape. “Heard you slept on your neck wrong. That shit stinks, man. But,” he holds out his hands and wiggles his fingers. “I got so much practice with massages from this one’s migraines, I might should switch careers. C’mon then,” he says lightheartedly.

The unease you just wrestled with lessens. This is the real Shane, the confident, even cocky, but goodhearted one.

Ooo, your breathing feels a little better, too. Cool!

He looks at you and points with his thumb toward the house. “The uh, the little one, what’s the blonde girl’s name again?”

“Soph—oh! Um, sorry, y-you mean ‘Beth,’” you stammer, all the mirth from a moment ago zapped.

The look in your brother’s eyes changes from easygoing to dampened to cold.

He tries to sound nonchalant behind a thin veil of both defense and offense. “Yeah, the, uh, the teenager. She asked for you.”

“Okay. Thanks.” You’d be off like a shot if there wasn’t another potential time bomb to worry about.

Glenn.

To your friend, you assure in truth, “He does give a mighty solid massage.” But when you lean over enough for him to see your face, you can feel your eyes darken when you hold the finger to your lips and set your jaw.

And as you make toward the house with your coffee and another two peaches, you’re grappling with the fact that, in an effort to keep Glenn quiet so everything won’t blow to pieces, you’re behaving not unlike the very person that you’re trying to prevent from igniting the explosion in the first place.

Another worry is the way you so easily slipped in and out of being onstage.

You’ve always been one to insist on truth and honesty. It’s a badge of honor you wear with pride, and even Daryl, prickly grump Daryl, has mentioned it and appreciates that about you.

And yet, look at your conduct over the past week or so. You can certainly lie, and be believable at it. You don’t like that.

Oh, gross, you’re getting nauseous again.

As you near the porch, Beth’s soft, clear voice calls your name, and she exits the house to meet you. “I got somethin’ for you. Can you come upstairs?”

“Sure. Your dress is cute!” comes out automatically. You’re still dazed and stressed. Her sundress really is pretty, though. Briefly, you consider how it would be nice to feel feminine again.

She leads you up the stairs, and it strikes you how odd it is that you have to go upstairs for whatever she’s going to give you, right? Then, you worry that it’s to do with the barn.

And you’re right.

Or, at least, you think you are. Maggie is upstairs when Beth brings you there.

The tightness comes back, so you focus on your breathing and will your stomach to chill out. You're onstage, you need to perform.

“Y/N, hi!” Margaret says this a little overly chipper, even though her appearance suggests that she’s had about as much shut-eye as you, if not less. “Sleep okay?”

“A-About as well as you, I reckon,” you answer with a hint of humor and only a trace of a stress stutter. Buying time with a few more coughs, before you get too defensive, you play it off as if Beth does not know that you and Glenn know. “We stayed up far too late and ate way too many peaches,” you say the girl. Which is the truth, you aren’t lying! You aren't lyi — nope, don't you cry! Stay onstage, stay onstage, stay onstage—

—As it so happens, now is when you recall how you are currently carrying two peaches in your hand, so your cheeks heat. The urge to cry goes away, so small win. “I ate way too many, at least.”

Beth giggles. “I love peaches, too. I had peach cobbler as my birthday cake two years ago. The ones we grow are so good!”

“Thank you for the basket of food, by the way, it was very kind.” Very kind bribery, please keep it up, we haven’t had this much available food in months, in fact, we’ll probably do anything you ask us if you let us stay here!

“There’s plenty more where the peaches came from. The season’s almost over, but we still have bushels left to pick, the hens haven’t slowed production yet, and we’re almost out of canning supplies we’ve done so many,” Maggie responds.

Beth is opening a big trash bag on her bed that looks like it’s filled with blankets, so Maggie takes the opportunity to lock eyes with you again. She mouths, “Thank you.”

For not saying anything? “She doesn’t know we know?” you mouth back.

She shakes her head.

You relax muscles you didn’t know you were tensing.

“Yay, I got it open without rippin' it!” Beth exclaims. “Y/N, Maggie and I had gathered up a bunch of clothes for charity, but that’s when things got, w-well,” she halts, unsure of how to describe the outbreaks. “The bad things happened, but, um, we, well we still had all the donations bagged. Daddy and Shawn also…” She quiets at mentioning her deceased older brother and turns weepy.

Her big sister finishes for her. “Shawn donated clothes, too. And Mom.” She swallows. “There’s plenty to share with your group, is what she means.” Maggie nods her head at the bag on the bed, then to two others on the floor.

They're sharing...all of those?

You don’t get a chance to ask it because Beth is already answering. “When I saw how y’all looked, it was scary. The,” she starts, then stops. “Not that you were scary, I meant y’all must’ve been out there a long time. It’s scary to think about.”

“In your defense, I did look scary the first time you saw me.” Wild hair, sweat-drenched, sobbing, and covered in Carl’s and your own blood. Rough day.

But having been ‘out there,’ as Beth worded it, it’s not so scary when you’re with a group you trust. It even feels comforting to have them all. Which is when you consider how Shane and you will be back out there in a couple weeks, alone.

“Here.” Beth shyly points to the bag. “I wanted to offer for you to look through the bags first. If, if you want.”

The offer is (more) bribery to keep you quiet, which cools the warmth of the charity, but doesn't lessen the grateful tears you spill. Plus, yes, you all could use some fresh clothes, there’s only so much mending that can be done. And to be offered first dibs, even if it’s just to butter you up, is still being offered first dibs. “I’d love to take a look, thank you,” you say in earnest.

Beth combs through the bag and chats in her shy manner, handing you a barely-worn, calf-length dress that had been gift for Maggie, then a (pure wool?!) cardigan their mother had been giving away.

You find it hard to believe that she’s doing this as bribery, Beth doesn’t seem the sort to easily conceal things. She’s got an innocence that hits as genuine.

But, then again, you who hate dishonesty are apparently great at it. Who’s to say she’s not, too?

The breathlessness briefly comes back. You clear your throat and cough once.

Beth next, to your apprehension and then delight, has you try on the dress and cardigan (which shockingly fit). While retying the modified sling around your upper arm, Maggie keeps trying to catch your eye again in order to, you don’t know, communicate something via meaningful glance? But you don’t have the bandwidth for it, so return her look with a polite smile and shrug.

Her little sister then proceeds to gussy you up in a way reminiscent of how Amy did once at the quarry camp to see how Glenn would react. Gosh, was that only two-ish months ago, wasn’t it? Or has it been longer? It feels like so much more time has passed.

Beth has manages a quick, respectable braided style for your hair, touches up your eyebrows for you, and even adds blush. She then claims that your hiking boots “look okay” with the ensemble and has you use the full length mirror in her closet to inspect the full results.

The dress is lovely, you have to admit. The neckline doesn’t dip too low bonus that it doesn’t show your bruise, the waist is defined, and it’s long enough past your knees to be comfortable. The length also helps lessen the lingering apprehension you have about showing natural (*cough cough unshaven*) legs.

You actually feel…pretty. Been a while.

It’s as if she knew you were yearning to feel girly again. If this is bribery, you welcome it. Worse ways of being bribed than with fresh food and a makeover from a genuinely sweet kid. And hey, since you have to be onstage so much, might as well dress nicely for the audience.

When you’re walking downstairs to bring your people the donations, Maggie murmurs in your ear, “Y/N, I didn’t put her up to any of this, it was all her.”

When you pull away from her, she whispers insistently, “It wasn’t her bein’ nice to keep you quiet. Remember, she doesn’t kn—”

“—Good mornin’, girls. What’s in the bags?” Patricia’s voice calls from the bottom of the stairwell.

“We had some clothes to donate since before Easter,” Beth answers. “I figured they could use ’em.”

“They certainly could. I’m glad I have plenty I brought from my house when we moved in.” You can see Miss Patricia in the hallway by the stairs, clearly wearing one of her late husband’s shirts over her dress. Her brows lift. “Seems you dolled your friend up some. You clean up nice, sweetpea!”

“Thank you, ma’am. I-I do feel like a lady again,” you allow, your cheeks again warming.

“Never stopped being one, as far as I’m concerned. Always kept your Ps and Qs,” she’s kind enough to maintain. “Oh, speaking of ladies, I don’t know how y’all are doing on girls’ supplies, but we should have enough to share while you’re still with us.”

“Margaret and I were gonna look for some more on the next drug store run tomorrow or Monday to make sure you’ll well stocked.” Along with everything else on the list(s) that was forgotten when those two…got distracted.

Ugh, how different things would be if you’d gone along for that trip! None of this barn bullshit!

Again, you feel the need to cough to help you breathe better, so you cough twice and try clearing your throat.

“Uh-oh, sounds like cold and flu season is well on it’s way,” she muses. “Don’t let me keep you holding them bags all day, girls. It’ll be funny watchin’ your daddy react if one of them ends up dressed in his giveaways,” the woman comments wryly. “Now, I did intend to check on those stitches today, Y/N, so come see me later. Hersh is just finishing up with Daryl’s, in fact, then he’ll be all set to go, if you were wantin’ to see him out.”

Oh, right! Today is finally the day he’s leaving that room!

Carl, too, but he’s already out and has been wandering around outside as much as his energy and mom will allow (which isn’t very much yet).

Daryl, on the other hand, has been too dizzy and too ashamed to do much more than a trip around the perimeter of the house.

Carol and you cleaned his tent yesterday as a surprise. It was her idea, of course. She enlisted your help specifically because you twice mentioned not thinking his sweat smelled bad, which is weird, but, for real, it doesn’t smell bad to you. The cigarettes, on the other hand, ew.

“Are we not going today?” Maggie asks quietly about the postponed pharmacy trip.

With tact, you suggest, “We could all use some rest after stayin’ up so late.”

She peers into your eyes, then nods and adjusts her hold on the two bags in her hands.“That’s a good idea. I’m not up to it, either.”

Upon stepping back outside onto the front porch, Jimmy and Glenn are kicking the soccer ball around already. Glenn is keeping his neck taut as he and Jimmy go back and forth, but the pain must have lessened.

The irresistible urge you have to make light of everything seizes you, and you leap into matchmaker mode because, why not? You won’t be here much longer, and maybe Maggie and Glenn linking up will lead to the rest being permitted to stay. That’s what matters.

Oh, and, uh, because you love Glenn, and Maggie is kind…oh fuck, are you just a calculating, cold strategist?

The feeling that you’re running out of air and going to vomit returns, but you push yourself onstage and commit to the role. You have to keep your shit together.

“Ain’t he handsome when he plays? Good sportsmanship and confidence rolled into one.” You playfully hold a smile back when you glance at Maggie and giggle to hide your heavy breathing. “Also the shiny hair.”

“He does have great hair,” she softly agrees.

“Y/N, do you and Glenn like each other? I-I thought…” Beth’s face has paled.

Maybe that’s why you over-act when you exclaim, “Of course I like him, that’s why I’m such a great wingwoman for him.”

Margaret blushes. “Let’s get these bags to their camp.”

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

“I can’t hunt?”

“You can do as you please,” the old man remarks. What, is he making fun of him? “But doing so while recovering from a concussion would be foolish, as would be heavy lifting or other strenuous activity, and that’s not considering your collarbone and ribs. I’m curious as to how you’d wield your weapon or plan bring back what you hunted, for one, if you even make it off the property without keeling over.”

Daryl bites his tongue and keeps his words to himself. Well, fine! I can still bring that little girl back. She’s got legs, she’ll be able to walk on her own.

Hershel cleans up his stuff and stands. “Now, then, I’m sure you’re ready to finally see yourself out.”

“Damn straight,” is probably not the smartest response in front of the old man, what with the cuss word, but damn straight he is ready to get the hell out of there. Still, he remembers his manners. “Thanks for everythin’.” He even holds out his hand for a shake. Which is dumb because the guy’s hands are full.

Daryl…puts his hand back down and grabs the few things he had in there with him. Y/N once described the Dr. Farmer as ‘unreadable.’ Definitely is that.

Unreadable, Hershel drawls, “It’s good you’re on the mend,” and inclines his head toward the door. “After you.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

Dude, you had a panic attack.

It wasn’t too too bad, all things considered. Initially, you’d thought it was a mild asthma attack, but in hindsight, wow you were oblivious to all of the signs.

It started to happen when some of the group was going through the clothes, right after Maggie and you dropped them off and she left to do choring.

Lori was beside you, low-key beside herself trying to figure out how your people could “ever repay the family now?”

Next, T-Dog joked about the sizes being too small for him. “Ain’t sure what here I could fit that won’t result in a show for y’all.”

This is when Andrea murmured to Carol, “Reminds me how it’s been awhile.” The way Carol reacted clued you in that it might have been a sex joke. Especially given the way Andy next gave your brother a once-over as if you weren’t right there. You vividly recall licking your teeth and rolling your eyes.

Then Shane — and he did this without having seen Andrea do the once-over — nudged T-Dog in the ribs and began to unbutton his own top. “Worse things than a show these days, friend. And that there clean shirt is calling my name.” Naturally, he proceeded to swap garments right where he stood.

Per usual, Lori was more graceful than you. She ignored it as if he were her own brother acting like a frat boy, and merely continued to sift through one of the bags. She smiled upon finding something, tapped Carol on the shoulder, and handed it to her.

It’s been a week now since Shane betrayal to her and Rick. Even you’re still figuring out how to see him. The hopeful part is that he’s been leaving Lori alone. If his sights have indeed turned to Andrea, all the better.

Back to the moment, then you imagined what if he and Andrea got a little too close, did something foolish, and she ended up pregnant, too. Not that Lori’s baby is Shane’s, the baby is Rick’s regardless, but...

The tight feeling returned in your chest.

It was in the midst of this that Dale complimented you. “Kiddo, you’re all gussied up! Any occasion?”

“Mmhm, all dressed up for the ‘show.’” The nausea was back, plus a fun new notion of being observed by unseen persons.

Dale just nodded with raised brows, and you and he shared a look. Instead of tempering your fears, it piqued them. It wasn’t his fault, but Mr. Horvath’s expression started to mirror the way he stared into your eyes after catching Shane lose his temper and leave you with a bruise on your sternum.

The fears within you, the stress, the dread, all started roiling stronger and stronger. You cleared your throat, then coughed, but it didn’t help and you felt restless and, oddly, cornered.

And so, not knowing where to look therefore looking in all directions, you happened to spy Glenn staring at the barn. Again.

The air felt too…thin? And then you noticed Lori examining the torso of one of the shirts in the bag as if testing it for stretchiness or room. You could see the shadows clouding her face right before she abruptly put the shirt down. Then, there was Carol, holding up something that had clearly must have been Beth’s a few years ago, and it looked as if it would fit Sophia perfectly now.

It was just about then that your lungs simply couldn’t keep up.

“Kiddo?” sounded in your ear.

You may have panted something to do with “puffer,” referring to your largely unused inhaler. At any rate, instead of next going to the logical location of the RV to find the med bag, you made for the treeline. You didn’t want anyone near you, didn’t want anybody to see you, didn’t want a fuss, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want anyone to even think about you, so you had to hide.

Panting, a numbness started to affect your fingers and spread to your torso and toes. You repeatedly coughed in an effort to break up whatever was making it hard to breathe. Once you started coughing, it dominoed. Your stitches were tugging at the forceful coughs, and soon, you were hacking. The hacking led to retching, one, two, three times. Tears started to fall.

“Baby, here,” came from your right and a warm, delicate hand touched the small of your back. Lori. She pressed the inhaler into your hand. “I shook it up, it’s all ready.”

Bending forward slightly to open your airways, you tried to exhale enough so you could take the dose properly as you clasped the trigger.

One puff. Hold breath in.

Your pulse thudded in your ears.

Another puff. Hold breath in.

The relief that usually comes with the medication wasn’t as apparent as it normally would be. It helped somewhat, but. You tried another dose.

More tears of frustration. You panted that you thought your were going to pass out. "F-Feels like m'gonna die," you may have also said.

Lori calmly instructed you to, “Try this with me, honey,” and slowly breathed in through her nose. You copied as best you could.

She then slowly breathed out through her mouth. You copied as best you could.

Over and over she coached you.

Things started to ease. Your pulse was still loudly thumping, but two doses of a corticosteroid will do that. In your escape, you’d made for the big rocks where you’d shared (sort of) a cigarette with Daryl. The stones felt nice and cool, and Lori’s gentle rubbing of her hand across your back was comforting.

“Been a while since you’ve needed the inhaler. ‘Decorative,’ you called it once,” she softly chatted. The sensation of not getting enough air wasn’t quite gone just then, but you felt pretty normal again.

“I reckon the cold and the smoke must’ve done me in,” you mumbled. Your throat was mildly sore after all the coughing. “It’s good it was mild.”

“Were you wheezing?”

“No, I…just couldn’t breathe enough or something.” You shrugged. “I don’t always wheeze when I need it.” Your nose was stuffy from crying.

She was thoughtful for a moment, and had begun to lightly scratch your back. “You and Glenn seem off this morning. I’ve seen you two tired before, but today you both seem…there’s something else going on, clearly. Did you two fight?”

“Not exactly.” It’s true. “We’re on the same page.” You weren't prepared to have to go onstage again, but just in case, you tried pulling yourself together.

“Was it about Maggie?”

You laughed genuinely. “Ha, not at all.”

Lori didn’t mirror your laughter or even smile in return. “Honey, I think you had a panic attack.”

At first, you protested. “Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic.”

“It looked different from where I was, but even still, it didn’t have to be ‘dramatic’ to have been one, you know that.” The vulnerability and straightforwardness in her voice, in her eyes, was enough to convince you that she could see straight into your heart and read what was there. “Y/N, is there something more going on?”

More than anything, at that moment, you didn’t want to lie to her.

But what could you do? Tell the truth, yes, 'the truth will out,' you know that. But you were convinced that telling the whole truth, right then, would be like lighting dynamite.

In your view, you would be exposing everyone to chaos and even violence, and you'd all seen too much of that already. And no, you couldn’t just tell one person because it never just stays with one person. Lori was/is not in any position to have more fear on her plate.

So what did you do?

You crawled back on that stage and you lied — by telling the truth.

“I’m worried he’ll talk.” Vague and a lie of omission, and maybe a little throwing your friend under the bus, but Lord have mercy on you, it was truthful.

Lori squeezed her eyes shut. “Me, too. Oh honey, I’m so scared!” she whispered, covering her mouth.

So scared of Shane, just like you are. “Rick won’t hold any of it against you. We all thought he was dead.”

She shook her head and stared at the ground.“But you saw how Shane behaved, you, you heard the things he said, Y/N,” she nearly hissed. “I don’t know who that man was, but it wasn’t Shane, just like when he had m—” then Lori cut off.

“When he had what?”

She shook her head again. “Seems Dale’s on his way over. He told me about what was going on so I could bring your medicine to you. He hadn't known what 'puffer' meant." And —oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry that you’re worrying yourself like this over my mistake! It's not fair to you.”

“Your kid ain’t a mistake, it’s so good that they’re here,” you replied in total honesty. First time all day.

Maybe she’ll be honest with you and spill whatever Shane did that she’s not being upfront about. Whatever it is could surely have been described in a sentence. “What else did Shane do, Lore?” It can’t have been that bad, or could it?

All she did was shake her head once more. “Like you said, he hasn’t been himself.

‘Hasn’t been himself.’ Fine. You’ve got secrets, too, so there’s no way on earth can you cast stones.

You stepped back onstage for hopefully the final time, and made yourself deliver the next lines. “That’s why we’re goin’ to Fort Benning.” Without you all. “Just him and me. Within two weeks, I hope?” The nausea still hadn’t gone away, and simply saying this brought it back.

Her brows sunk caution. “When was this decision made? I-I thought—”

“—I ain’t told him about it yet.” The bitter smile, you hadn’t been able to stifle. “Shouldn’t be hard to convince him, considering he was fixing to not so long ago.”

Lori’s apologetic tone wasn’t a put-on. “I’m so sorry he didn’t tell you. I had no idea you were left in the dark.”

That’s when some tightness came back to your chest, and your breathing turned faster again. “I know, Lore.”

She noticed. “Honey, hey,” she soothed, “breathe slowly, deeply." Her hand cupped your cheek. "His mistakes, his choices, his reactions are not your responsibility.”

“I know, b-but—”

“—And you don’t have to leave with him if you don't want to.”

“But wh—”

“—No buts.” Lori cupped your cheek, stood, and swiftly made toward Dale.

And here is where you hadn’t known she was going to be quite so straightforward with him.

In fact, you’d hoped she’d join you onstage and lie, too, but she behaved beyond reproach. “It was a panic attack, so please make sure to respect her privacy about it. I’ve got to check on the laundry.”

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

Funny thing, he’s wearing the same clothes he had his accident in. He’s in the same stuff leaving that he had been when he got carried in there, except now they’re cleaned and mended.

It’s been good to be back outside, he prefers it. He can’t wrap his head around why some people can keep inside in front of a TV all day. You don’t get to hear or feel the wind indoors, can’t hear the birds and all that.

Now, he couldn’t say for sure, but stepping outside and knowing he didn’t have to go back in must feel at least half as good as getting freed from prison.

If prison was a nice-ass farmhouse without the risk of getting shanked or worse, obviously.

Merle would have some words if he heard Daryl say something like that out loud. Though, Merle was pretty settled when he was in lock-up. Fared fine.

His first view when he steps out into freedom is of Glenn and the teenage boy, kicking the ball around. Those two are straight into it and pay him no mind as he walks around them.

The rest of the group is around the picnic table, looks like they’re sorting laundry (?), therefore ain’t paying him no mind, either.

Phew.

This is good. He was wondering if Y/N was gonna parade him out or make it a big deal, but after hearing her and the other ladies talking in the hallway, she didn’t come back in. Works for him, he doesn’t like a crowd.

…But, like, where is she? He figured she’d be around, is all, but she ain’t by the table.

Ah, yeah, duh — she's probably still doing something with the girl that's about her age and her little sister. Still seems off Y/N and Glenn are only “five or six years younger” than him, but that’s what Y/N has said a few times.

The next thing he sees is Lori, who is swooping down the yard and toward the big rocks where he and T-Dog took a smoke break once. And where Y/N had her first try of a cigarette, too. Lori looks like a woman on a mission, damn. Dale is staring in the direction Lori is walking, those big-ass brows of his slanted downward. Wonder what that's about?

Over the sound of a few leftover end-of-season cicadas, he hears the normal drone of crickets, light talking from the group, the thunk of the ball getting kicked, a very loud crow, some cows mooing, somebody coughing, birds doing their thing, chickens clucking, the wind blowing. Mmm, good stuff. Being inside and hearing it just don’t sound as good as being right out in it.

Then, “Daryl!” comes from his left, and he sees Carol walking to him. She’s a good woman.

And now the memory of her kissing him on the cheek is making his cheeks heat up as quick as her steps toward him.

“I’ll carry those for you,” she quietly insists about his small pile of clothes. He lets her.

She’s been very, um, very attentive. Been having most of her meals with him, babying him as much as he’d allow, and all-in-all has been treating him extra after he had his accident.

There are more coughing sounds that he almost pegs as being Y/N’s, but when he looks back in the direction of the noise, there’s no one, just Lori off on her walk, and it wasn’t her doing the coughing.

“We moved your tent closer to the rest of us, so you would be closer to where we could help you.”

Closer. Great. Daryl wanted nothing less, but a kind gesture is a kind gesture, so he mans up and acts proper, grunting, “Thank you.” It’s not like they went and messed with his stuff, they just moved the tent, and for a real kind reason.

Glenn rears and kicks, sending the ball soaring. Damn, he's good.

“Now, it may smell and look a little different, but all of your things are still there.”

“Huh?” What’d she mean?

“You deserved a nice, clean place to go back to,” Carol explains. “Y?N and I cleaned up your tent.”

…

...

…they what?

He gets the weirdest image of himself as being onstage and forgetting whatever it was he was supposed to say next, leaving him standing there like a mouthbreather in front of the audience. And he kinda wants to cuss the audience out.

His first idea after learning Carol and Y/N was: What the hell, y’all been messing with my stuff? What gives y'all the right?

But, come on, even he had it in him to keep his mouth shut. They’d taken the time and effort to clean up his shit and it was probably as nice as when Carol had worked her magic in the RV. That's damned decent, in fact.

So, Daryl does not act like a jackass, and instead, remembers his lines and thanks Carol again.

“It was no trouble. How about I bring you some more breakfast once you’re settled in?” she quickly offers. See? Very attentive. And he didn’t do shit to have earned it, which made it more uncomfortable.

Aw shit, his cheeks feel all warm again. First around Y/N, now Carol? Maybe there is something to this whole concussion bullshit.

Or, maybe Carol done kissed you on the cheek and said you were a good man and that you did right by her little girl as much as a father should and that’s the best possible thing somebody could be told.

“Do you want some more coffee, too?”

I wanna to be left alone, lady. “Nah, m’great. Thank you.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

“Last night seemed to be an indication summer was officially over. But today,” Dale blows through his lips, “Well, we can already tell it’ll be a warm one.”

“Did we hit the first day of fall, yet? I forgot what date it is today.”

“No, that’s on the 21st. We’ve got some time.”

“Oh, wait!” you squeak (ouch, your throat is still sore from coughing). “Ain’t it the Holy Days for you still?” Rosh Hoshanah was sometime last week, but that one got sort of messed up because of everything that’s been going on.

Oh man, it was the day after Daryl got into his accident, wasn’t it?

Dale’s cordial expression falters. “Yes, it was last week.”

“Yom Kippur is soon then, right?”

“It’s on the 18th this year, yes. Two days away.”

There’s this very insistent raven that’s been cawing away. Or is that a crow? You can’t tell the difference. You can tell that you’ve bummed Dale out, however. “I’ve bummed you out.”

Smiling sadly, he concedes, “Jewish holidays are usually lonely ones in mixed company. And now, especially with it being the holiest time of the year, after everything…” He lifts his shoulders.

“I’ll do the fasting with you so you won’t be alone!” Ow, stop raising your voice so high. “Is it no food or drink at all on that day, or is water okay?”

A happier smile. “No food or drink — barring serious health concerns, of course, in which case, one is required to not fast.”

“No water must suck! When my lot do fasting, water don’t count.”

He nods his head once. “It’s all part of the atonement. It’s considered a blessing for us to fast for it.”

“And the feast after it is fun,” you sigh with a grin. You’ll enlist Carol and Lori to see about making him a yummy fast-breaking meal for the day.

This is what you needed. Dale didn’t press you regarding the panic attack, and has simply been keeping you company by the big rocks. You’ve haven’t had to go back onstage while he’s been sitting with you. You’d probably be content to stay here a good, long time if you didn’t have to use the toilet something major.

“Did you see if there was a pair of suspenders in the bags so you and Mr. Greene can match?”

“Is this your way of saying you’re feeling well enough to head back, or that you need privacy?”

“It’s my way of sayin’ I gotta go potty real bad.” You stand. “Suspenders are pretty cool, you can party like it’s 1899.”

“I actually quite like how suspenders look,” he chuckles, stretching and getting to his feet.

“Mm, they remind me of the Old West, I love ’em.”

Dale and you walk back until reaching the side of the farmhouse, whereupon you excuse yourself to head to the treeline and do your business.

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

As soon as the heat starts to sink in, he unbuttons his shirt halfway and kicks his shoes off. Getting the socks off without hurting himself takes some effort, but it’s worth it. His stuff is so squeaky clean and fresh, he wants to avoid sweating the place up too quick.

His old pillowcase is gone, probably scrapped for dishrags seeing as it was pretty worn. In its place is a flower-covered one with soft, thick cotton fabric. There's some phrase about a 'woman's touch' that must apply here. Or, if Merle were here, prime Darylina ammo. Joke's on him, the pillowcase is soft as hell.

And being in there might seem boring, but it's 10 times better than being stuck in a damn bed and listening to music for days on end. Just cloud-watching through his tent window is fun enough for him.

In fact, it’s rad! He’s so psyched to not be in that room anymore!

Cloud watching, playing with his bolts, farting if he's gotta; he's content as can be. Seriously, he’s in such a good mood right now.

But as luck would have it, by the time he’s decided to see how easily a bolt can poke a hole through the mesh window (the answer is very easily, and it’s real satisfying) none other than Andrea herself appears at his tent door. The chick who shot him.

Now, she’s pretty as a picture and then some, but he doesn’t want his belly showing in front of her. If he’d been paying attention and heard her making her way to him, he would’ve buttoned up.

So, he tries out the same tactic as last night, when Carol walked in on him shirtless; maybe by not closing his shirt, she wouldn’t think about it? Or…fuck it, just about everybody has seen some part of him uncovered in the past week. At least there ain’t no scars on this side.

All he’s got to do is make like he’s onstage and that it doesn’t bother him having his literal nipples on display.

“Hey.” Andrea steps into his tent, looking like she is about to eat crow.

She hands him a book. He accepts the maybe peace-offering.

“It’s not that great, but…” she trails off, breathes out, and looks guilty as hell.

Y/N, Carol, and T-Dog all mentioned she’s been kicking her own ass for shooting him. Granted, he’s still a little pissed, and, yeah, real thankful that she’s a shit shot, but — she was trying to protect the group, right? Ain’t even her fault he got stuck in that damn bed. The concussion, split side, and broken ribs did that for him.

He figures he’s gotta make it clear that she’s off the hook without making her feel worse for being let off the hook. And, he thinks he knows just the way to break the tension. It’d got the librarian at his high school to laugh the first time he made the remark, which is probably why he was usually allowed to eat in there during lunch.

Now, he knows reading is still on the no-go list, don’t worry, Y/N, but he casually holds the book up and flips through the pages.

He’s gotta, it’s the setup.

It’s good that Andrea ain’t said nothing yet, because it’s the perfect opportunity for him to pretend to be dead-serious when he complains, “What, no pictures?”

The joke does the trick. Andrea smiles and relaxes. “I’m so sorry. I feel like shit,” she starts to go on, but he puts a stop to it.

Tucking the book aside as he settles down onto the pillow, he cuts in, “You and me both.”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, but, if there’s anything I can do, I—”

He cuts in one more time, “—You were trying to protect the group. We’re good.” He means it.

But, ya know, just because things are chill doesn’t mean he can’t bust her balls a little, right? “But hey,” he stops her as she’s leaving. “Shoot me again, you best pray I’m dead.”

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

“It went great! Better than I ever expected.” Andrea takes a seat beside you on the log. Judging by the look of serenity on her face, it appears that the monkey she’s had on her back for the past week is finally gone.

“Good, m’glad.” You knew it would be fine, but Andrea was so nervous.

“And I have to say, I can see the appeal now.”

“What appeal?”

“Daryl was,” she thinks on the right word and picks: “Charming.”

Ah. You see what she’s trying to do. “Well, go tell him that, then,” you suggest, cool as a cucumber. She and Dale thought you and he had a romantic thing going on. Lol, nah.

“And he was funny!” she goes on.

You sip your tea. “Mm, he can be.”

“Not angry, or, or nasty.” She closes her eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. “I was so worried about how it was going be.”

You tilt your head in partial agreement. He can be a dick.

Your job for the rest of the day, so Papa Dale done told you, is to be chill (yes, he used the word ‘chill’ and it was adorable). It’s your only responsibility today, seeing as he joined you when you went to check the highway spot for Sophia. She hasn’t found it, it’s untouched. Again.

So now, your job = keep chill.

“Are you helping with target practice later?”

Oh, right, and there’s that. You suppose you could continue helping Beth with drawing her weapon smoothly, keep drilling her never, ever forget to switch the safety back and forth.

But…maybe today, that isn’t your job. Maybe you need a rest from being onstage. “I think I’m gonna sit today out.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I just need a day,” you answer in too high a pitch.

Andy doesn’t inquire further. “How’s the little fuzzball?” she instead asks.

“Still sleeping,” you coo. The sluggish little chick you’d scooped up while quickly sprinkling feed-corn in order to feel useful is your insurance for keeping chill. Can’t not keep chill with a chick asleep in your lap.

“It must feel nice and safe wrapped up like that.”

“Mm.” The chick is nestled in a dishtowel, half its body also covered by your new cardigan.

“Y/N, have you not gone to visit him yet?”

“Not yet. He’d appreciate some time to himself, I reckon, after a week bein’ stuck in there and visitors and checkups at all hours.”

Glenn’s off doing farm chores with Jimmy, so he’s being kept busy and won’t be a concern. As for you, you’ve got your sleepy chick and are content to stay here on the log. You ate lunch, yet another peach (you’re up to six), just finished the leftover raspberries, and are now washing it all down with some fresh mint tea you made in honor of one of your best friends. She’d make her own mint tea and would call it ‘wild mint’ tea because it sounded exotic.

When Dale mentioned today’s date, you realized it was her birthday. She was the most confident girl you’d ever met, and a sweetheart to boot. You really hope she’s alive.

Andrea chuckles to herself. “I gave him that terrible book to keep him occupied.”

Book?? “A book?”

“I brought him The Case of the Missing Man,” she shares with a grin. “He can join the survivor’s club of those who’ve read it — Y/N, is something wrong?”

“Oh, um, nah, it’s all good, uh,” you are fumbling so hard right now. Cool, you’re feeling lightheaded again, cool cool.

It’s all cool. There’s no fire. Stay chill. “I’m gonna pop over and make sure he ain’t cracked into it yet, he’s, it’s, it’s not safe yet. C-Concussion and all.” Listen to you, smooth like butter.

“Oh shit.”

“Andy, don’t sweat. Even if he did start on it, like,” and you pause, because, “I don’t actually know what can go wrong, I didn’t ask Miss Patricia, but I’m sure it ain’t nothing serious!” You cup the (awoken and now loudly peeping) chick between your hands as you book it (pun intended?) to Daryl’s tent.

------------------------------

Him

------------------------------

For Y/N to glide over wearing a pretty dress, hair all fancy, and holding some little bird was not something he put on his bingo sheet.

“Hiya, Daryl.”

It takes him a second. “Hey.” Never seen her in a dress, is all. And with that little bird, he gets the image in his head of her bursting into song and the farm animals and forest critters doing a musical number with her.

He’ll *ahem* keep that to himself...

“I hope you’re enjoyin’ your new freedom! Mi—”

“—Who’s the little guy?” he had to ask first.

“It's a chick.”

Clearly. “Why?”

“It’s cute.”

She ain’t wrong. “…Can I see?”

“Yeah, it's adorable!”

He begins to get up, but she steps over faster than he can stand. She kneels beside his cot and, delicately, transfers the wrapped chick into his hands. He carefully unwraps the washcloth around it and slips his hand underneath it so sits on his palm with its teeny legs dangling through his fingers. It’s peeping like it’s getting paid for it, holy shit it’s so fucking cute.

“I came here wonderin’ if I might I borrow the, uh, the book Andrea just lent you?”

Ha, called it! The second Y/N found out he had contraband, she came to the rescue.

The chick quiets down, appearing to relax in his hand.

Maybe it’s because he’s in a good mood, but he smiles like a dipshit for a few moments before saying anything. “Nah, I wouldn’t dream of checking it out ’til you said it was fine.”

“Oh ha-ha,” she play-mocks, assuming he wasn’t being serious.

Eh, okay, maybe he was sorta razzing her, too. But he wants to come out on the other side of this whole concussion bullshit on the up, and if reading is still off-limits, it’s still off limits. He’s not gonna full-on disregard somebody who gives a shit.

“How’d ya end up dressed like that?” is his second question while he pets the chick lightly along its head with the feathers on his bolt.

“I wear this, like, all the time.”

“Oh right, yeah, you do,” he sarcastically responds. He tries to reach with his left arm to pick up the book under his cot, but gets a sharp twinge and surrenders that he can’t do that move yet.

Y/N snorts at the sarcasm and tells him straight, “The Greenes had some giveaways, so Beth gave me this outfit. Oh, thank you,” she says when he instead points in the direction of the book. She picks it up and hugs it to herself. “I do believe Carol put a few things aside for you to try on, too.”

“’Kay.”

Y/N looks pretty.

It’s nothing new, obviously her face is nice, but it's the whole blushing things that's annoying. Seems he's started blushing like a belle over all the damn women in camp these days. That really was some smack to the head he got.

He’s imagining himself as being back onstage again, forgetting his lines. He can ad-lib. “How you gonna search in that?”

“Ain’t like my ankles are tied together. Women have always been able to move, play, do manual labor of all sorts in dresses, corsets, stays, stockin’s, you name it,” she serves back with just enough fire that his belly did one of those good flippy-floppys. “That reminds me, Nervous Nelly came back! Did any of us tell you? She’s fine as can be, I fed her half a peach yesterday!”

Some of them baby hairs around her face are coming out of the braids. Her skin's got a sheen to it. And did she put pink stuff on her cheeks or something? Or is that because she was moving around a lot and it’s gotten warm out? Because her lips don’t look like there’s nothing on them but they’re nice and —

“—Dare, you okay?”

“Yeah. Tired.”

“You must be.” Why is she frowning? “You looked like you’d just got hypnotized or — you sure you feel normal?”

“M’fine, I just spaced out.”

She’s gonna have him do a thing, isn’t she? “Follow my finger for a little, please?” Ah-ha, see?

Pointer finger extended, he goes along with it for the 10 or so seconds it takes for the slight crease between her eyebrows to relax.

“Please stick out your tongue for me?” is her next request and, uh, why?

Well, he goes ahead and does it for her anyway. The hook ’em horns he makes at the same time are a sure sign he’s in a good-ass mood.

Y/N lets herself smile, then elaborates: “If it came out tilted, it’s a sign of stroke.”

Stroke? That’s a little much.“C’mon, you’re worried I had a stroke?”

She nods once. Her chest expands big as if she were inhaling really deep. “A smoker, extended bed rest, head trauma,” she quietly counts.

Is he hearing things, or does her breathing sound a little too fast?

“Can you point your toes three times?”

He point his toes three times, and yes, her breathing is a little too fast.

“Now please lift both arms parallel to the bed.”

He lifts both arms. The baby chicken is sleeping now and doesn’t wake with the motion.

“Okay,” Y/N whispers to herself.

“Tell me you’re not stressing out about nothin’.”

She blinks a few times and deadpans, “I would never.”

“Here,” he holds the chick near her face. “Get zen like this pipsqueak.”

“But you ain’t ‘nothing’ and you are at an elevated stroke risk.”

He’s only got the one word for her: “Zen.” The hovering motion he made with the chick was a fun touch, the little thing didn’t even mind.

Her expression suggests she’s trying to not smile, and, in a move he doesn’t anticipate, she leans forward to rub her nose on its beak. Her lips brush against his fingertips when she does and his train of thought derails.

Next thing, her hands are overlapping his as she gently takes the chick back and re-wraps it in the washcloth. “’Lil buddy you’re fine, you’re fine,” she coos. “I’ll grab you the hand sanitizer and leave you to some peace, alright man?” she addresses to Daryl, who's still a little distracted, so a grunt and a chin tilt is how he acknowledges this.

Merle would be laughing his ass off right now, goddamn. ‘Sweet lil virgin Darylina’ sounds about what he’d be cackling about.

Y/N flips open the cap with her thumb and squirts the hand stuff onto his palm. Smells like lemons.

So, he didn’t have that stuff before, meaning she’d likely been the one to put it in there when she’d cleaned his tent with Carol. “Hey, um, thanks for the surprise.” Damn, he’s awkward. Smells way better in here.”

“Carol is so wanting to help you in any way she can. I was in it just to see you end up with that pretty floral pillowcase. I had to stop her from hangin' the matching curtains,” she snickers, then waves him goodbye and, boom, leaves.

So…how long until his heartbeat and head stop racing?

------------------------------

You

------------------------------

Yet another stage performance today. You had to act like you weren’t distracted by how boyishly charming Daryl looked lounging there with his shirt unbuttoned to his hecking waist, good Moses. Then the way he snuggled the chick, how your legit lips bumped into his fingers?? He noticed your panicking and was all soothing and shit? Dude, and you were trying to sit like a dainty lady the whole time, too, what a poser.

Still, you think you were convincing. Oscar-worthy. Golden Globe. Emmy. Tony. Somebody hook you up with your EGOT.

Oh, and that little jab at his new pillowcase, aw yes, that was top tier friendzoning! Or — oh, it wasn’t interpreted as flirting, right? No way did you intend that! And hold up, no way he'd even care. It's Daryl.

You've earned a B- so far at being chill, you've got to get that grade up.

So, you are going to go pick fruit, alone, and you’re going to stuff your face because the show is over, you’re off stage for the rest of the day!

------------------------------------------

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[ourfag]

i think part of the resistance i’ve seen in response to the view of ed as an abuse victim—not just the view of izzy as someone who abused ed, but of ed as someone who was abused by him, as opposed to interpretations that pursue an image of Nuance and Complexity (unnecessarily, because their dynamic has heaps of both, but there seems to be a popular impulse to conflate complexity with shared culpability) by characterizing their relationship as being toxic/unhealthy in equal reciprocity, or as “mutually abusive” (oxymoron)—i definitely see the influence of racism there, but i think the racism is also working to amplify an adjacent issue where we tend to receive very specific cultural messaging about What An Abuse Victim Looks Like, and ed is excluded from a lot of that criteria.

he’s outspoken. he’s boisterous. he’s Very Cool and he Wears Leather. he’s physically bigger and browner than the person mistreating him. he spends the first season with a big grey beard, he’s covered in tattoos, he projects the image of A Man’s Man, to say nothing of his being a man in the first place. we see him get aggressive and we see him get angry (and sometimes we even see both at the same time). we see moments where he’s surly, prickly, insensitive, arrogant. his survival techniques and trauma responses incur collateral damage to other people, and in the second season this extends into affecting people we actually sympathize with. he’s extremely private about expressing fear. without examination, his professional relationship to izzy seems to position him as the one with the power slanted in his favor.

most damningly, we see him react multiple times to izzy’s abuse with physical violence. this is behavior that gets referenced all the time in the construction of narratives condemning subjects of physical abuse, let alone emotional abuse. which is why writing that intends for its audience to interpret a character as being unambiguously A Victim Of Abuse will often, for simplicity’s sake, avoid showing the character regularly engaging in anything of the kind.

and again, all of these departures from the image of The Model Victim are compounded by his being a man of color.

without any of the shorthand designed to point a big flashing arrow at his mistreatment, all we have left to work with are the words and actions we see from ed and izzy onscreen. who instigates conflict, and how does the other respond? how are they able or allowed to respond? how do we see them speak about each other to outside parties? does one go out of their way to control or isolate the other? what consequences does either party stand to face in saying “no” to the other? in acting against the other’s wishes? in trying to leave the relationship? when either of them attempts these things, how do we see the other respond?

i realize and appreciate what people are driving at when they garnish their analysis with disclaimers that they’re not saying ed’s just a poor innocent abuse victim, they’re not saying he’s a perfect angel who’s never done anything wrong, and that’s true, but these are points already contained implicitly in statements like “this show’s protagonists act like human people” and “ed’s emotional struggles are portrayed in a realistic and believable way.” my assumption is that these disclaimers are anticipatory responses to worst-faith interpretations of any discussion that attributes any victim status to ed whatsoever, so i definitely sympathize with their inclusion, but a (very small) part of me still worries about them potentially reflecting or reinforcing a belief that there is any way for someone to behave towards their abuser that imparts a responsibility for them to make right whatever damage the abuser receives, or for that matter any degree of ambiguity over their status as an abuse victim in the first place.

part of what i find so gratifying about ed as a character is that i don’t feel like the show’s writing is pressuring me to consider that ambiguity at all. which was a really nice thing for me to discover!

and tbh—did using ed to deconstruct The Model Victim even factor into the writers’ agenda?? ive got no clue. im guessing no? ??maybe?? probably not?? but if you create a main character whose central premise is that he feels trapped in a performance of exaggerated masculinity that he’s desperate to escape, and then you set him up with a character premised on embodying a tangible obstacle against that escape, then i guess that’s the natural shape your story’s gonna be inclined to take

[andrewmnyard]

everyone is calling the colleen ballinger response video “the worst youtuber apology” y’all- she didn’t even apologize in her 10 minute ukulele song!!

[atsu-i]

.

[dashiellqvverty]

everyone always wants to talk about jenny nicholsons video essays and i’m like does ANYONE want to talk about the art of the mattress aka the sleep song. bc it plays in my head every time i see anything about her.

[turtle-trash]

Different anon but essentially, you looked at Black people using aave: African American vernacular english, having fun on a post and decided it was OK to screenshot and imply they were all hostile people, or using "cruel" language. It's racist to assume Black people having fun on a tournament poll(which people have been actually cruel with) are threatening just because you are not familiar with the language. If you can recognize that White women refer each other as bitches and sluts out of familiarity and friendship you need to extend that kind of understanding with other languages(yes aave is a language). If you personally do not feel comfortable using such language, thats fine, but thats how other people talk you cant control that. But it goes to show that you guys need to stop stealing aave just to make yourselves appear more threatening or angry or as an interntet joke. Because nonblack people steal it so much you guys have desensitized yourselves the ability to recognize when actual Black people are just being friendly. Case in point: your "my brother in christ" post? The original phrase that white people stole to turn into a meme was "my n*gga in christ". Hence why we ask you guys to stop using "my brother in christ" memes. But even then the original phrase still means "friend". N*gga is a slur, but Black people can use it to refer as "homie" or "friend". Yall can't. Context matters. And now we are at the point where people are accusing the polls to be botted which hate to tell yall it ain't that important. Someone brought this up but if reylos didn't care to bot these things why would anyone care for two characters hardly anyone knows. But other than that, the constant association of equating Black people to bots on this website is racist and its annoying that keeps on happening. That's not even how bots work. You truly want to work on being a better a person, go learn this stuff: research. I can't even blame the other anon that just sends you a "you're just racist" message. I had the time to send this. But more often than not yall drain us because every day with this stuff. You feel exhausted through this experience alone? Imagine going through this and the racism everyday in every fandom space when you just wanna have fun. You gotta put in the effort yourself sometimes

Ohh Kay give me a sec. I need to process this (i don’t do vry good with long blocks of text with no spacing. Apologies)

When I posted those screenshots I didn’t know that the people who said those things were black, I’d try to defend myself on this but I know that I may say something wrong since I’m really bad with words. All I was trying to do was inform the op that the cruel words could have started again. I think one of my mistakes was making it public, as i didn’t expect me doing that would have spread that much (I don’t exactly have a very big presence on this site)

The reason I assumed the language being used was harmful is likely due to my inability to read tone over text, not an excuse, just an explanation. I will reiterate that my issue was with the fact that people (no matter who says it) were referring to a character who’s a child in that way

Ive already gotten a message about my use of the "my brother in Christ" phrase, I’m already removing it from the phrases I use occasionally. I try to keep posts that I’ve messed up on to not try to erase my mistakes, I think it’s good to be transparent about the mistakes I’ve made and I see I’ve failed in that department [not trying to excuse my actions or anything, I’m just attempting to state what I’ve done wrong]

I didn’t say that botting was happening anywhere, I don’t think there was any botting happening. I’m not quite sure where the statement that people think that black people are bots came from in regards to this situation (since I didn’t even mention the potential of botting anywhere except my post saying I want to try and distance myself from this situation for my mental health iirc. And even then I didn’t say the poll was botted)

I understand if anyone is uncomfortable with how I handled anything these past few days. I know I should see if I can find anything to try and better my understanding of this (which I should probably do before I somehow forget, apologies, my memory isn’t very good sometimes)

Im not sure how to end this in a good way but thanks for letting me know, sorry for making you guys feel uncomfortable

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness  that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

My girlfriend requested this

Hazbin men trying the period simulator. Somewhat of a follow up to my period post so this is based on the reader having severe period pain due to PCOS/ENDO

Lucifer

The man is sweating before you even attach the simulator. He knows he fucked up. He only agreed to this because he loves you a lot.

He handles the first 3 levels ok. You tell him very few women experience that little pain and that usually 4-6 is the average.

Those levels make him tense. He's uncomfortable, but still pretty able to work and do normal things. 5 has him pausing to do deep breaths every now and then. (If this is the canon timeline where he birthed Charlie he compares it to bad kicks).

6-8 he's pretty much doubled over. If you tell him that's the level you experience, he will cry. Literally begs forgiveness since again, period and labor pain is technically his fault. He is so sorry. If he didn't have issues with his Dad before he does now because this is fucked up. God's fucked up for doing this.

He doesn't make it to 10, he's crying by level 9. This is labor levels of pain. He gets why all you do is sleep. Treats your period like a sacred ritual after that. Preps for weeks. He goes full Bible, sheltering you for the duration of it so you can have peace and quiet. Please never hook him up to this again.

If you wear it at anything from an 8-10 and tell him "It's close, but I've hurt worse" he's gonna sob and then try and fight his Old Man again. He'll settle for offering to have your bits removed for you.

Vox

Once again this man hates admitting he was wrong. And yeah he knows your periods are really bad, especially now he's witnessed it. But it's still a huge knowledge gap for him and he doesn’t really take the time to think about it.

He handles 1-5 well. He's mildly uncomfortable by 5, but thinks that if this is the average experience, then it's not such a big deal. Tell him the statistics on how many people with periods actually experience 6-8 because that's actually the majority, and he's just confused. How is the average pain level not the most common?

6-8 has him gritting his teeth and glitching, but he refuses to stop and keeps trying to work. Is starting to wonder how you went so long working with this level of pain without him noticing.

He makes it to 10, but by then, he's unable to move, clutching his abdomen and sparking and glitching. Tells you it feels like his entire insides are being squeezed. The fact that he can feel it in his groin. He's kind of afraid of period sex with you after that because of how much he felt it. And you said it's caused cramps from your ribs to your knees. He's like... genuinely scared of your period and pain tolerance.

He's going to snuggle the fuck out of you afterwards and apologize for not appreciating how much you still do for him when you're not feeling good. How he didn't see how hurt you were. He does a lot of research after that and not only does he spoil you by buying whatever you need for your periods and giving you time off, he looks into treatment options. Even if that means chopping the useless fucking things out. Sinners can't have kids anyway so who needs ovaries and a uterus?

He's more convinced you should just be rid of the damn things when you wear it and 8-10 is "Yeah, this is close, but it doesn't really cover how much of my body hurts".

Valentino

Is only doing this because he was dared to by Velvette. Or if this an au where he's trying to be a less toxic person. But really I think it's also to prove that you're all being dramatic. It's a perfectly normal body function and his employees are just trying to get out of work.

He gets all the way to 6 before he starts to realize he may have fucked up. Especially when it's explained that this is what most people experience.

By 10 he's gritting his teeth, chain smoking, clawing at things. He refuses to give in, but he can count on one hand the number of things in his entire life and death as a pimp and a whore that he's experienced that come close to this level of pain.

No one told him his dick was gonna hurt. Sitting hurts. Breathing hurts. He doesn't even try to eat. He won't ever admit to being wrong, but he does behave more leniently with his actors when they're on their periods.

If you put it on (and lets say he actually cares about you) and setting 8-10 is "Yeah, this an average day for my cramps. My bad days are like..5 or 6 levels worse" it's gonna rearrange his brain a little. He might be a little afraid of you and some of the other actors with periods because your pain tolerances are so high. It threatens his ability to control you and them. But on the other hand, that's kinda hot???

Alastor

Has never once doubted that people who experience periods undergo serious struggle and has nothing but respect for women (and trans people he just associates it with women more because of the time period and his mama) who work through it.

He is actually the one who heard about the simulator through Rosie and asks you to show him your experience. Just to better understand you. He knows you're the type to try and function through the pain (probably because society ingrained into you that your pain doesn't matter).

Initially, he wants to skip the lower levels and just have you set it to your pain level. You tell him that's a bad idea, and to be honest, you're not sure if this thing goes that high. He asks you to check and you set it to the highest setting and say, "It's pretty close. It's been worse, but this is a rough idea," he's a little frustrated but still tries it.

You agree to set it to 4 and tell him 4-6 is what most people report feeling. He acknowledges it, registers it as unpleasant, but otherwise is fully capable.

7-9 has his ears flat, his smile is more a snarl. This is uncomfortable. Not what he considers painful but certainly irritating. It makes sitting, stretching, and eating feel much more difficult.

10. There's static visble around him. His teeth grind. Actually painful. Not the worst pain he's experienced, but he hates it. He hates the way he feels it in his back and hips as he walks. He hates the way taking deep breaths (which for someone as dramatic as he is and with the transatlantic accent, breathing technique and posture is important) stings. He hates the way it causes his stomach to cramp and churn. He hates the ache in his thighs and groin that make sitting feel stiff and ackward. He can only picture how blood loss would make this worse. Tired, losing nutrients, the headaches, the increased moodiness. It's no wonder you sleep, so much, but he wonders how the Hell you sleep like this? He's snappy and short tempered because of the pain (and again he gets why you would be if you weren't sleeping so much).

How does this affect how he treats you?

Not much. He still expects you to know your body and your limits. He would never dare to presume otherwise. He still helps prepare whatever you need for your time of the month and still meal plans for you, though he perhaps finds ways to ensure you get all the iron and vitamins you need without cooking steak and other big, heavy meals, since he now understands how bad your stomach hurts.

The only really noticeable change is how much more protective of you he is. Your time of the month hits, and Alastor hates being more than a few moments from you. He growls, pins his ears, and his antlers grow when people get too close to you. He's more prone to letting you snuggle with him when you want, trying to comfort you.

Angel Dust

Another who volunteered. His girl besties insist he doesn't have to do this, he's got the pass. He still wants to do it though, for solidarity.

He also starts on 4 and handles it well. He handles all of the levels pretty well, even 10. By 7 it's obvious he's sore, maybe a bit more withdrawn, exhausted, trying not to move too much or eat too much. Just trying to find a comfortable way to exist. The sad problem is, Angel already has to do this after rough nights at Val's.

He's used to sitting being uncomfortable and aches in his groin and thighs, cramps in his stomach from muscles clenching constantly. 10 is the only level where he's visibly ill, hunched over, lower arms curled around his midsection protectively.

He and the girlies all curl up together and nap and chat and snack on easy to digest junk food and granola bars. He's the first one to say "I bet it's even worse for you gals, but I tried".

He gets it. He's one of the girls. Honestly, kind of becomes a favorite when the ladies have period problems. (If you're dating any of the others and Angel is openly your favorite after this it is gonna cause a lot of dramatic pouting, posturing, and tantrum throwing.)

Husk

I'm going full balls to the wall on Veteran Husk. This man has seen some shit and dealt with his fair share of pain. Like Angel he takes it the best, with very little outward reaction. He's used to stiffness and nausea. The pain in his crotch is a little off putting, but it could be worse.

He's more cautious how he moves, rests more, occasionally a cramp causes his ears to pin back or a small hiss. Overall he takes it like a champ.

Offers you endless amounts of supportive words for dealing with this as well as you do, for days on end. Also is deeply sorry you even have to put up with this shit. Offers all sorts of tips on how to do stretches that help with easing cramps and stiffness without pulling something. Tips of foods/protein drinks to keep on hand to make sure you're maximizing how much nutrition you get. Man's a whole ass survival guide.

He only offers advice if you ask, though. He's not mansplaining how to handle your own body. He genuinely wants to help you, and that's the best way he knows how.

When you're on your period and just want something soft and warm he doesn't even bitch about it, he just settles on top of you and purrs, offers a massage, maybe offers a sly grin and a "no man left behind" joke as he helps you through these dark times.

BONUS:

ADAM

Would only do this if you challenged him, he has to prove his masculinity. He is definitely nervous as fuck though because he's seen yours. You and Lute already forced him to sit through a whole PowerPoint on women's anatomy and shit. He remembers how shitty he was to Eve, even if hers were in comparison, not that bad, just scary and new.

You forcing him to learn about and acknowledge female health is making him scared of pussy. This isn't gonna help.

3 and 4 make him whiney. He's uncomfortable. His groin feels weird. This sucks. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS ISN'T EVEN THE AVERAGE?!"

By 5-7 he's actually on his knees, curled over his stomach. He tells you getting stabbed hurt less. This is making him re-evaluate his entire view on women (again he knows about trans people, but because of personal history equates periods to women. Wouldn't hate if a trans person had a period, it would just take his brain a second to process). He whines that you and Lute shouldn't be more badass than him.

"I thought men were supposed to be tougher and stronger. This pain tolerance horseshit is a lie. You guys suck."

He insists on going to 10 because quitting is for losers. He may actually throw up at 10 though. Every time the stupid simulators sends out a pulse and his stomach clenches, he groans. He's in the featal position, there are tears. One hand clenches his stomach the other is cupped around his groin. He's apologizing so much and he doesn't even remember what he's apologizing for. At one point its just "I'm sorry...oh fuck this...sorry about...ugh just...just men?! I guess. Fucking shit ass. Men suck. Women are...fucking great. Aces. You do this shit every month? For like 5 days....what the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck."

You feel a little bad, but Lute is definitely filming this. Afterwards, he tells you you're a badass and any person shit talking people for bitching about period pain (Not that a lot of Winners do, but ya know, obviously they let some questionable people into Heaven if Adam and Lute got by) he's gonna beat the shit out of them. Like "Do you even fucking know, bitch? They're literally so much fucking better than you. Absolute queens. You try doing literally anything when it feels like your dick is falling off and your insides are trying to claw outside your body!"

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happened to share a history with.

+ pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader

+ word count: 4.5k

+ content: badboy!wonwoo, college au, mature language, jealousy, angst, suggestive, possessive wonwoo (yum), teasing, a lot of dialogue for sure, fluff?, please lmk if i missed anything tyyyy!

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] glad you guys enjoyed part one!!! 🥹 i really appreciate the lovely comments you all left <333 i know this took forever for me to post but i swear i didn't mean to. currently writing part three as we speak so it will definitely come out within these following months or so... anyways, this wasn't proofread so please excuse any mistakes i may have made! as always, don't be scared to comment because i quite literally thrive on your guys' comments and reblogs! :)

Two weeks. Two full weeks of your torture.

Wonwoo was pretty shocked, to say the least. He wasn’t aware of the lengths you would take to ignore him. Sure, it was his fault for going off on you but he was sorry. He knew what he had said to you that day upset you, but he didn't know it was going to end up like this. And now he was at a loss, he wasn’t sure on how to navigate this 'predicament' between the two of you.

Wonwoo obviously knew that he had to apologize to you but he also knew that you needed space. Which is exactly what he did for those first few days after the ‘fight’ had occurred. He gave you space for a day or two but then, those two days turned into five... and before he knew it, two weeks had passed.

Of course, it’s not like Wonwoo didn’t try to talk to you but it was kind of difficult when you would run away at the mere sight of him. It also didn't help that any of his attempts for forgiveness were typically greeted with your indifference, it was as if you had walled yourself off completely.

To make matters worse, anytime that Wonwoo was able to see you, Hyunwoo was right by your side. It was troubling, to say the least. He couldn't quite put his finger on why the sight of you with Hyunwoo stirred such unease within him but it did and he hated it.

Out of everyone on this campus, you were giving Hyunwoo your time and attention? It just didn't make sense to Wonwoo. You barely knew the guy!

Not that he was jealous or anything but… there was something about Hyunwoo that he didn't trust. His easy 'charm' and 'magnetic' personality seemed almost too good to be true, and Wonwoo couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye. He was definitely hiding something.

And so, Wonwoo found himself in limbo, caught between the regret of his past actions and the uncertainty of what would happen between him and you. He hoped for the chance to set things right, to close the gap that had formed between the two of you, but he couldn't help but wonder if it was already too late.

Until then, all he could do was wait for another opportunity.

[...]

To say that you were bored was an understatement. Ignoring Wonwoo for two weeks was beginning to take its toll on you. Life had suddenly become only about your job and classes which was... exhausting.

Granted, you did make it your life mission to ignore him any chance you were given but there was no point in dwelling on that. It was quite easy going no-contact with him considering that you didn't share any socials with him. A small part of you did occasionally miss when you would get randomly bothered by Wonwoo, it was a nice distraction from whatever you were thinking about at that moment.

Other than that...

Life was pretty uneventful if you were being honest with yourself. Your days were usually filled with school assignments and work so there wasn't anything that could help you keep your mind away from Wonwoo. And it didn't help that your friends had gone radio silent on you either.

Some might say that you were taking your pettiness too far but you couldn't help yourself! Sure, you and Wonwoo were not at the level where you could practically share everything with each other but how else were you supposed to react to his obvious injuries? Like... did he want you to just ignore his bruised face and act like everything was fine and dandy? You despised how much this whole situation still bothered you even after a few weeks had passed since it occurred.

Maybe it wouldn't hurt to hear Wonwoo out-

"Hellooo? Yn!"

Your head snapped towards the direction where you heard your name come from. Of course, it was Hyunwoo.

"I've been calling your name like crazy! Are you deaf or something?" His voice was laced with annoyance but you could tell that he was trying to play it cool.

You don't know if it was because you were always sleep-deprived but recently, Hyunwoo had been getting on your nerves. Hyunwoo was just too clingy for your liking, always feeling the need to be around you any chance he could. It was bothersome if anything.

“Sorry I was distracted, what did you need?” You tried to sound nice but couldn't help the irritation from slipping into your tone.

Hyunwoo scoffed. "Well, I just wanted to invite you to this party on Friday." He stepped closer to you, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.

He continued, "I know parties aren't really your thing but... please think about it at least?"

You hesitated, your mind automatically going through your schedule. You were definitely open on Friday, but the thought of going to a party wasn't exactly appealing to you. Especially not with the current state of your social life.

You mulled over his proposition for a few seconds.

"Uh, thanks for the invite, but I think I'll pass," you replied, trying to sound casual.

Hyunwoo raised an eyebrow, his playful demeanor turning into one of disbelief. "Pass? Come on, yn, when was the last time you actually went out and had some fun?"

Ugh. His words hit a little too close to home. You knew he was right, but the idea of going out without knowing anyone felt daunting. You knew that there was surely something better you could do on a Friday night but a small part of you was curious about the party. Maybe you should at least check it out, that wouldn't hurt, right?

You looked at Hyunwoo and exhaled.

"Okay fine, I'll go with you," you playfully nudged his arm before continuing, "under the condition that I can leave whenever I want."

Hyunwoo couldn't help but roll his eyes and scoff at your 'terms and conditions', but he accepted it either way.

"Sure, oh and trust me, you won't want to leave, I'll make sure of that," Hyunwoo said as he looked at the time on his phone noting that he had a few minutes left. He patted your back before bidding you goodbye to attend his next class.

You weren't sure if it was you but there was something off about his reply. But before you could dwell on it further, your phone suddenly buzzed with a notification, forcing you back to reality.

[www.onwoo requested to follow you.]

Oh.

Okay, now you have a lot of questions. How did he even find you? Was it through one of your friends? Why now? God you knew this was going to eat you up for the next few hours or maybe even days.

Nevertheless, you accepted his friend request and even went as far as to add him as a friend. That should be okay, right?

You slipped your phone back into your pocket as you got closer to your class. Surely your lecture would at least help you take him off your mind.

Wrong.

When you entered the classroom you noticed that the seating arrangement had been changed. There were a few students still standing at the front who looked just as confused as you. After a few more students came to the class the professor eventually got up to address the situation.

"For those that are coming in, I have changed your assigned seats for the rest of the semester! If you look at the board you will also see that I have grouped you into pairs, and to make it convenient I have sat you with your partner so you do not have to struggle with finding them. If you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask me!"

Okay, this was different but not necessarily bad. You looked towards the board to see who you had been paired with and you felt your stomach drop down to the pits of Hell.

[yn | wonwoo]

If you were going to be honest you completely forgot Wonwoo was even in this class in the first place.

If there was a God out there, then they for sure failed you today. This was very unfortunate for you, but there wasn't anything that could be done about it. So you begrudgingly made your way to your assigned seat, right next to Wonwoo.

You took a quick glance over his figure noting his dark attire. There wasn't anything special about it but just seeing him in a simple black shirt and sweats was doing a lot of things to you. Why was the room hot all of a sudden?

After getting yourself situated in your seat, you felt his eyes surveying your figure. Part of you wanted to turn to see if he was actually looking at you but that would just be another win for him so you decided to keep your gaze on the board. Just focus on the lecture.

"yn." Wonwoo said in a somewhat muted tone, tapping a finger on your arm.

Well, that didn't last long.

You hated how much of an effect his voice still had on you, that deep tone always giving you goosebumps. Surprisingly, you still managed to keep your eyes on the lecture, you wanted to see how far he would go to get your attention.

Though your silence didn't amuse Wonwoo, in fact, it annoyed him. He hated not being able to annoy you, maybe even going as far as to say that he missed talking to you. Of course, he wouldn't have been in this situation had he not snapped at you that day but he was really trying to earn your forgiveness. He was willing to do anything at this point. So he leaned towards you, his cologne invading your senses. God, why did he have to smell so good?

"Can you stop ignoring me? I gave you enough space already," he said in a hushed, irritated tone.

You looked at him, trying your best to not laugh at how desperate he was beginning to sound. His usually calm and collected persona was beginning to crumble down into a hopeless mess. Feeling playful, you decided to torture him just a little bit.

"I don't think I want to, it's been kind of fun not having you around," You whispered back, turning your gaze at the board so you wouldn't have to see his reaction. Just for the fun of it, you decided to egg him on a little further, "Maybe try again later."

As you focused on the board, you could practically feel the tension radiating from Wonwoo beside you. His irritation was palpable, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his frustration.

But despite your playful defiance, a small part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Maybe you were being too harsh on him, too stubborn to admit that you missed whatever you had going on with him. Deep down, you knew that ignoring Wonwoo wasn't going to solve anything, that it was only prolonging the inevitable confrontation you both needed to have.

As the lecture droned on in the background, the weight of Wonwoo's presence beside you grew heavier with each passing minute. You could sense him fidgeting in his seat, his frustration simmering beneath the surface as he grappled with your stubborn silence.

Maybe it was time that you stopped pushing him away.

Finally unable to bear the tension any longer, you cleared your throat.

"Okay fine, I'll stop ignoring you but don't think that I have forgiven you yet." Your eyes lingered on his face, his cuts and bruises had noticeably healed but they were still evident.

Wonwoo's tense figure visibly relaxed at your words. Even though it was only a small step, Wonwoo felt as if he had already won the lottery.

After another hour had passed, the lecture had finally come to an end. You didn't have any plans after this so you were excited to just spend the day doing whatever. But just as you were about to slip out of your seat, Wonwoo's voice stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait for me," he said, his voice softer than before.

Seeing Wonwoo like this was quite... weird. His demeanor towards you was a complete contrast to his usual confident self. It was kind of unnerving.

After that, Wonwoo began to gather his belongings, even going as far as gently taking your bag from your hand. He slid the bag onto his shoulder, not caring about the fact that he looked ridiculous wearing his regular backpack with your tote.

"I can carry my bag," you said as you tried reaching for it.

Wonwoo quickly moved away before you could even land a finger on your tote. "Let me carry it for you, please." His tone was sincere this time, almost pleading if anything.

With a reluctant sigh, you began to make your way out of the classroom, allowing Wonwoo to fall into step beside you as you made your way out of the lecture hall. The hallway was relatively quiet, the sounds of footsteps echoing against the tiled floor as you passed by other students.

As you walked side by side with Wonwoo, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a physical barrier. As you rounded the corner, you stole a glance at Wonwoo, taking in the uncertainty etched into his features. It was strange to see him like this, vulnerable and unsure, but there was also something oddly endearing about it.

"What's going on? You're acting really weird right now," you finally blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.

Wonwoo's steps faltered slightly at your question, his gaze flickering away before returning to meet yours. "Can't I do something nice for my friend?" he replied, his voice tinged with a tiny hint of defensiveness.

You blinked, taken aback by Wonwoo's response. "Friend?" you echoed, the word feeling foreign on your tongue. It had been weeks since you and Wonwoo had exchanged more than a few words with each other, but even before that, you weren't necessarily sure you could call him a friend. Sure you've known him for the majority of your life but that was really it, growing up your friend groups rarely interacted so it's not like you actually knew anything about him. He just always happened to be there.

Did he seriously consider you as a friend?

Wonwoo's steps came to an abrupt stop, he shifted uncomfortably beside you, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "Well, yeah. I mean, aren't we?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications and unresolved tension. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, searching for the right words to express the swirling thoughts and emotions that churned within you.

"I don't know, Wonwoo," you finally admitted, your voice quiet but resolute. "I get that we've known each other for a long time but... I wouldn't exactly call us friends."

His face flashed a hint of hurt before he looked away from you. The silence following between the two of you was almost suffocating.

"That's fair I guess." His voice returned to that stoic tone that you had grown accustomed to.

Wonwoo's response hung in the air for a second, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. You could feel the weight of his disappointment pressing down on you, mingling with your own sense of unease.

"I didn't mean it like that," you interjected hastily, the words tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... weird you know? We've been around each other for so long but I don't know anything about you and you don't know anything about me."

His gaze remained fixed on the ground, his expression unreadable. "I know," he murmured, his voice barely audible above the footsteps of the people passing by. "But we can always change that." Wonwoo was now completely looking at you, his gaze filled with something you couldn't quite pinpoint.

He continued, "Look, I'm sorry I spoke to you that way. I was really irritated by what had happened but I figured that being with you would put me in a better mood," he paused for a second, "I know that it was unfair of me to do that to you and I'll make sure that it won't happen again." Wonwoo's eyes were soft and sincere as he spoke to you.

It was shocking in a way, seeing how vulnerable he was being with you. For someone who usually displayed himself on the 'cooler' side, he really did know how to be genuine with you.

It was also overwhelming. Everything about this felt too intimate for you. From the way Wonwoo was looking at you to the way he voiced out his apology; it was just too much for you.

You had to do something.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to accept his apology, it was about time anyway.

"Okay, fine. I get it, we all have our off days," turning to face his side, you made a playful jab into his ribs, "but if you ever do anything like that again I will kill you." You tried your best to maintain a somewhat serious face but couldn't help but let out a giggle as soon as you saw Wonwoo squirm from your touch.

And just like that, the tension that had once felt suffocating was now gone, as if it had never been there in the first place; or at least so you thought.

What you didn't know was that Wonwoo was completely aware of your little diversion tactic. He noticed the subtle shift in your eyes while he was apologizing to you, he just chose not to say anything. But he'll play along at least for now.

“So…are we officially back to being besties?” Wonwoo decided to say teasingly, his eyes looking at you expectantly.

You stare at him momentarily with an unimpressed look before breaking into a smile. Although you've known Wonwoo for a while, you would have never thought he could joke around like this, especially with you.

And well... it wouldn't hurt if you played with him a little more.

“I’ll say yes if you buy me a smoothie from the stand over there.” You pointed toward the barely visible smoothie stand that was parked a bit farther from the window where you and Wonwoo stood.

It was the same smoothie spot from a few weeks ago only this time they were in a small cart. Although they did have their own shop near the area, the owners would occasionally bring a little cart around the campus to help bring more people in.

Wonwoo let out a low chuckle before asking you, "Do you want the same thing from last time?”

Last time? There was absolutely no way that he was talking about your order from two weeks ago.

You quirked your eyebrow up at him, "…And just how sure are you that you remember my order?"

Okay, to be fair, it's not like you had a complicated order, but it would be surprising if Wonwoo was able to remember it considering that he only heard you order that smoothie once.

Wonwoo looked over to you once again, a small smirk taking over his features. "I'll have you know that it also happens to be my favorite so don't get too excited now," he said in a provocative tone.

Ugh, he was so annoying.

Before you could give his response any more thought Wonwoo had wordlessly started walking toward the smoothie stand, effectively leaving you behind. But rather than following him all the way to the stand you decided to find seating, preferably under the shade. It's been getting hot, you noticed it's especially true when Wonwoo is around.

After finding a spot under the shade you begin to mindlessly scroll on your phone. It wasn't too long after you sat down that a notification got a hold of your attention.

[www.onwoo wants to send you a message.]

Oh god. What did he possibly want now?

[www.onwoo] why didn't you come with me? :(

Before accepting his message request you glanced over to the smoothie stand, the line was pretty long now but Wonwoo had made it just in time to get his order in before the rush. As you were looking at him, he turned his gaze toward you making you immediately look back down on your phone.

[you] it's only a one-man job. also you look ridiculous with my bag.

Wonwoo softly scoffed at your message and looked in your direction. You weren't looking at him anymore but he was still able to see a small smile on your face.

[www.onwoo] i'll have you know that i already had 3 girls compliment me on the bag 😼

You rolled your eyes before shooting back a reply.

[you] i have immaculate taste that's why.

A few chat bubbles popped in and out before they eventually disappeared altogether. It wasn't long after that you heard footsteps quickly making their way toward you.

Just as you lifted your head upwards you heard Wonwoo's confident voice announce his arrival.

“One large smoothie for my little birdy.” He smiled as he spoke, knowing that you absolutely despised that nickname.

You squinted at him in disapproval, “And here I thought that nickname was officially gone for good.”

Wonwoo chuckled at that. He then proceeded to take a sip of your smoothie before officially handing it off to you.

You stayed frozen for a second before grabbing the smoothie and wiping the straw with your shirt.

Absolutely no indirect kisses will be occurring today.

Getting up from your spot, you begin to mindlessly walk toward the closest pathway near you, the weather is pretty nice today. After a few steps, you turned around to see a rather puzzled Wonwoo looking back at you but he still followed nonetheless.

“You’re a little too chirpy today… what happened to the oh-so-serious biker? Hmm?” You playfully poked at him as you said it, enjoying the sweet flavor of the smoothie he had gotten for you.

Wonwoo scoffed softly, holding back his laugh, “He’s still here, he just happens to be in a good mood now that his little birdy is talking to him again.”

But before you can even think of a snarky response Wonwoo continued.

“But if that’s what you’re into then I can always play the part for you,” he said with a smirk, his words smothered in arrogance.

You scoffed, amused by the implication he made. “Ew it’s definitely not like that.”

“Oh, but it can be.” Wonwoo moved closer to you, effectively closing the space between you both. His cologne invaded your senses once again; this time, it was proving much more difficult for you to escape from his grasp. His gaze was unwavering as he looked at your face or to be more exact, your lips.

After what felt like an eternity, Wonwoo finally pulled himself away from you. He smirked at the very flustered state that he had just left you in. It was clear that there was a mutual attraction between the two of you, an attraction you were trying to reject.

It was a challenge that Wonwoo was more than ready to handle.

You cleared your throat, "As fun as it was hanging out after class... I think that it's about time for me to head back home," you said as you recomposed yourself.

Technically speaking, there wasn't anything waiting for you back at your place but you felt that if you stayed a second longer things would definitely escalate between the two of you.

And again, your little stunt didn't go unnoticed by Wonwoo but he also wasn't surprised, if anything, he expected you to pull away like this. That was one of the first things he had noticed when he initially started talking to you, always leaving before things could really develop. It was cute in a way, but he was eventually going to get you out of your shell, it was only a matter of when.

Wonwoo faintly smiled to himself, “Okay but before I let you go, we should come up with a day to start our project together.”

Fuck. You forgot about that.

He continued, “How about this Friday? I have nothing going on that day.” Wonwoo's eyes landed on your figure as you went on your phone to check your work schedule for the upcoming week.

“Ugh, I have to go out with Hyunwoo that day,” you said just as your eyes landed on Sunday, it was completely open.

“…but how about this Sunday? I don’t work that day.” You looked up toward Wonwoo's eyes, hopeful that it could work out.

A million thoughts raced through Wonwoo's head. You're going out with Hyunwoo? Like as in a date or...? No, he has to stay composed.

“That works for me,” he mumbled, his gaze went toward the ground, kicking a few pebbles before looking at you once again, “but what’s going on with you and Hyunwoo?”

You couldn't help but laugh at Wonwoo's question which earned you a scowl from him. God, you were going to have so much fun with this.

“Why do you ask?” This was the perfect opportunity to get back at Wonwoo for teasing you earlier so like the tease that you are, you decided to play dumb with him. “Are you perhaps… jealous?” You said with a loud gasp as a way to rile him up, your hands flying to your mouth for dramatic effect.

You continued, "Don't worry Hyunwoo is just a boy who also happens to be my friend." Wonwoo's face physically hardened at the idea of Hyunwoo being your boyfriend. He knew that you saw him on a regular basis but he had yet to see any real signs that you were actually dating him.

Patting his back in a comforting manner you then explained, "Relax, don't get your panties in a twist. If you have to know, Hyunwoo is just a friend." While it was fun teasing him you most certainly did not want him to get the wrong idea about you and Hyunwoo.

"But if I'm being honest it was kind of fun bullying you, I should do that more often." It couldn't be helped! You just had to add that last part.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Oh wow, who knew you were a sadist.” His tone was playful, an evil grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he played along with your banter.

Your jaw dropped at his comment, huffing out a loud, “Wonwoo!”

He raised his hands up in a surrender, “I'm kidding! I'm kidding… or maybe not.” Which then earned him a slap on his bicep.

“You truly are shameless,” you muttered out loud for him to hear.

By this point, Wonwoo had taken the lead as the two of you walked away from the courtyard. It was only until you were at the school's parking lot that you realized that he had purposely taken you here.

There was a beat of silence before Wonwoo let out a soft sigh. "Would you look at that... my bike happens to be over there..." He nudged you in the direction of where he had parked his bike a few hours prior.

Wonwoo let out another pathetic sigh, "It would be rude of me to just let you walk back home you know?" This time he grabbed a hold of your hand as he led you directly in front of his bike.

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at the implication that he just made. There's absolutely no way that you are getting on his bike.

"Uh... I'm not so sure this is a good idea Won-"

Wonwoo shushes you and hands you a spare helmet, a shit-eating grin plastered over his stupidly handsome face.

"Just trust me," he says as he slides your tote inside his backpack, "that should hold everything in place." Wonwoo then handed the backpack to you, waiting for you to put it on, his eyes landing on your terrified figure.

This was going to be fun.

Part Three: Coming Soon…

[nxuvillette]

“I PROMISE, IT WILL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN.”

GENSHIN MEN COMFORTING YOU AFTER A FIGHT

synopsis: you and your boyfriend hardly ever fight, so what happens when you finally have one?

❥- including : tartaglia (childe), cyno, kaeya, wriothesley

❥- note : hi guys !! sorry if this post is kind of shit, i kind of rushed it. i hope you guys enjoy regardless <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, angst, arguing, hurt with comfort, use of pet names (baby), fluff, dumb fights, lots and lots of fluff at the end.

♡ TARTAGLIA (CHILDE)

you and childe hadn’t spoken for much of the day, and this was due to an argument that happened between you two just before you sat down for some breakfast.

it was stupid, genuinely. 

childe had completely misinterpreted something you had said that morning. you were talking about one of your friends and their relationship. for some reason, childe thought you were comparing your relationship to the one your friend had, and it made him question if he was doing enough to make you happy. one thing led to another, and the two of you bickered over the encounter. you tried to explain yourself, but your boyfriend, being the stubborn man he was, didn’t bother to listen and went off on his own accord.

you and childe hardly had any fights. they would usually resolve after an hour or two, but you hadn’t seen him all day. part of you began to grow worried from his sudden absence. did he go out and do something to hurt himself? was he with somebody else? no, there was no way childe would ever cheat on you. he didn’t even look in another woman’s direction when he saw you that day. 

it wasn’t until sunset when childe had finally returned home to you. he had a few scrapes on his arms which seemed like they came from him battling another enemy, but regardless, he seemed to be in one piece. you were very relieved to see that he was fine. it made you run into his arms the moment he came into the door, which took your boyfriend by surprise. he was under the impression that you were still pissed off at him for the shit that he had pulled early on in the day. he knew he was wrong and he should have apologized, but he didn’t know how to put it into words. sometimes he wished he wasn’t so air headed. 

his arm went around your waist, bringing your body closer to his. the smell of his skin made you calm down. “i thought something bad happened to you..” your eyes didn’t move from the floor. 

childe could sense the worry that was in your voice. he shouldn’t have done that to you. he would never want to make you feel scared or put you under the idea that he would leave you. he wasn’t going to ever leave like that again, ever. “i’m sorry, baby..” he whispered, running his fingers along your backside. “i’m such an idiot.. i shouldn’t have said that shit. i love you way too much to hurt you..” 

you lifted your head to meet his ocean blue eyes. he had this frown on his features. you could see how guilty he felt for putting you in such a position. no matter what, you would always be in love with childe. no small argument would make your feelings for him shift, ever. you knew he could be stubborn at times, and honestly, so could you. all that mattered to you in the end was that you two made up and forget the whole thing. “it’s okay.. i still love you, okay?” you smiled at him, which made his heart skip a beat.

childe couldn’t help but smile, too. he leaned towards you and planted a kiss on your lips. he didn’t ever want to see you frown again. he would do anything to see a smile on your pretty face. “let me make up for it.. how about we take a bath together, hm?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows. 

you nodded your head. “sure..” you grinned.

♡ CYNO

you didn’t expect cyno to get upset earlier. 

cyno was in a bit of a rush that afternoon. he had a lot of things to tend to as the mahamatra, so he typically had a busy schedule. at the time, you had no idea that he had to be somewhere at a certain hour, so when you saw your lover wandering around aaru village by himself, you decided to go and talk with him to ask how his day was.

he kept his responses to you a bit shorter than usual, but that’s how he usually was. cyno was more the type of man to listen more than he did talk, but the more you kept speaking, the more he grew somewhat irritated. he had to meet with candace and discuss something that had occurred on his way there. he had to return as quickly as possible, though, because there were several people who needed his help out there. 

cyno had accidentally snapped at you, which in turn made you fire back at him.

it was very out of the ordinary for him to ever get angry with you. cyno was very patient, and he was especially with you. he was never the kind of man to be rude to you or yell at you, ever, so this threw you off completely. before he could even apologize, you left and went back to the place you two shared together. 

he didn’t return home until later that night. he had been thinking about what he had done all day, and it made him feel guilty for being that way towards you. you were his girlfriend. he loved you more than anybody else, and he managed to hurt your feelings because he was unable to control his very own. cyno hoped you wouldn’t want to leave him. anxiety plagued him the entire day. he wondered if he would return back to you and find that you deserted the home you two stayed in. 

much to his relief, you were lying in bed. you were turned on your side that was facing the window which exposed the vast desert outside. he sat down beside you and watched as your eyes fluttered open at the sudden weight taking over the bed. 

“i’m sorry..” cyno whispered, looking down at you with amber eyes. 

you sat up, crossing your legs on the mattress. you didn’t think he would come back being so apologetic, but you couldn’t help but forgive him. it did hurt your feelings a lot, but he was dealing with so much. it didn’t excuse what he did, but you two never fight. he wasn’t argumentative everyday. “it’s okay.. i just felt like shit for bothering you. i should have considered your schedule..” you didn’t want to look at him, but he tilted your chin to look into your eyes. 

cyno leaned in and hugged you, which took you by surprise. “no need.. i was an asshole for not controlling myself. you didn’t deserve any of that..” he squeezed your body. “i love you.. i hope you can forgive me.”

your hand rested on his shoulder blade. his skin felt warm from the blazing heat of the sun that he was under constantly. “i love you too..” you spoke. “i can forgive you, no worries.”

♡ KAEYA

you and kaeya had been dating for quite a while. since you were his girlfriend, there were some things that you needed to get accustomed to in the relationship.

especially kaeya’s drinking habit.

you didn’t mind that he would go off to the bars some nights to have a few drinks with his friends. hell, you did it a few times yourself with your own friends, but it became an issue when he would come late to your dates due to him being hungover the next day. you knew he couldn’t help but sleep an extra hour or two through the morning, but it had happened a few times and it led up to an argument occurring between you. you claimed it was a bother to you and he wasn’t being considerate of your time and energy.

what made it worse was kaeya usually was the one to make these plans, so for him to just not show up, it felt unfair to you. if he knew he was going to drink a lot, why would he continue to make plans with you the next day? it didn’t make any sense to you whatsoever, and you were tired of him either not showing up or having to go to his house to wake him up.

when you stormed out of his house and the door slammed behind you, kaeya felt immediate regret plaguing his chest. he did everything for you in the relationship and you did the same for him. he felt like he was an idiot for letting his drinking habits get a hold of your relationship. he didn’t have a drinking problem by any means, but he knew when he had too much he wouldn’t want to do anything the next day. you were right. it was unfair of him to miss out on spending quality time with you. he didn’t want to make you feel unimportant or a second priority. kaeya loved you more than life itself. how could he hurt the one person he poured his heart and soul into?

he gave you a bit of time to blow off steam. he knew chasing after you could escalate things further, so he decided to leave you alone for the rest of the day. however, he wasn’t about to let you both go to bed angry with each other.

so, when he showed up at your doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, you were quite surprised. you didn’t think kaeya would even bother making an effort to talk things through with you, but he was standing there with an apologetic expression. “can we talk? i understand if not.. but i just don’t want you going to bed pissed at me.” he clutched the flower stems in his hand, hoping you would hear him out.

you nodded your head, inviting him into your home and watching him step inside. kaeya then turned to face you, handing the flowers in your direction. they were your favorite, lamp grass. you loved the way they glowed in the dark. “kaeya.. i’m-“ you started, taking the flowers from him.

“i’m sorry.. i didn’t mean to keep missing out on our dates. i was a shitty boyfriend for keeping up with my behavior, and i shouldn’t have been doing that in the first place.” he cut you off, shocking you. “i love you, (y/n), and i don’t want you to think otherwise.”

you stood there for a few moments in silence. you weren’t sure what to say to him, but you could sense his genuine energy in his voice. “i forgive you..” you said, lifting your eyes to meet his. “i don’t want it to happen again, okay? i love to spend time with you and i don’t wanna feel like you dislike my presence.”

he took your free hand into his, placing a soft kiss on the top of it. he had been a gentleman since day one and it seemed like that attribute of him never left his personality. “i love seeing you more than anybody else, please don’t think you’re a burden. i’d do anything to spend any waking moment with you by my side, okay? i won’t ever do it again.” kaeya replied, stepping closer to where you were standing.

you smiled, pressing a kiss on the side of his cheek. he loved how soft your lips felt against his skin. “i appreciate that..” you sounded much happier, which relieved him.

kaeya wasn’t going to do that ever again. he could never lose you, ever.

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley was quite a busy man. it was something you knew you were signing up for when you started to date him a few months back. his job was tiring, exhausting even. he had a huge responsibility on his shoulders to carry, and sometimes it stressed him out more than he would like to admit.

it seemed like that stress began to reach its breaking point, because wriothesley hadn’t been acting right over the last few days. you assumed he was just dealing with his job, so you decided to try and see if venting would have any relief to your boyfriend. you two had done it many times before when things got a little hectic in your personal lives. plus, you both trusted each other greatly. you didn’t think he would have an issue with it.

well, you were wrong, unfortunately.

when you made the attempt to speak to your boyfriend about what was wrong, he had a serious attitude, and things escalated to you two both having a fight. you didn’t like the way he was speaking to you and he was becoming upset with you for no reason at all. all you had asked him was if he wanted to talk, but it seemed like that question alone must have ruffled his feathers. 

you two never fought, so this had completely blindsided you.

wriothesley then left for work, leaving you by yourself in the apartment you lived in. it wasn’t your intention to make him angry with you. all you wanted to know was what was troubling him to make him feel so overwhelmed. that fact crept up on wriothesley immediately after he entered his office at the fortress. he shouldn’t have snapped at you that way. it wasn’t right, nor was it excusable. he was the one person who was supposed to make you happy, not hurt.

a few hours later, he returned home a lot earlier than usual. things were slow at the fortress, so he decided to leave early and try to patch things up with you. he found you sitting on the couch with a book in your hands, seemingly trying to read away what had happened earlier between you. you were a bit taken back to see him standing in front of you, but you didn’t know what to say to him. 

“i’m sorry.. i was out of line earlier.” he broke the silence between you. it was like popping a balloon. “i get it if you’re pissed at me.. i can give you space if you’d like.”

you sat there for a few moments. you closed the book in your hands and placed it on the wooden table in front of you. wriothesley was right. he shouldn’t have been that much of an ass to you. you didn’t deserve such treatment, but you loved him. he was never like that towards you and your friends had told you before that random fights are normal. “it’s okay.. i forgive you.” you replied, standing up to go in front of him. “please.. just promise me you won’t do that again.” 

his hands went to cup your cheeks. his thumbs brushed against your smooth skin. you could see how guilty he felt for doing what he had done. “i promise.. i swear, (y/n), i’ll never do that again. i could never hurt you like that, ever again.” he looked down at you with sincerity on his features. 

you leaned in to hug him. wriothesley inhaled the fresh scent of your shampoo and felt immediately calmed from your touch. he loved you, dearly. he could never do that to you again and he vowed to never pull a stunt like that with you ever again.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[parfaitblogs]

peace ❀ s. reid x reader

in which you self isolate, and spencer knows better than to let it get too bad. 

pairing: spencer reid x reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. suicide ideation? ("i want it to end"). depression. lots of stuff that coincides with that. brief mention of reader not eating/having no food. please be aware of your triggers. i think i mention reader as a girl somewhere? word count: 1.9k a/n: i finished this then relistened to peace (taylor swift) which was the og inspo for this, and added a section in the middle so if it feels weird its because i failed at integrating it! this was supposed to be out two days ago. all my relationship insecurities in a fic. lol how embarrassing here's my heart tumblr dot com!! anyways enjoy ily all

also posted here on my ao3 !

Three consistent raps against your front door was the only sound that got you up that day, pyjamas that you had not shed from your body in a week hanging off a frame that could probably be described as lifeless — with the nearly dead-looking face to match.

In fact, the only thing to prove you were still a living human being aside from your movement, was the pink hue around your eyes, on your nose, and above your lips, indicating how much you had cried recently. 

Usually, it isn't this bad. You just need a day or two of rotting in your apartment and doing nothing but scrolling on your phone until it died, staring at the wall, or — on the better days — watching reruns of a 90s sitcom that you don't really watch. 

But it was exceptionally bad this time around, for some odd reason, and not one part of you actually wanted to get up and out of bed for long enough to be productive about your day. Your phone had died again, after charging it two days ago, which meant you were on day six of no communication with anybody. Which might partly be why it was so bad now. 

You had a blanket wrapped around your body, dragging against the floor as you wiped your eyes and let out a small sigh, unlocking your front door and opening it, completely unsurprised by the person standing on the other side. 

He was the only one who ever paid enough attention to your disappearing act when you were like this. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you — which is kind of amusing, considering you thought you looked like death reincarnate currently. 

Neither of you said anything as you stepped aside to allow him in, the door clicking shut behind him as he placed down the leather bag he had slung over his body, turning back to you as he finally allowed the frown to appear — one you knew he would've had the entire way here.

"Have you eaten today?" was the first thing to break the silence — the question coming out so gentle you were sure you'd break down again at some point in the next few seconds. 

You wordlessly shook your head, and he nodded his own, saying nothing else as he walked into your kitchen, knowing you'd trail behind him no matter what. 

He opened your fridge first, before closing it when he was greeted with the alarming sight of nothing. Doing the same with your pantry, at which he turned around to look at you.

"Angel, you have no food," he said. And while it held no malice in the tone of his voice, you could tell he was slightly annoyed at the fact. Your heart ached. 

"I know. I'm sorry," you mumbled, and his eyebrows creased inwards. 

He didn't mention your apology — arguing with you about your vast use of 'sorry's' is futile. "Do you want a pizza?" he asked instead, and even though you, mentally, did not, you knew he wasn't actually asking. So you only nodded your head, and found a place at your countertop, the blanket falling from your body and pooling to the ground in a heap.

He ordered a pizza, and then he was nudging your knees apart, standing between them while you stayed sat on a stool, his chin atop your head, that was buried into his chest. 

And he said nothing, as he held you like that until the pizza arrived. And then he ensured you had at least eaten two slices, the remainders going in your fridge for the next meal you needed to eat. 

He was so kind to you, with his every movement, as he dragged you into the bathroom to help you shower. 

It was heartbreaking, the love you could see in his eyes. The tenderness in every stroke of his fingers against your scalp as he washed your hair, the softness in his touch as he did the same to your body. He gently dried you, told you to stay there, disappeared, and returned with one of his many t-shirts left in your apartment drawers. 

That was when you cracked. When he pulled the shirt over your head, that smelled so painfully Spencer and you. The mix of his clean scent and your own laundry detergent that you were so accustomed to, triggering something in you.

So, you crumpled to the floor of your bathroom, and he followed soon after, his arms wrapped around your body once more, firm enough to keep you still as you sobbed into his chest. 

You weren't sure how long you stayed like that for. Long enough for your head to hurt, and your eyes to sting, and hideous snot bubbles to stain his cardigan. 

When your sobs subsided, he spoke. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he said, quietly, and you shook your head. 

"Don't know what to talk about," you mumbled, and he knew that all too well.

He nodded his own head. "Did something happen?"

"Lots of little things."

"Yeah? You wanna tell me about them?"

You hesitated, because you didn't know where to begin. But then you nodded your head wordlessly, swallowing the lump — and, by extension, the sob — in your throat. "I fell down on the stairs at the train station in front of everybody. And then I missed my stop, and I was late to work. And I had a huge project due, but I didn't finish it, and I forgot I hadn't finished it, and I was anxious about it all day. And I think my friends are just pretending to be my friends, because I keep trying to make plans with one of them, and she keeps blowing me off for her boyfriend. And I'm just really sick of being sad all the time, Spencer. I want it to end."

With the onslaught of your bad vignettes throughout the past month coming back up, you broke down, again. Another sob escaping your lips as you pushed your fists down into the tops of his thighs.

If it hurt, he didn't say anything; simply continued to hold you against his chest, on the floor of your bathroom, that, if it were any other time, he would be having a field day rambling about the germs you both were currently sitting on. 

He also didn't say anything for a while as you sobbed, instead his fingers entangled gently in your hair, and he peppered kisses along the top of your head. 

"I don't want it to end for you," he finally said. His hands slid down from your scalp to your face, holding your cheeks with such tender, pulling you back so he could look at you. 

You sniffled. "I'm so exhausted."

"I know, my love. I know," he sighed, thumbs caressing over your cheekbones. "Ending it won't fix that. You know, logically, however you die is the state you'll be in, in the afterlife. So if you die while you're exhausted..."

"You don't believe in the afterlife," you answer, but his words still cracked through your tearful expression, and your lips twitched with a small smile. 

He returned the small smile, nodding his head. "That's true. But I also don't know anything about post-death. I could be wrong."

"How terrible," you mutter, and he laughed, quietly. 

"I know," he mused, falling silent for a few moments longer, with only both of your quiet breathing to break the silence. 

His fingers ran through your hair once more, and you sniffled audibly, your brain wandering away from the small content you had felt in that exchange, and back to one of the many reasons why you had isolated in the first place. 

"Why are you still with me?" you said, slicing through the silence all at once. 

You watched the smile fall, and his eyebrows furrowed, and his lips part as he went — and hesitated — to say something. "What do you mean?"

"I'm difficult." Your voice is impossibly small, and it breaks a crack in his heart as his eyes soften. 

"No. You're not," he reassured. 

"Yes I am," you breathed out — and then the tears came back. "I get sad and then I stop responding and stop seeing you, and you don't get any warning even though I know you should, and I feel so awful every time but then that makes me feel worse. And I'm sad all the fucking time, Spencer. I mean, I get upset when you aren't at home and you have to deal with all those messages and calls even though you hate texting, but then you get home and I'm isolating myself because I'm sad, on top of all the other things that make me sad, and you deserve better. You deserve someone who can give you their all and—and—"

"Hey," he cut you off, as did the sob that was ripped from your throat. "No. That's not what we're going to do. Do not sit there and tell me what I do and don't deserve." 

"But you do deserve better."

"No," he sighed, resting his forehead on your own, warm breath fanning across your face that usually made you scrunch your face up and pull away, now comforting you. "Do you love me?"

"What? Yes, of course I do. Why would you even—"

"—That is the only requirement I have for you," he said, oh so simply. When you didn't reply, he pressed, "Okay?"

"Okay," you murmured, and he relaxes a little.

More silence fell between you, your tears subsiding and your shaking body relaxing a little more. 

Then, "Did you hurt yourself when you fell down?"

You nodded your head, reluctantly pulling back from him so you could show him. You pointed to a yellowing bruise just below your knee, and the grazes on the bottom halves of your palms. 

"Oh, wow. Look at these," Spencer said, running a thumb gently over the grazes on your hands. "You're braver than me. These would've taken me out."

You laughed, and you saw his face light up at the progress he was making with you, and your mood. 

He then pulled you back into his chest. More silence, but less anxiety, and you sat comfortably in his arms for a few moments longer. 

"Did I worry you?" you say. "Not responding?"

You were so close to him you could hear his breath hitch, and you prepared yourself for a lie about how he wasn't worried at all. Except; "Honestly? Yes."

"Oh."

He exhaled, shakily, and you were kind of glad he couldn't see your sadder expression, half-buried into his chest. 

"You've never gone that long without checking in," he then explained. "The first two days I got what was going on. By the fourth I figured you still needed space. Today I just had a gut feeling."

"Just a gut feeling?" you echoed, and you felt his head nod against your own. 

"Thought you might need someone."

You sighed. "I hate that you're a genius."

"No you don't."

"No, I don't."

His fingers entangled in your hair again. "I also didn't figure you needed me here because I'm a genius."

"No? Then how?" you asked.

"It's simple," he murmured, tugging your head back oh so gently so he could look at you again — puffy eyed, and tear-stained cheeks and all. "I just know."

"That's the most illogical sentence I've ever heard leave your mouth."

He laughed, and you smiled again.

"Come on," he then said, untangling your limbs and pulling the both of you up to your feet, hands ghosting your waist to hold you steady. "I am willing to sit through whatever awful movie you want me to watch."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #14

synopsis: when attack on titan characters make you cry 💦

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, sasha, connie, reiner, annie, bertolt, levi, erwin and hange.

notes: 2 posts in 2 days! arent you a lucky bugger x

☆ eren jaeger

it’s really situational for eren, he cannot take you seriously if you’re in a bad situation. if you’re on the battle field or doing anything important to do with titans, strategy plans etc. he will tell you that you can’t be crying in that moment. HOWEVER, if you’re not in any of those situations he is so empathetic!! my little baby is so sweet to you like, he’s like putty in your hands especially if he’s the one making you cry, oh my god. he would just DIE and probably cry with you.

☆ mikasa ackerman

her eyes soften… her eyebrows pinch together… her lip quivers and tilts into a frown… SHES SO DISTRAUGHT, HOW COULD SHE DO THIS? SHES SO STUPID GAHHH. super mellow, super quiet and of course, super sweet. she’ll approach you like you’re a fragile animal in the woods that she doesn’t wanna scare. she genuinely couldn’t think of anything worse in this world than upsetting you and her being that reason? HER HEARTTT, she’ll drop her nonchalant dread head act immediately and silently reassure you with physical affection.

☆ armin arlert

breaks the boys heart. he is absolutely and utterly DESTROYED. his self-esteem reaches an all time low in that very moment, as soon as that one tear fell of the apple of your cheek, GOD. he wanted the world to swallow him while to be honest, he was so upset and embarrassed he made you cry! but obviously, he really tried not to be selfish and start crying as he didn’t want to take any attention off you but trust, by the end of it, he will be crying alongside you.

☆ jean kirstein

god he is just so gentle, so caring, so comforting, so patient. he KNOWS exactly how to comfort you - he apologises profusely, sits with you, hugs you, talks the whole situation through with you LIKE UGH, and whatever it was that made you cry i can promise you this man WILL FIX THE FUCK UP! he lives to serve you and make you happy 🙇.

☆ connie springer

very quiet afterwards… he just feels really awkward, he wishes he could reverse time and just pretend nothing happened 😭. he’s like, do we break up now orrr…? he will eventually say sorry and become less awkward but, he definitely shows his sympathy through physical affection. after everything’s died down, he cracks a joke or two.

☆ sasha braus

SHES SO SWEET, definitely also awkward and she doesn’t realise you’re being serious for the first 2 minutes but afterwards oh my god, she’s so apologetic!! she gives does acts of service as an apology and of course, says sorry. profusely.

☆ reiner braun

breaks him into a million bijillion pieces. he turns into a puddle like, he just dies. HE made YOU cry? his life is over. sooo apologetic & he makes sure to let you know that he is! he will not be over this for days, days i tell you, he will continue to make it up to you even if you’re over it in like an hour.

☆ annie leonhart

she’s in shock honestly. she didn’t think you would be so upset over what she had said… but most of all, she’s shocked that seeing you upset had such a big impact on her. what- what was this? oh my god, she’s crying? because you’re crying? she’s in deepp😭. keeps her tears to her self and apologises to you and you make sure to tease her because you saw those tears!!

☆ bertolt hoover

crying with you. not in a way that would steal any attention from you or what he did to make you cry, he really tried to stop himself but after trying to not cry and apologise, he breaks down and now you’re both crying. a lot of ‘i’m sorry’ and ‘i love you’, ‘i won’t do that again‘s are being thrown around and it’s just an adorable sobbing, loving mess.

☆ levi ackerman

errrmmm, it’s kind of tough for him. he’s been very desensitised to mostly everything, even horrid things like people being eaten alive by titans, literally watching them be ripped limb from limb yk? the usual stuff! anyways, he does feel bad though because of course, he loves you. and he never wants to hurt you or be the cause of your pain so, he does apologise even if it doesn’t sound very normal coming from his mouth, lol.

☆ erwin smith

he feels bad, of course. he’s a very respectable, normal man so, as any other person, he’ll apologise for making you feel that way, say he won’t do it again, say he loves you and move on with his day.

☆ hange zoë

NOOOO THEY CANT BELIEVE THEYVE DONE THIS!! tragedy has struck 😔. they will do everything in their power to make it up to you, they will do a simple, straightforward and sincere apologise HOWEVER, afterwards they’ll do something extra for you, just as a cherry on top like, a candle lit dinner in your house or something along those lines ^o^.

[sanakiras]

TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE

PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.

TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort

NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!

the moment he calls out a greeting to you from his kitchen, you close your eyes for a moment. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.

you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.

you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”

the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.

“everything okay?”

“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.

he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.

“baby, talk to me.”

“about what?”

the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.

you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.

of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.

you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”

“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the lump in your throat begins to rise.

“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”

you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.

it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.

it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.

then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.

the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.

“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”

he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.

“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”

he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don’t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”

the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.

“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”

once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”

he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.

with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”

“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.

“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”

“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”

deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.

you don’t really understand why.

“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”

now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”

“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”

you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”

to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime. i’m here for you.”

even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.

do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[potterrstar]

do you miss us? ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

sirius black x fem!reader

summary: james wants to ask lily out, but she can't because she's always with y/n, so sirius decides to help him a little, that means spending a little time with his ex girlfriend.

warnings: a lil bit of angst! and then fluff! sirius and reader used to date, and a lot of jily!

word count: 2.5 k

a/n: hi everyone, hope you are doing great, this is literally my first post ever! i'm excited but at the same time i find everything super weird, i'm trying to settle in so i'm sorry for any mistakes, i hope to improve!

───❃•❃•❃───

Sirius was a bit fed up with James if he was honest, not to be misunderstood, he adores James with all his heart but he just wouldn't shut up about Lily. The worst part was that he wouldn't ask her out, he could talk about her all day but he wouldn't make a single attempt to ask her to Hogsmeade or anything.

"I understand how much you like her, Prongs, I just don't understand why you don't ask her out, it doesn't have to be anything exotic, you know?" Sirius fiddled with his wand, sitting on the couch in the common room.

"Because she's with y/n all the time! Lily's never alone, I can never get to talk to her, you know, alone" James sighed dropping his body into the chair at the table.

Y/n. It was even a little hard for him to think about her, they hadn't ended in the worst possible way, it just didn't work out the way they would have liked it to in the first place. They had only broken up a couple of months ago, sometimes he thought he missed her, the times he didn't miss her it was because he convinced himself that he didn't, but however! They were still friends… Or something like that, at least he hoped so.

"Well, interrupt them, I don't think y/n would mind you stealing Lily away for a bit" Sirius rolled his eyes.

James plopped down at the table, giving an exaggerated sigh "This is it, we're never going to date, or get married, or have kids, or-"

Sirius interrupted him laughing "What are you talking about? Calm down mate, it's not as bad as you think" Sirius got up, sat down next to James and gave him a little pat on his shoulder "Look, at the weekend we're all going to Hogsmeade, there you can buy her a drink or go for a walk, yeah? You're not finished."

───❃•❃•❃───

It was already the weekend! You were extremely excited as you hadn't been out to Hogsmeade for weeks, there had been so much homework and exams lately that there was no time for anything. An outing like this was a huge respite.

"Look, sour popsicles! James used to give me these in first year" Lily showed you the little colourful lollipops. Just now you were in Honeydukes buying sweets out of hand. It was going to be Marlene's birthday soon and you wanted to throw her a big party.

You gave a little chuckle. "Yeah, let's take those too" You thought it was a bit funny how much Lily talked about James, she did, even if it was unconscious, James here, James there! It didn't bother you though, it was nice to see her denying it.

"What are you laughing at?" Lily asked you with a frown.

"Oh! James used to buy me these! He's so cute! I want to marry him!" You mimicked her laughing.

"What are you talking about? I never said that, I don't even talk like that! Pretty bad imitation of you, huh?" Lily was completely offended, which again made you laugh.

"Oh, hi, James!" You said looking behind Lily, as if James was there, which he wasn't. You just liked to tease Lily.

Lily turned around quickly, arranging her hair, nervously. "Where did you see him? I can't find him." Lily searched for James with her eyes.

"Come on, Lily" You said laughing as you gave her an obvious look.

Lily turned to you, noticing your stare. "Oh leave me alone." Lily's gaze dropped a little, which worried you a little.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel bad." You patted her shoulder a little in apology.

You played this way with Lily all the time, it never bothered her, you don't know what her sudden sadness is about.

"Don't worry, it's not that, it's just- I don't know, do you think James likes me? I mean, I know he always jokes about it, but he's never tried to go out with me, we've never even had a conversation alone."

"Lily, are you kidding me? All of Hogwarts knows that James Potter has an absolute and complete crush on Lily Evans" You laughed a little, which caused her to laugh too. "Come on, Li, don't be put off by that! He's probably even around, all of us students came, I don't think he's the exception."

Lily smiled gratefully at you "You're right. Thank you, sweetheart."

Suddenly, James appeared behind Lily, this time in earnest.

"What's up, Potter?" you greeted the brunet, not to mention that your ex-boyfriend was standing next to him.

"Listen, Y/n, I don't think it's funny a second time," Lily demanded.

"A second time of what?" James asked behind Lily, giving her the fright of her life.

"James!" Lily shrieked. "Lily!" James shouted back, imitating her.

As the two of them frolicked around as they always did, you shared a couple of glances with the black-haired boy next to James. You examined him a little better, you hadn't seen him in a couple of days, he was wearing his white shirt with the first few buttons open revealing a bit of his chest, he had half his hair up, a little longer than he had when you were done, his eyes looked greyer than they normally did. He looked good. He always did.

"Hello," you said, giving him an uncomfortable look. It was a little hard to meet those eyes that were once yours.

"Uh, hi…" He responded in kind. He was having a hard time seeing your eyes, which were once his.

You don't know at what point Lily and James ended whatever conversation they were having, but Lily turned to you. "I'm doing some shopping with Y/n, sorry" Lily apologised to James.

"But Y/n doesn't mind, do you?" James said looking at you, you looked back at him wanting to know what the hell he was supposed to be talking about. Maybe, just maybe, you missed a lot in the pale boy in front of you.

"Umm, sorry I- I wasn't listening" you stammered a little looking at them.

"James was just telling me that, if we could go to The Three Broomsticks, but you know we're buying Marlene's birthday stuff and I don't want to leave you alone" Lily said looking at the floor.

You realised that this was the opportunity Lily had been waiting for a long time. "Are you kidding? It's fine, it's perfect, don't worry about me, we don't have much shopping to do anyway." You told them with a smile.

"See? Everything is fine," James looked at Lily.

Lily analysed the situation, it was clear that she wanted to go out with James, but leaving her friend didn't sound like a viable option. "No, James, I'm sorry, I really don't want to leave her alone." Lily said somewhat sadly.

Sirius, on the other hand, also saw the situation. He knew Lily wasn't going to leave her friend shopping for things on her own, and he also knew how depressed James was going to be for the rest of the month if Lily turned him down for the one way out he had risked asking her. He thought about staying with Y/n, not that he wanted to of course, but it was for the greater good, it was definitely for that, he was only going to help his friend, it had nothing to do with him.

"Maybe-" Sirius suddenly spat and everyone looked at him "Maybe I can stay with you" He turned to look at you and you felt your heart skip a beat. Stay with you? Just today was the first time you'd been with him in the same room for more than ten seconds without running out since you broke up. "I mean, to help you finish shopping, after all Marlene our friend right?" Sirius tried not to make it sound like he needed to spend time with his ex-girlfriend, which he kinda did.

Lily and James smiled "Actually, it does sound good" Lily said with a bit of hope and James felt his soul return to his body.

You were paraplegic, saying yes meant spending, Merlin knows how much time alone with your ex-boyfriend who you're probably not over, but it also meant that Lily could finally go on a date with the guy she liked and the truth is that didn't sound bad at all, I mean, you knew how excited she was about that and there's nothing you wouldn't do for your best friend, even go shopping with your ex-boyfriend, why not?

"Sounds good" You gave a genuine smile "I hope you're good at picking out candy" You joked to Sirius.

"I think I am" Sirius gave you a wink. You felt yourself turn a little red.

"Thanks Y/n, I promise I'll make it up to you, I love you!" Lily said as James led her out of the tent. You laughed a little at this and Sirius mimicked you.

"I really hope they get married because I can't stand it anymore" Sirius rolled his eyes and that made you laugh.

"What?" You asked him as you looked at the shelves of candy.

"James!" He expelled as if he was taking a weight off his shoulders "I swear to Merlin that's all he talks about!"

"Is it that bad?" You looked at him, you watched as a couple of strands of hair fell across his forehead, you felt the urge to move them, but you couldn't, not anymore.

Sirius rolled his eyes "You doubt it? The worst thing is that I'm the only one he tells, Remus and Peter are smart enough to ignore it."

You laughed "Poor thing, Sirius. He's just very much in love."

Sirius sighed "Well, I was never like that."

You gave him a somewhat sly look, wondering if Sirius ever talked about you like that with James.

Sirius immediately caught your gaze and stumbled a bit over his words "I mean- Not that I wasn't in love like that- Just that I never bothered him that much about it- Not that it bothered me being in love with you- you know." Sirius cursed inwardly, it was kind of funny, he thought of himself as a confident person, somewhat boastful even but when it came to you, all of that just disappeared.

"Don't worry, I get it" You smiled a little "I think I used to annoy Lily a lot" Remembering when you first liked Sirius.

"Did you?" he asked curiously.

"Quite a lot. I hope she wasn't that bothered" You laughed a little.

Sirius smiled "I don't think so, how could you ever bother anyone?"

You rolled your eyes "Don't do that" You said to Sirius.

"Do what?" he laughed, feigning innocence.

"That thing you do, you're flirting with me, don't do that." You smiled.

"I'm not!" He defended himself offended "I'm just telling the truth, which is different."

"Shut up" You rolled your eyes smiling. For a moment you felt everything like it was before, and for a moment you wished everything was like it was before.

Sirius relaxed his face a little "I mean it, you genuinely are the most interesting person I know, I don't see any way for you to annoy or bore anyone."

You felt a bit of tension in the air so you made a little joke to ease it "I know I'm the best thing you ever had, you don't have to tell me."

Sirius laughed "Hey don't you think that's enough candy?" he said looking at the bag you were carrying, you didn't even realise how much you were carrying from talking to him.

"Oh Merlin, you're right, more than enough, let's go pay."

You and Sirius walked over to pay, so you took out the money you had counted with Lily yesterday, you paid and you walked out of the shop, Sirius helping you with the bags.

There had been a freak snowstorm at Hogwarts a few days ago, even though it was the middle of June. Professor McGonagall at first thought it was a prank by the Marauders, eventually she found out it wasn't them as James told her that they didn't play pranks on that silly level. Then she found out it was a prank by some Hufflepuff second graders, honestly you found it funny, they couldn't reverse the spell so we had to wait a couple of weeks for the snow to stop.

"What should we do? I honestly don't think James and Lily are done." Sirius looked at you.

"Definitely not, I think we should head back to the castle so we can take advantage of Marlene being around and I can hide this well" You smiled at him.

Sirius nodded and took off his coat and placed it on top of both of you so you could get to the castle without getting covered in snow, on the morning you went down to Hogsmeade the storm wasn't this bad.

You grabbed the edge of the coat next to you to cover yourself better and discovered the initial of your name embroidered with red thread that you had made a couple of weeks after you started dating Sirius. A small smile escaped your lips.

This little thing of embroidering your initial on his stuff came about as a silly joke that people would realise he belonged to you, obviously you didn't mean it, but he didn't have a problem with it, so he embroidered a couple himself.

"What's up?" Sirius asked when he saw your smile.

With a small smile you showed him the edge of his coat.

He rolled his eyes with a smile. "Leave it."

"Why didn't you take it off?" you asked curiously.

Sirius frowned "Why should I?"

"I don't know, because we broke up?"

"So?" He turned to look at you. "Just because it's over doesn't mean it wasn't real, you're the realest thing I've ever had."

You stopped walking and looked at him "Sirius, you don't mean that."

"Of course I do" He stopped as well, he picked up his scarf and showed you the corner, where your initial was also and his ring, which on the inside he wore it as well.

" I take you wherever I go." He said to you with a nostalgic smile.

"Do you miss us? Because I feel your absence wherever I go." You asked him directly, feeling your soul leave your body.

Sirius dipped his hand into your neck and you felt your neck crawl.

You smiled "Just to confirm? Will you tell me?"

Sirius moved to your lips and kissed them tenderly "More than you can imagine." He murmured against your lips and kissed them again.

"This is great" You smiled and moved the strands of hair that were in the way of his forehead. "I've wanted to do that since I saw you."

Sirius laughed against your lips. "I have to cut it" Referring to his hair.

You let out a gasp. "Are you mad? You cut your hair and we're done again I swear."

"We're done again?" Sirius repeats. "Does that mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend again?" Sirius asks with a grin.

"Absolutely. Any problem with that?" you smiled back.

"Never" Sirius grabbed the back of your neck and kissed even harder, careful to never let go again.

Though if he did, he'd always take you with him anyway.

[justmeinadaze]

Yin & Yang (Steddie X You)

A/N: This post got me feeling some kind of way🫠 .

Warnings: Older Daddy Eddie (Late 30s)/ Older Dom Mr. Harrington (Late 30s) & Younger Fem Sub Y/N (mid 20s)

SMUT, LOTS of dirty talk, male masturbation, fingering, talks of sharing (duh), slight innocence kink (if you squint; she's new to the dynamic), ANGST, reader deals with a rude customer and Eddie saves the day. A fight between Eddie and Y/N are mentioned.

Word Count: 4838

Donate to my Ko-Fi <3

Everyone always said Edward Munson was a rude, pretentious asshole. News outlets, websites, social media; everyone who met him briefly or not at all expressed a particular distain for him that you always found amusing when the topic came up. 

Visually, he did seem a bit aloof whenever the businessman did any kind of interview or was asked any kind of question. It was always a bit odd seeing a music producer get so much attention especially one who focused on the heavy metal scene but everyone who hated him also tended to agree that he was a genius at the craft. 

The bands he signed and prompted always hit high numbers on their respective charts making him and them a ton of extra money in the process. 

Anything you read or heard you skimmed past mostly because that wasn’t exactly your scene nor did you know anything when it came to what goes on the background of the music industry. Working at a coffee shop wasn’t extravagant or lucrative but it got you through till you could figure what actually was your scene and go from there. 

That’s how you met him. 

On a particularly rough shift, a man was screaming at you about an order that you supposedly got wrong as you tried to control the tears from spilling down your face. 

“How stupid are you?! It’s coffee not a fucking math equation. You just put the right liquid in the right cup and fucking hand it to me! It’s not that hard! Fucking moron.”

“Excuse me.” The man turned just as the handsome gentleman who addressed him hung up his phone and shoved it into his coat pocket. “I understand you’re a bit stressed but I’m going to have to ask you to stop harassing the young lady. It’s not her fault and she’s doing her best.”

“Pfft. Fuck off, douchebag. This doesn’t concern you.”

“It actually does because you couldn’t handle this situation in a quiet calm manner. You’re ruining everyone’s morning including mine. Now…either take the coffee she’s giving you or wait for her to make a new one patiently.”

The man’s fist flew but the gentleman moved out of the way, grabbing his wrist, and twisting it as he forced the man to kneel before him. 

“Ok. If this is the way you want to do this, that’s fine. Sweetheart…” When he addressed you, you immediately stood at attention ready to die for this man if he asked after what he had just done. “Can you hand me that cup there? Thank you.”, he praises, flashing you a small smile that makes you giddy. “Now, apologize to the young lady.”

“Ow, I’m sorry!”, the man cringes when his wrist is twisted a bit more. 

“Good. Take this coffee and get the fuck out of my sight. If I see you here again I won’t be so nice.”

Disregarding the Styrofoam in the gentleman’s hand, the rude customer quickly gets to his feet before running out of the store. Sighing, your hero places the coffee in front of you.

“Thank you…for defending me… He was being such an asshole.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s not your fault he didn’t order the correct thing. I can be an asshole myself but I know when and where to use it.” When you giggled, his beautiful eyes scan you over as if trying to get a read on you with the little information in front of him. 

“Are you, um, are you Edward?”, you ask as you slide him the coffee with the name scrawled across. 

Again, he glances you over and later on you would learn he was looking for recognition. Everyone he interacted with knew his name and who he was. You were the first person in years who seemed to regard him as just another stranger which fascinated him.

“I am but you can call me Eddie. That’s what my friends call me.”

“Oh. Um, we’re friends?”

“For now, but I’d like to be more whenever you’re open to it.”

Another smile stretched across his face when he noticed your own turn bright red as you blushed. 

“You don’t even know my name.”

Coyly, he leans his elbows on to your counter as his eyes stare at your chest. At first you feel self-conscious before you realize he’s looking at your name tag and you let out a tiny laugh to break the tension.

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“Do I make you nervous?” 

“A little.”

“Honest. I like that. How about this. I can pick you up after your shift today and we can start with dinner and go from there.”

“I don’t have any clothes to change into.”

“That’s ok. I think you look perfect as is and I promise when I come get you I won’t be dressed as formal.”

“O-Ok, Eddie.”

“Good. Good girl. I’ll see you tonight.”

That evening, he showed up right as the shop was about to close and when you told him it would be a few more minutes, he nodded as he patiently waited by the front door. You occasionally snuck glances at him as he browsed his phone. True to his word, he wore jeans and sneakers with a nice white button up shirt that he had rolled up to his elbows. With how he looked this morning, you imagined for him this was dressed pretty down. While his hair was slicked back when you last saw him, now his waves seemed to have a mind of their own making him seem less intimidating and quite adorable. 

Eddie asked you so many different questions about yourself, silently listening as you both ate at the restaurant he took you to. You learned fairly quickly, while he seemed like a man of few words, his body language spoke loudly. His chocolate eyes never left yours as he hung on each and every word you spoke. When you said something he found even remotely funny, his lips would flicker into a slight smirk before returning to their proper alignment. When your drink ran low, his finger would raise and a waiter would promptly run your way with a refill and as the night progressed you found his leg leaning against yours with a little sigh escaping his chest when you didn’t shy away. 

“I feel kind of selfish. I’ve been talking about myself a lot but I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“Honestly, sweetheart, it’s a nice reprieve. Everyone I run into knows me and my perceived reputation so to finally meet someone who doesn’t know me is a breath of fresh air.”

“Reputation…”, you repeated the word apprehensively. 

“Um, I’m kind of known as being a jerk.”

“You don’t seem like that to me.”

Eddie smiled so wide this time that his teeth came into view and you knew at that moment you’d do whatever it took to see him smile like that as much as possible. 

“Thank you for that. I can be when I need to be. In my line of work people tend to take advantage pretty early on and I wanted this industry to know I’m not someone to fuck with.”

“Do you make movies or?”

“Music. I’m a music producer for some heavy metal bands.”

“Oh wow! That’s so amazing. I would love to know more! Did you use to play?”

When he finally began to open up, hours passed like minutes and you were so entranced that you didn’t even realize the restaurant was getting ready to close. 

Eddie told you at one point he was in a band but hated the way they were cast aside for being “to generic” and “stuck in the past” so he took matters into his own hands. He bought a building and turned it into a label where he could help produce his friend’s music. He learned everything he could about production and managing, getting everything together, and essentially put Corroded Coffin on the map. 

He found that he actually loved working behind the scenes and stuck with it from that point forward. Now he’s a well-respected name in his field earning triple what he would have made as a guitarist. 

“What’s the name of the label you first opened?”

“Franklin Production; my mother’s maiden name. It seemed right because her money bought the building and she always loved music. She died when I was young.”

When his head hung, your heart broke. 

“Oh my God, Eddie. I’m so sorry.”

His mood changed in the blink of an eye as he breathily chuckled and glanced at his watch. 

“Shit, Y/N, it’s almost 1am. You have to be exhausted after your long shift today. Let me pay for our meal here and then I can take you home.”

“We’ve ordered so much food and drinks. Please let me help pay.” He paused at your comment then as his eyes met your now confused ones. “What?”

“I’ve only met one person who ever offered something like you just did and that man is my best friend.”

“I mean…it’s rude…isn’t it? It’s not fair for me to expect you to pay for everything.”

“Fuck me, baby.” Your eyelids visibly flutter at the term of endearment; coming out of his mouth with a sultry husk that made you swoon. “You’re really something special. I appreciate the offer but when you’re with me, honey, I can take care of you. It’s my pleasure quite honestly.”

You watched him pay the waiter and leave him way more than 15% before Eddie grabs your hand, leading you back to his car. 

That night he dropped you off at your apartment continuing to be the perfect gentleman as he walked you to your door and kept his hands behind his back as you slowly turned your key. Before you entered, however, you paused and hastily turned to plant a small kiss on his lips. Without waiting for a retort, you want inside and shut your door with a little giggle, watching through the peephole to see what he’d do. 

Eddie’s fingers softly brushed against his mouth as he grinned the way you enjoyed at the restaurant. 

***

You had been together now for a few months and you loved him with every fiber of your being. Eddie was extremely protective over you insisting you quit your job and move in with him. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t want you being somewhere where some fucker can belittle you and make you feel like trash. I can take care of you till you find a new job that makes you happy and people treat you with the respect you deserve.”

“Eddie, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking; I’m offering.”, he cooed as his hands cupped your cheeks. “You know how much Daddy loves looking after his pretty girl.”

The first time he called himself Daddy, you blushed and hid behind your hands making him smile as he chuckled low in his throat. 

“Have you ever called a man Daddy before?” When you giggle and curl tighter into your body, he climbed into the bed beside you and pulled you to his side. “It’s ok, sweetheart. Nothing to be embarrassed about with me. Can I show you something?”

Eddie grins when you drop your palms and show him your beautiful face. 

“Good girl.”, he praises as he takes ahold of your hand and kisses the back of it. With his eyes locked on yours, he gradually places it on the bulge in his slacks. “You feel that? Do you feel how hard I am just from being around you as is? You don’t have to do or say anything you don’t want to, princess. I’ll still be here and I’ll still want to fuck you till you can barely move.”

A smile twitched on his lips when your breathing stuttered. 

“I-I-I’ve never called anyone Daddy before or done anything that’s not…”

“Vanilla?”, he helped when your sentence stalled. “Vanilla’s ok to. Definitely a delicious flavor that can’t be disregarded. Can I tell you a secret?”

“Of course.”

Eddie leans in till his mouth is just hovering over the shell of your ear. 

“The fact that you’re so nervous and innocent to all this really fucking turns me on.”

When his cock strains a bit more against the fabric and pushes back against your hand, you can’t help but release a little whine as you push your thighs together. 

“What’s wrong, baby? Got a bit of an ache between your legs?”

“Yes.”, you breath out heavily as his palm ghosts up your thigh and his lips tenderly peck along your neck. 

“I can help with that if you want.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, please.”

Now, you were more than comfortable especially since he was always so patient with you when it came to almost everything. Unlike your past relationships, you were genuinely surprised at how little the two of you fought if at all. Eddie was a force in his business but when you two were together he was always as accommodating as possible. The one time you ever saw his anger directed towards you was when you forgot your phone when you went on a girl’s night out with your friends. 

When you came home at 2 in the morning, he was waiting in the living room and pacing with a glass of whiskey in his hand. 

“It’s 2 in the morning, Y/N! I’ve been worried sick! You forgot your phone. What if something happened to you and you couldn’t reach me!?”

“Eddie, it’s ok! I just forgot it. I promise I’ll do better next time—”

“That’s not the point! What if there hadn’t been a next time!? I’m responsible for you!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!! I’m sorry!!”

“You watch that fucking tone with me, little girl!”

“Oh yeah. Or what?!”

When the glass in his hand shattered into the wall behind you everything became abruptly silent. Tears stung your eyes as you grabbed the little trashcan nearby and scooted towards the mess, sinking to your knees as you collect the pieces. 

“Y/N, baby. No. No, no. Let me clean this, please.”, Eddie begged, his tone much softer than before as he kneeled beside you. 

When he tried to take the sharp items from your grasp, you angrily pulled away from him. 

“I didn’t mean to forget my phone. It was an honest mistake and you had no right screaming at me like you just did!”

“I know. You’re right, sweetheart. You are absolutely right. I just… fuck… I’m so sorry, Y/N. I love you so much and the idea of something happening to you or you getting hurt just terrifies me. I shouldn’t have reacted this way.”

Blinking up at him, your hand reaches for his own. 

“You love me?”

“Yeah, Y/N, of course. Since I met you behind that coffee counter.”

After tackling him excitedly, you beamed as you kissed his lips. 

“I love you to.”

People on the outside didn’t seem to understand why you were with him but they didn’t know him the way you did. Eddie was sweet, funny, and incredibly kind despite his hardened outer exterior. According to the man himself, the only other person who understood him the same way you did was a man you had yet to meet. 

#############

Steven Harrington was a name you knew solely due to his reputation in media. 

He was always portrayed as just another trust fund baby who was utilizing daddy’s money to do whatever he wanted. He got in trouble constantly but brushed it off with a sexy smile and a calm demeanor that made even the biggest skeptic want to trust him.

The first time Eddie mentioned him by name was after you noticed him watching one of Steve’s interviews. 

“Fucking idiot.”, he chuckled light-heartedly, turning the screen of his phone so you could watch to when you climbed into bed beside him. “This is the guy I was telling you about. Steve Harrington has been my best friend for years.”

“This is your best friend?”

When he nods, you focus on the interview in front of you.

“No, no. Trust me, that company would be crazy to sell right now in this economy. Once things bounce back it will be worth way more than it is now. Then again…if they sell I could buy it and turn it into a hotel or some s***. Go ahead than! Sell that f***er!”, he laughs making you giggle as well when his nose scrunches adorably. 

“Steve is actually a very clever business guy. People constantly underestimate him because he acts like a playboy.”

“So…he’s the yin to your yang?”

Eddie smirks down at you before kissing your forehead. 

“You could say that.”

The more your boyfriend told you about him the more you wanted to meet him. Eddie seemed to genuinely care about this person and as his girlfriend you wanted him to get to know him as well. The first time you spoke to him was after you moved in with Ed and he called to congratulate you both. 

“Hey! Are you Y/N?”

“I am.”, you grin. 

“Oh good. I don’t know what I would have done if you said no. ‘EDDIE! Some random pretty girl is in your place!’”, Steve laughed. 

“Pft. How do you know I’m pretty?”

“Because a sexy voice like yours must be inside a beautiful woman. I’m kind of jealous.”

He said it so smoothly that if you weren’t already sitting you’re sure his words would have knocked you off your feet. Your eyes glanced towards Eddie who was watching you from his spot on the couch. 

“Uh oh. Did I lose you, honey? Sorry. Sometimes I come on a bit too strong.”

“No, no. It’s ok. You just… you remind me of him.”, you exhale as you get up and walk towards your boyfriend. 

“Of who? Of Eddie? I take that as a compliment. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah he is but that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Oh? Well then use your words, pretty girl. Who do I remind you of? I’m DYING to know.”

Eddie softly smirks as he watches your breathing stagger the same way it does when you’re intimidated by something. His ring covered fingers gently trace down your arm making you shiver. 

“Tell me.”

The two words that followed came out as a strong command that told you to obey. The contradiction of how he spoke now to how he had before made you dizzy and you desperately wanted more. 

“Daddy.”

After tossing the phone next to Eddie, you covered your face with your palms and ran up the stairs. A few moments later, the man you loved climbed into bed beside you and collected you into his arms. 

“Talk to me, baby. Remember, no matter what there’s nothing to be embaressed about, ok?” He smiled when he felt you nod against his chest. “I know Steve can be a bit much at first but he’s a good person who’s been through a lot of bullshit.”

As you sniffle, you tilt back so you could see his face. 

“I feel bad.”

“About what, sweetheart?”

“I liked the way he spoke to me. It turned me on the same way you do.”

“Ok…why does that make you feel bad?”

You shrug. “I love you.”

That makes him genuinely smile. 

“I love you to, Y/N, so much. That’s why I trust you, babe. I, um, I have a confession to make.” When you sit up to give him your full attention, he does the same. “I’ve known Steve for a long time and I trust that man with my life. I’ve told him things I’ve never told anyone and he’s done the same. You said, sweetheart, he’s the yin to my yang and you’re right. Fuck… how do I say this…”

“You want to share me?”

The innocent way you asked your question drove him insane but he pushed down the need to fuck you for the time being. 

“Kind of, yes. I…I wanted to see how you two got along and if it worked out, maybe, we could fly to go meet him and… you’d still be mine but he’d—”

“Use me.”

“Fuck, baby, you have to stop saying things like that the way you are.”, Eddie panted excitedly as he adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. 

“May I ask why? Why you would want to share me like that?”

“Of course, Y/N, you can always ask me anything. You hold the power here especially when it comes to this. I just… he’s my best friend and I want him to be happy to. In these past few months, you’ve changed my world and I just want to give him some of that. I, um, I also think…”

“Tell me, Daddy. Please.”, you beg in your tiny voice that has his eyes closing as he tries to control himself. 

“Fuck… I think it would be incredibly hot to watch you fuck him.”

You had told him you were open but apprehensive because it was all new territory for you. Both men came up with an idea to help you get acclimated to the idea. 

“Hey all. Wow, Jesus Christ Munson, you undersold your girlfriend’s beauty. Hot damn.”

You giggled as Eddie rolled his eyes at his friend who was laughing himself from his side of the computer screen. It looked like Steve had the device he was using for this facetime visit resting on his lower stomach as he leaned against the headboard of his bed looking incredibly sexy with his ruffled hair and tank top just barely covering the chest hair that littered his skin. 

Eddie had you sitting in between his own legs as he rested his head against your shoulder and his arms hugged you to him. 

“I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. If I do at any point please just let me know and I’ll respect your boundaries.”

“You don’t make me uncomfortable but, uh, you kind of intimidate me a bit…more than Eddie did.”

“Is it because I start at 10 and go from there? Yeah, casualties of growing up in chaotic household and then starting a business where your biggest competitor is your father.”

“What DO you do? Ed said you’re an investor?”

“Kind of.  I invested in a friend’s tech company many years ago and that paid off in a big way. They make medical supplies that are high quality for a cheaper price. I’m trying to expand so we can invest in more—Pfft! Listen to me talking about all that bullshit. Let’s talk about something else.”

“No, hey! That’s amazing that you do that. My father needed supplies like that but it was so hard for him to afford stuff. You’ve probably helped so many people. What supplies has your company helped make?”

Steve blinked, sitting up straighter.

“Huh.”

“I told you.”, Eddie sings as he places a delicate kiss along your skin. 

“D-Did I do something wrong? Am I not allowed to ask him questions?”, you asked genuinely worried you crossed a line. 

“Most people, let alone women, don’t care enough to ask us things like you just did.”

“Maybe you two are spending time around the wrong people.”

“Maybe… Damn, Eddie. She’s perfect. Where did you find her because obviously I’ve been looking in the wrong places.”

“Hm. I found her in a coffee shop being yelled at by some asshole. Fucker.”, he growled before you tilted back and kissed his cheek. “It’s not just her personality either. Her body fucking drives me crazy. Even just watching her walk from the bed to the bathroom makes me so fucking hard.”

“Yeah? Your Daddy says you have sexy body. Can you show it to me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable, princess.”, Eddie whispers in your ear.

“Can you help me, Daddy?”

Nodding, he removes each item of your clothing till you were naked for the man on the screen in front of you. 

“Fuck me. I’m not just saying this, Y/N, but you’re so gorgeous.”

“Thank you.”, you groan as you lick your lips. “May I see you?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”, he smirks. 

Your whole body tingled as you watched him undress until you sucked in a sharp intake of air when his cock sprang free from his cotton confinement. 

“He’s so big.”, you murmur against Eddie’s cheek as his eyes remain downcast to focus on you. “How will it fit?”

“We’ll make fit, pretty girl. Steve and I can take care of you.”

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah. Little one is worried about your splitting her in half. “

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m a gentleman to. I’m not going to just shove my dick inside of you. Even if it takes hours, we can eat and finger your little pussy till she’s ready.”

“Fuck, Daddy, please.”

Aggressively, Eddie opens your legs wide putting you on display and making Steve groan. 

“Wet already and no one’s even touched you yet.”, he responded mockingly before leaning over his cock to spit on his tip and stroke himself. “How tight is she, Munson?”

You moaned loudly as Eddie inserted two of his thick fingers into your cunt and your head leaned back against him.

“So fucking tight, Harrington, and greedy. Her pussy just sucks me in and chokes my dick when she cums. Add in her sexy little noises and the way her face scrunches…” 

“Open your eyes, Y/N.” Steve smiles when you do what he asks. “Good girl. She listens to. Fuck, baby, don’t take those eyes off me. God, I’m—mmm—I’m dying to feel those pretty lips around my cock.”

“You’re really good at sucking cock, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. I’m…M’close.”

“I know, pretty girl. I can feel it. Why don’t you tell Stevie how bad you want his cum.”

You mewl as Eddie moves at a faster pace with the sound of your slick echoing around the room. 

“Please, Mr. Harrington, Sir. I-I-I want your cum so much. I want to feel you—ahhhh—feel your cock in my mouth till you spill down my throat.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he grunted and you both watched as his release hit his thigh. 

“You did so good, sweetheart. Cum for Daddy now, baby.”, Eddie praised as your back pushed against his chest and you panted as you came. “That’s my girl. Good girl. Ride it out on my fingers till you come back to me. That’s it.”

“Fucking hell. That was amazing, honey.” Steve watch with fascination as you turned your body and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s chest as you curled into his warm chest. “Everything ok?”

“She’s fine. It’s something baby girl does when she cums hard like that. She’ll squeeze me like a fucking Teddy bear and fall asleep. Sometimes it’s for a few minutes or a few hours. At first I thought it was the headspace but I don’t know. Either way I love it.”

“Yeah, man. If she had a good time and is open to it I have that party coming up in a month. You two can fly down and we can hang out. Of course, nothing has to happen. I can always just show you guys around and get to know her more.”

“I’ll let you know when she wakes up and we talk about it.”

“No problem. No problem. Hey, maybe at most, you and I can fuck around.”, Steve replies as he coyly raises his eyebrows making his friend laugh.

“Ok, calm down over there.”

“Oh, come on. Not like it would be the first time—”

“Good night, asshole.”, Eddie teases as he cuts him off and closes the laptop.

#################

“Are you alright, sweetheart?”, Eddie asks as he watches you fidget with your hands as you stare at your reflection in the metal of the elevator. 

“Yeah. I’m just a little nervous. This is your best friend and I know how much he means to you. I don’t want to…I don’t know…fuck anything up.”

“Fuck, I still think it’s hot when you get all jittery like this.”, he chuckles as he takes your palm in his. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about. I love you so I know for a fact he will. Just keep being your unique self, baby, and no matter what I’ll be here if you need anything.”

When he flashes you that big toothy grin, you can’t help but smile back as you lean up on your toes to kiss his lips. The doors abruptly swing open and your boyfriend’s demeanor instantly hardens at the sound of loud party guests in the room you both step into. 

Your eyes swing around the area with no sign of the host himself. 

Tugging on Eddie’s bicep, you lead him to the drink station where you desperately chug down some liquid courage as you pray that tonight goes as smoothly as possible.