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whumpsical · 2 years ago

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Jay

contents: flashback to a minor whumpee, homelessness, discussed homophobia, bio family blues

Some sweet comfort from one the rockiest eras of Jian's past <3 the gays stick together <33

sometime in 2014

taglist!!! @yet-another-heathen @much-ado-about-whumping @minerscanary

🌲🌲🌲🌲

“Come here, Jay.”

Jian bristled.

He was only sixteen at the time. He didn’t like nicknames. He’d never liked nicknames. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; no one had beaten or bullied him out of a taste for them, and he had no past relationships to any particular nicknames to turn him off to the concept. He just didn’t like them.

But at Casanova, one of the many gay bars in Jian’s early rotations, the owner liked to call him Jay. And Jian found that it didn’t grate on his nerves the way it usually would, not coming from Cal.

Cal first caught Jian sneaking into Casanova on a chilly, rainy night. It wasn’t the first time Jian had gotten in. He’d just had a harder time blending with the partygoers that night: waterlogged and shivering, too exhausted to even talk, sitting by himself on a leather couch near the bathrooms. His clothes were damp, leeching all the warmth from his small body, but even shedding his wet jacket didn’t feel like an option. He was convinced that the moment he slipped his scrawny, narrow shoulders free, his age would be made even more pathetically obvious than it already was. It was better to keep still and try to pretend that he wasn’t there at all.

Cal was on the floor that night, covering for a sick bartender. He’d wondered how he’d missed the obviously underaged kid’s entrance into his bar. It was a Tuesday night. Not very busy at all. Maybe it was the rain. The patio sat empty, everyone instead gathering inside and cluttering up Cal’s view of the front door.

Jian flinched when Cal approached him. He was a tall, hefty man, comfortably in his fifties. Though with age his ratio of muscle to fat had shifted, he still had an intensely intimidating power in his stature, especially from where Jian was sitting.

“Hey,” Cal said, with just a hint of the stern edge to his voice which he only fully put on for the handsy creeps and mean drunks.

Jian looked up at the man, numb in the face. He had nothing to say, and was too shocked with cold and fear to even try to squeak out a word.

Cal stood tall, unyielding. “You wanna show me some ID?”

Jian looked at his shoes, a lump growing in his throat. His head was too misty to comprehend much, but he understood enough to recognize he’d been caught, which meant that he had to find somewhere else to hide from the rain. He already couldn’t remember how many times this had happened that night. All he knew was that he didn’t want to go back to the shelter, but he was quickly running out of options. With stiff, freezing hands and a weak, trembling effort, he pushed himself off the sticky seat and started on his staggering trek to the exit.

Cal’s large hands stopped him, butting against his shoulders. Not grabbing. Jian couldn’t even muster any awareness of the act, just pushing his empty body against Cal’s hands like they were an invisible wall in a video game. Cal pushed back a little more firmly, and Jian’s feet tripped to a halt. He stood in place, blinking through confused sparks in his eyes, feeling lightheaded.

“Hold on, hold on. Hey,” Cal said, stooping down to meet Jian’s eyes, and, as twenty-something year old Jian suddenly realized with fondness, to shield him from the activity of the bar around them. “Do you need… Would you like something hot to drink? A warm meal, maybe? Someplace dry?”

Jian had no clue what his face was doing. He remembered his body as a hollow wooden vessel. Still, something must have come across in his silence, because Cal softened even more.

“Look, I don’t know your situation,” he said, squeezing Jian’s shoulder. “But I can tell enough that you need help. I have the means. Come on, honey.”

Cal started to usher Jian towards the bar, and a volatile switch flipped in Jian’s gut, instantly rubbing every inch of his skin raw and sucking the air from his lungs.

“No,” Jian managed in a desperate whisper, shrugging his way out of Cal’s hands and stumbling backwards a few feet before blinking the blind terror from his eyes and halfway remembering where he was. Cal’s hands hovered in a deliberately non-threatening airspace, allowing Jian to retreat as far as he needed.

“Okay,” Cal said quickly, in a peaceful, hushed tone. Jian’s focus still whipped around the bar, but Cal let that manic vigilance die down in its own time, keeping his own body still and distant. “Okay. You don’t have to. But I really don’t want to send you back out there, to who knows what, without at least getting you dried off. You can stay here, honey. You don’t have to go.”

The vividness of Jian’s memory drained to an uninviting mist. He knew that at some point he’d started to cry, and that Cal had led him with an open hand -- so broad it nearly spanned Jian’s entire waistline, at least in those days -- to a more secluded area behind the bar, where both Cal and the small kitchen crew could keep an eye on him while he ravenously devoured a warm plate of various bar staples and a few Casanova specialties. Jian remembered being offered an offensively sugary Shirley Temple in that same spot, but that may have been on another night.

Sometime later, a shift change freed Cal up to drag a second black painted chair over to Jian’s, where he’d been working on drying himself off with an only slightly ratty towel, having adamantly refused a change of clothes from Cal’s apartment above the bar.

“Hey there, kiddo. You feeling any better?”

Jian nodded sheepishly, embarrassed at all the drama he’d become the center of tonight, now that the terror had mostly passed. The heat from the crowd and the food had long since stilled his shivering, and an almost contented sleepiness was taking over instead, a feeling so unfamiliar that he was struggling to guard against it, finding himself nodding off every now and then. He’d been focusing his energy on staying upright in the chair, and was glad for Cal’s interruption.

“I’d like to have a little chat with you, if that’s okay,” Cal said, leaning forward in his seat to match Jian’s height. Jian visibly tensed, swallowing nervously and breaking eye contact. Cal’s voice only softened more. “Sweetheart, you’re not in any trouble with me. What’s your name, honey?”

When Jian only gulped again with considerably more effort, his eyebrows starting to knit with growing anxiety, Cal nodded thoughtfully.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to tell me.”

A rush of cool air flowed through Jian’s chest, relief unclenching his jaw before he’d even realized how tight he’d been squeezing it shut.

“I would like to know how old you are, though,” Cal continued lightly. “But don’t tell me that either. I want to guess. Flex my skills. Is that something the kids are saying today?”

One corner of Jian’s mouth lifted a bit.

“See, I’m out of the loop. This’ll be fun,” Cal said. “Hmm,” he hummed, one hand rubbing his chin as he made a show of scrutinizing Jian’s scrappy appearance. “I’ve got nieces in the eighth grade, but they’re all shorter than you. They definitely eat better, though.” Jian couldn’t help but chuckle silently under the heat of the spotlight, feeling himself becoming invested in the game, despite everything. “Fourteen, maybe? No, fifteen.” When Jian shook his head to both, Cal leaned back, worry overtaking his expression. “Oh, sweetheart, please don’t tell me I started too high. I don’t think I could handle it.”

Jian shook his head again, an easy smile finding its way onto his face. “Sixteen,” he said, his delicate voice all but confirming his answer.

Cal nodded, solemnity gently wafting away the air of humor that had eased them to this point. He leaned forward again, hands clasped in front of him, and looked into Jian’s eyes as he spoke. “It was a long time ago, but it was tough for me when I was that age, too. I can’t speak for your experience, honey, but I know what it’s like to feel alone in the world.”

His defenses down, Jian felt the words hit him square in his chest. Fear and apprehension prickled at the edges of the impact, but the crater was deep enough that genuine empathy was what struck Jian the most. He felt breathless and fragile as he listened, but he didn’t look away.

“I’ve seen some very good friends go down dark paths because of that feeling. And it’s hard to find your way back out. It’s hard out there, baby, I know. But no matter how lost you feel, you will never be unworthy of love, and safety, and peace. Do you understand me?”

Jian wasn’t sure that he did, but Cal spoke with such an urgency that Jian felt he should at least nod, though unease was building in his stomach again. Cal watched him with earnest conviction as he waited for Jian to answer, but Jian shied away from the intensity of it, breaking off eye contact and betraying the gnawing guilt he suddenly felt. Cal sighed, too softly to hear beneath the noise of the bar.

“I know that look, sweetheart. Your family?”

Jian hadn’t realized how obvious it could be. His stomach dropped and a flash of heat pushed tears behind his eyes as fresh wounds burst through their haphazard stitches. He could feel the metaphorical slam of the door all over again, the pain of his father’s violent and consummate rejection only compounded by the past year he’d spent trying to stitch himself back together without him. Failing miserably. He bit his cheek to keep the rest from spilling, and locked eyes with Cal to silently implore him to continue.

Cal didn’t falter. He wrapped Jian’s restlessly clenching fists between his warm hands and leaned in.

“There’s not a lot I can do to change the truly fucking awful things that happen in this world,” Cal said. “But what I can do is help lift some of the burdens that fall on us. You are welcome here, honey.” He accented this with a squeeze of Jian’s hands, then paused, blinked a few times, and made an undecided gesture with a tilt of his head. “Not in the bar, mind you.”

At the gentle chiding, Jian found himself laughing with him, vaguely relieved to be acknowledged as something other than a novelty or a criminal. Cal looked at him without hunger. Being the object of someone’s worry instead of their hatred or desire had faded to a memory from another world, and Jian didn’t know what to do with or even how to identify the bubbly feeling which sat high in his chest. The release of pressure set free a cold crop of tears that he had been clinging to. With grace, Cal let them fall without address.

“But any time it’s getting too heavy,” Cal continued, holding Jian’s hands tight, “if you’re ever hungry, tired, need someone to talk to, anything, you come to Casanova and you ask for Cal, okay? I mean it. We make our own families here.”

Jian nodded, with emphatic gratitude this time. His head felt too fuzzy and exhausted to really comprehend the mess of emotions that writhed and tangled inside him, like a rat’s nest of colorful yarn choking his heart, but the mess itself was colorful and soft, and that had to be enough for now. He took a steadying breath.

“My name’s Jian,” he said, feeling shy under the usually anonymizing glow of the blacklights. But Cal beamed.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jian,” he said. “Now, the big questions: Do you have a place to stay tonight? Is there someone I can help you call, to let them know where you are?”

“No,” Jian said simply, and the scalding, mortified blush that would’ve normally flooded Jian’s entire face and neck just wasn’t there. Instead, Cal’s hands landed on his shoulders, blanketing him in steadiness and warmth without suffocating.

“Now you do, Jay. Now you do.’

From somewhere in the comfortable fog of Jian’s distant memory, Dickass Lee’s voice wormed back into his ears.

“Come here, Jay.”

Jian bristled.

“Ugh, yeah, no. No. I get it,” Dickass Lee said with a comically exaggerated shudder, mimicking the tension in his captive’s shoulders. “I’ll stick to ‘Jian.’”

#clover #clover write #whump #whump writing #oc whump #environmental whump #hypothermia #found family #hurt/comfort #mostly comfort #emotional whump #jian #cal #Dickass Lee #sin squad #hello everyone<3 I've had this cooking for a long time but i just got around to finishing it<33 #poor baby boy #this was before he met King #but anyway #in irl news. bc what else is a personal writing blog for #I've lost the ability to breathe😩😩 currently surviving on steroids and inhaler juice #i gave Jian asthma and he clapped right back at me😔 no mercy #im gettin an intimate lesson in experiencing & recovering from an asthma attack and I'm sure Jian reached across the ether to give it to me #so hey #if anyone wants gritty details for their own writing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ask away #it's funny i literally came across & reblogged the post under this as i was in the urgent care patient room with 8ml of steroids in my ass

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wakanai · 1 year ago

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Red Flag Reblog Game (?) but also a rant lol.

in honour of 'cutting off' a friend I didn't like (not really cutting off but more like. being honest about how I feel and both of us mutually deciding to not be as close as before as a result),

let me make a list of my red flags.

Because this is the second time I've cut off a friend like this 😭

Okay here we go...

🚩 Gets drained easily. High need of alone time.

🚩 Seen zones and late replies. Does not like people who can't understand my seen zones and late replies even after I've explained to them this habit before hand.

🚩 Deletes messages. I delete messages and then send a new message when I feel like the OG message could have been better phrased. I delete messages randomly sometimes for other reasons too.

🚩 Does not like clingy people who need to talk to me or be with me 24/7. This friend I 'cut off' (ughh cut off isn't rlly the right word. maybe, 'demoted friendship'? IDK 😭. Yeah lets just call it DS).

This friend I DSed once followed me w the intentions of dropping me to my driver. I told her, "I feel like being alone right now."

She said "No." and continued following me so I ended up talking to her. It was a good convo but I didn't like that she didn't take me seriously.

Next day, she tried to follow me again but I said "No I'm serious" sternly and started walking fast away from her

🚩 Acts light hearted during confrontations. When I confront someone abt something they did that bothers me, I say it in a light tone as to not 'hurt' them too much. This leads to them sometimes not taking me seriously.

🚩 Good at pretending that everything's fine. In 2 of my friendships, I have ignored their grieviances against me until the point it piled up, I had harbored too much hidden dislike against them and the next time I confronted them abt it, it was when I was already cutting them off.

Both friendships were shocked and did not expect that I had harbored things against them

🚩 Sensitive. (not really a red flag but you know, the thing w my friend I just DSed - - she said she just had satirical humour. She told me (not actual words) , 'I told you many times not to take my words at face value. If you haven't learned that, then clearly you aren't learning.'

In truth, I did not find her 'humour' funny and I found the things she said to me while we were still friends extremely discouraging 😭

🚩 Does not say everything that's on my mind at times.

🚩 Not pushy. In some situations - you NEED to be pushy. I am bad at being pushy but every day is progress ig

🚩 Might be socially awkward <<sometimes>>

🚩 can be rough w friends sometimes. <<sometimes>> (never with ill intentions though!! I don't do it to hurt them, it's just my hands are kind of heavy ig 😭)

🚩 Not confident in self.

🚩 Does not talk much about myself.

🚩 procrastinator

🚩 Dense. Dense. Dense. Dense. Do not give me 'hints' about how you feel. I might not interpret them properly.

🚩 People get attached to me because I listen to them. In fact, I LIKE listening to them. If they're my friend, I comfort them and am there for them.

It's when they start hurting me that I start hating them.

As mentioned above, I have a tendency to tolerate A LOT before deciding I don't like them as my friend.

Since I tolerate a lot, and act normal,

They usually get caught off guard when I tell them my feelings.

By the time I explain that I dislike them and/or want to 'take a break' or 'cut them off' they get shocked and sad

because they've been sharing intimate things to me and now they're about to lose me.

A lot of times I'm the 'listener' friend or 'the therapist' friend.

If I had to put it in words, sometimes I'm a machine that absorbs the rants and troubles of other people and gives them comfort. I use the word 'machine' because to SOME people (some not all) - I feel like a tool that they use when they need to express their emotions. Just a tool. Nothing more. They don't treat me well.

When I dislike the person, that machine runs out of battery and suddenly dies. But while it's still alive, this machine may not give a sign that it's running out of battery.

So the person continues hurting it and using it. And it suddenly dies on the person.

So the person is left feeling sad, confused, angry, and maybe regretful..but they probably understand. because the machine gives them an explanation.

If they don't understand, not my problem 😭

Yeah I think that's all my red flags. IDK.

Another thing

I guess it would be interesting and fun to see other people reblog this with their own red flags. So if u want to, feel free. feel free to rant ur experiences as well ig.

#random #I prob have more red flags but if i realize them ig ill just edit this post #But regarding those two friendships #I actually don't regret them #I feel glad im free of them #I deserve better 🤭🤭#First friendship was definitely toxic. NO NO NOOO INTENTIONS of going back to that person #Second friendship was more sad #Cause she explained that i just didnt get her humor #and she was a green flag plenty of times #but ehhhhhh #as i think abt it i actually dont regret losing her either #as sad as it is i didnt feel comfortable around her and she discouraged me lots of times. We also didnt click a lot.#if she takes time to reflect on the things i told her she'll understand why i dont like her #friendship #reblog game kinda (only if ppl reblog this)#red flags in friendship #If uve noticed a red flag in me that wasn't mentioned - feel free to send me an ask ig #can't guarantee that ill answer it haha but yeah

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saprophetic · 2 years ago

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mutuals like this if you want the url to my Extra Personal blog

#mine #realized i have Too Many Followers to feel comfortable reblogging stuff and talking about personal things #not really Bad or necessarily Naughty just #stuff i dont particularly want hundreds of strangers to see #im just a fairly paranoid person KFBSODHSIS

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hxperion · 1 year ago

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//thinking about how Jack always has a negative effect on people that gets close to him in any capacity. At first would be his daughter who before the death of her mother seemed to have a good family bond with him, before he got overly protective, and started using her as a catalyst to charge the vault key and manipulate the vault hunters, which lead to her helping the vault hunters and got killed in the process. thinking about having financial control and life control over Timothy as Timothy was a person in debt with student loans, being his first doppelganger, and putting timothy into life dangerous situations either to prevent assassination attempts, or doing vault hunter missions for him. Not to mention the cut dialogue from the pre-sequel literally brands Timothy's face to match his vault hunter symbol. (Plus the 'and jill' skin you get at one point with the same scar as jack). But their whole subtle dynamic can be a whole meta post on its own. Thinking about in the tales from the borderlands, Hugo literally thought he meant something to Jack because Jack used him as a literal punching bag and often bullied him and singled him out . Plus his whole manipulation of Rhys and how Rhys story is literally him learning that Jack is truly a shitty person and that you shouldn't idolize your heroes nor should you be like them The only two characters that were close with Jack at one point and didn't physically or really emotionally get hurt by him was Moxxi, being able to see the man he really is even before he became that man fully, and Nisha who was equally as fucked up as him, if not more morally better in terms at least in borderlands two, treated those who are under her slightly better. but yet still had the same sadistic energy as him.(Albeit she was killed for being Jack's girlfriend as a way to piss him off, but their whole dynamic can be its own long meta post to) So overall, those who are interacting with Jack and got a close bond with him, either romantic, familiar, hateful, etc. will always be hurt in the end by him either physically, or mentally, his a character that always leaves a lasting impression on most characters especially those who are not strong-willed enough to call him out on his toxic bullshit, and stand their ground with him, but even then it depends because he is the type that will kill on a drop of a hat.

#[meta]#[headcanons]: classified information #do not reblog but likes are appreciated//#//god each of his dynamics can be its own seperate posts//#//he may be a funny ceo captilist murderer man but he is actually//#//a dangerous and toxic person to be involved with//#//which is why im very hesitant on allowing ships on this blog but only with//#//certain muns that I feel comfortable writing the dynamics with and we can expand on them//#because the last thing i want to do is like romanticization of some of his toxic 'ships' because its not something that should be//#//romanticized or kinkified //

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metamelonisle · 1 year ago

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imagine if i was more active and went into character tags and talked to people openly like a normal person and didn't just like. gingerly look at people and only reblog people through my friends and dashboardr

#every single person i follow is just someone my friends followed or reblogged from first btw!#i think its largely bc im afraid that if i step outside my comfort zone i will either heavily dislike it or miss critical warning signs #that someone/something is absolutely fucking vile and hurt someone by accident #but i should have better trust in my judgement i think #am i living or surviving? let's find out!

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fogwatersalt · 2 years ago

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ahh i remember i used to reblog wildly different stuff like last year or something. maybe even a few months ago.. beginning of this year. sometimes i worry what i post here because im like ahhh oh no what will my followers think!! what if they dont like what i post… this isnt what they came for.. i need to stop caring about that

#i hate social media a lot. because you begin feeling this pressure for an audience #for someone to like a post or for someone to reblog it to show that they like you or somethin #thats what you start to think #i mean. for me personally #this is why i reallly need to make a neocities site or something. i dont want likes i dont want reblogs i just want a Space #for my interests and thoughts and stuff where i dont feel that pressure of recognition from some kind of button #just somewhere to put things. i wont know if people like it or not but i think its better that way #and also thats just what friend servers are for.. for people you care about to like what you care about #directly #i dont know im just kind of rambling but i feel this every time i go on tumblr #social medias are built to put you on a Platform. to give you Followers to give you Influence #a stage to perform #maybe its just me? social media just isnt my thing #a site would still be something for people to look at but its more.. personal? customizable? anonymous??#shrug #i just want an online presence im comfortable with X| i dont know if i will ever find that perfect niche..

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thefourpointedstar · 6 months ago

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hell yeah.

Reblog to give a trans woman a delicious Cuban sandwich

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goblinbugthing · 2 months ago

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there’s this one person on here that i REALLY wanna be friends with but they have really bad anxiety and aren’t comfortable w/ people randomly reaching out and asking to be friends so im just gonna keep sending them asks every once in a while and leave nice tags on everything they post and HOPEFULLY they’ll follow me back at some point

#text #buggie’s rambles #not gonna mention their name for their privacy & comfort #perfectly ok to reblog tho #also the person im talking abt if you see this. hi #<- silliest gay little bimbo wave possible

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heyitslapis · 4 months ago

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its times like this when i really wish i had an SO's shoulder to cry on

Because I think i factrued/sprained my foot the other day it happened wednesday but its still pretty swollen and pops when i try to walk on it without hobbling. i know i signed up for health insurance through work. i wrote down the insurance company name as Bayside and I have my personal insurance id number but the card never came in/got lost in the mail (and i already called for one replacement that never came so idk if theyll send me a third) so i cant confirm the insurance name nor call them, but i need to because ive called/visited 5 health care facilities around me and NONE of them have even heard of Bayside. So im calling the phone number that my manager provided me with telling me that was the insurance company. I keep calling the number (and mind you ive called them before to try to get a second insurance card sent to me but that was in like April) and i get that its saturday but theres no answer and the stupid automated machine wont let me leave a voicemail. the automated answering voice on the phone also says that theyre called National Benefit Plans by SafetyNet and google says the phone number im using belongs to National Benefit Plans out in San Antonio Tx (i live no where near there). I found National Benefit Plans' website on SafetyNetPlus dot com but National Benefit Plans doesnt have their own website, just through SafetyNet, and also the SafetyNet website says on a side panel that "this is NOT insurance" and instead keeps saying "health benefits" instead so idk what the fuck ive been paying for for the last 6 months tbh and im having an emotional breakdown bc i dont want to fuck my foot up for life just cause i couldnt figure out my health insurance/benefits shit

#ive been fucking sobbing on the phone for 20 minutes calling the phone number over and over again #im about to mcfucking lose it and im sad and confused and scared because my foot is still so swollen even though it doesnt hurt very much #and google says if swelling on an injury like this persists after 48 hours to go get it looked at #all the walkin clinics near me dont have any xray techs til monday & quoted me anywhere from $130-$300 if i dont have insurance which i can #provide proof of nor am i even sure i actually have at this point and im ngl my guys i only have like $180 to my name until next friday #but then basically my entire next paycheck is going to Geico #and overall im just having a really really really bad time rn and im scared that if my foot is actually fractured im gonna fuck it up worse #by walking around on it without a boot/cast. yeah ive been sitting at work the last few days #but its front desk at a hotel so at least for the first hour of my shift and last 1.5 hours i HAVE to be standing #my foot was so swollen after work today it hurt to get my shoe off #im just really fucking stressed and anxious and confused and im sitting here sobbing my eyes out realizing theres literally no one i can #call just to vent and cry it out with #cant call my mom cause i busted my foot leaving her place after her husband got in my face & screamed at me for saying you cant hit people #cant call my siblings cause none of them can help/we dont talk often enough that i feel like i can burden them with this #i have a few casual friends but same sitch im not close enough with them that i feel comfortable venting while sobbing to them #i could call my ex but shes got a new boo now/its not her problem/we rarely talk anymore/she cant help so no point in calling #only other person who knows/is worried about me is my ex's mom but she wont be home from work for break til 2pm & its 11:30am rn #not close enough to any of my coworkers either #its times like this that i realize how truly alone i am these days with no one that can physically comfort me #which of course is only making me more upset #thats what i get for being depressed and reclusive the last 2 years and only letting people get an arms length reach from me emotionally #there is a medical clinic i can go to that is a 50 minute drive from me and without insurance you just pay a $20 sliding fee plus a little #extra for the care services but again theyre not open until monday and also its a 50 minute drive from me #so all im learning is i shouldve gone some place thursday morning after it happened and im fucked at least til monday #FUCK my STUPID BAKA life!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#whatever. guess imma keep icing it try to keep it elevated and just endure it and hope it doesnt get worse #emma rambles #vent tag #DONT REBLOG

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tbaluver · 2 months ago

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Hi ree 🤭

Can I request y/n flinching during an argument when the boys make a sudden movement. Give it a happy ending pls.

I'm craving some angst with fluff on the side.

Has to be served by u tho 😭🌹

Flinching During An Argument- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: slight angst with some fluff/ comfort ! a/n: HIHI TEE !! ily (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope this was okay and i hope i served and if not im soso sorry and this doesn't exist ദ്ദി ��ຶ‿༎ຶ ) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

It was your first argument with Xavier and you’d never seen this side of him. His usually warm, soft eyes narrow into a piercing glare, losing their usual kindness and sleepiness to it. You had always believed that you and Xavier would never argue, yet here you were, caught in a heated argument. Frustration had clouded both your minds, leaving both to forget what the initial problem even was. The emotional exhaustion was palpable and you both were weary from the conflict.

In an attempt to reconcile, Xavier reached out to pull you closer and offer an apology. His sudden gesture was unexpected and made you flinch. The movement was too abrupt, causing you a momentary surge of anxiety. You recoiled back slightly, your body tense.

His eyes widened in shock at your reaction. Instantly, he withdrew his arm, staring down at his hands as if they had betrayed him. Hurt and confusion on his face were palpable, as if he committed an offense. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, “I’m so sorry if I scared you. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

The frustration that had marked his earlier expression melted away and was replaced by the tender, sincere face you knew and loved. As your mind began to process the sudden shift and the context of his actions, you realized that his outstretched arm had been an attempt to offer comfort.

“I’m sorry you thought I’d hurt you,” Xavier says, his voice weighted with sincerity. “I promise I will never do that. I don’t know what I did to make you feel this way, but I’m committed to doing whatever it takes to be a better boyfriend.”

Seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes, you stepped forward closer to him, your heart aching for him. Gently, you cupped his cheek in your hand, feeling the warmth of his skin under your palm. “You’re not a bad boyfriend,” You reassured him, your voice soft and soothing. Xavier nuzzled into your hand, a small grateful small forming on his lips. "I know you would be the last person in this world to hurt me. It was just out of instinct, I’m sorry.”

The tension between you began to dissolve, bridging the gap that had formed during the argument. "Then let’s promise to never argue ever again,” He says, locking your eyes with yours. “I didn’t like it one bit.”

You nod with a soft smile as he reaches out to take your hand in his, holding it close. “We’ll find a better way to handle things. I love you too much to let anything come between us.” You both drew closer, wrapping each other in an embrace. He presses his lips gently on your forehead to remind you.

Zayne:

Zayne loves you very much. He may not always express it in words, but his actions always speak volumes and the way he takes care of you shows how deeply he cares. Most of your arguments tend to revolve around your wellbeing and the way you don't take care of yourself properly. When you're stubborn and brush off his concerns, it frustrates him further.

Tonight it seems like the frustration built up and Zayne who usually speaks with a gentle tone towards you, finds himself slightly raising his voice for the first time. It was out of a mix of desperation and concern for you. He raises his hand to fix the collar of his button up shirt. He tugs at the collar and tries to smooth it out, adjusting it. However, the sudden movement is mistaken by you in the heat of the moment. Seeing Zayne’s hand come up, your heart skips a beat and a rush of panic comes through you. At the moment, the gesture felt threatening as if he was trying to strike you. But deep down you know Zayne would never hurt you but rather the fear of the unknown makes you flinch. You take a step back, your eyes wide and your body tense.

Zayne notices your reaction and his face falls. The realization of his innocent gesture was misinterpreted and hits him like a wave. His throat tightens and he struggles to find the right words as he tries to reassure you. “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” His hand lowers and he swallows hard. His eyes were a mix of regret and exhaustion. The tension in his gaze is palpable, clear even without words. “I’m sorry,” He says, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I was just fixing my collar. I would never hurt you. Please, don’t think that. Forgive me my love.” His eyes lock onto yours, pleading for you to see the truth in his expression.

You can see the pain in his eyes, his usually composed demeanor has cracked under the weight of your misinterpretation. The fear in your chest slowly begins to disappear as you recognize his genuine remorse and the depth of his feelings.

As you speak, your body relaxes. "I'm sorry. I don't really know why I did that" You admit, letting out a sigh. You blink a few times, trying to prevent the tears that threaten to spill.

Zayne watches you with a soft, concerned look. He takes a deep breath, stepping closer to you. "May I?-"

You nod, and he closes the distance between you, enveloping you in his arms. He pulls you in a little tighter, his hands resting soothingly on your back.

"It's alright you do not have to know." He sighs, pressing a kiss at the top of your head as he rubs soothing circles on your back. "I promise you, I would never do such a thing. Please let me make it right my love."

Rafayel:

Usually your arguments were nothing more than just playful banter, something that was brushed off with laughter. But today, something was different about this argument. The conversation escalated into a heated argument, with both of you frustrated. The words you threw at each other were sharper, the silence afterward heavier.

Rafayel’s hands lifted to ruffle his hair out of frustration but it seemed to heighten the tension. You backed away, closing your eyes and turning your head, trying to shield yourself from a possible hit or a burn.

Seeing your reaction, Rafayel’s expression immediately softened. His hand dropped to his sides, and felt the sting of regret and concern pierce through his frustrations. He realized the impact of his actions so he steps forward with a sense of urgency, his heart pounding with a mix of worry and desperation. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you to reassure his need for you.

You nestled into his chest but your body remained tense from the argument’s intensity. “Cutie…You know I would never hurt you, right?” His voice was a mix of hurt and worry, trembling slightly as if his worst nightmare came true—losing you again. The thought of having you scared of him, after losing you once before, made him desperate to keep you in his embrace to prevent you from ever leaving him ever again.

He gently pulls away, his hands cupping your face with tenderness. His fingers stroked your cheeks softly and his gaze filled with a mixture of relief as he saw you relax against him. “You don't need to be scared,” He murmured, “I’m here to protect you. I promise I'll make it up to you.” The sincerity in his eyes and the gentle caress of his hands were a silent vow to ensure you felt safe and loved.

Later on that day he apologized in Glubglubnese, Popoposh, and Blublublun to start off by making it up to you.

Sylus:

You and Sylus had your fair share of arguments and you both always managed to talk things through and reach a compromise. This time, however, this disagreement delta relentless back-and forth that seemed to stretch on forever.

His scowl and the tone in his voice was unsettling. The room fell into an uneasy silence until Sylus brought a hand to his forehead, massaging his temples. At that moment, you made a mistake. To his hand raised, you flinched, fearing it was to use his evol on you or something worse.

Instinctively, you crouched down and shielded yourself with your arms, overwhelmed by a wave of shame and fear. You knew deep down that he would never hurt you, but your reflexes were too strong to ignore. With your face hidden, you missed the hurt and regret that clouded Sylus’s eyes. He took a deep breath, his voice softening as he stepped closer to you.

“Sweetie….” He says, his tone filled with sorrow. “Please, look at me.”

When you finally dared to meet his gaze, the intimidation was gone. He crouched down to your level, his expression soft and tender. He reached out, gently cupping your face and tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He sighed in relief knowing you didn’t flinch this time when he approached you.

“I would never hurt you,” He extends his hand, helping you up to your feet. As you stood, he pulled you into a heartfelt embrace. “How could I ever do that to someone I love so deeply? I would never forgive myself.” You rested your head against his chest and the familiar scent of him enveloped you, soothing your nerves. Sylus’s hands moved gently through your hair and traced comforting circles on your back that offered a silent apology and reassurance. In that moment, the argument was forgotten and replaced of a sense of tenderness.

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