#learn to be lonely learn to be okay and then find what you actually like and need

[vaguely-concerned]

This might be due to the fact that on my first playthrough I ended up creating a Rook more emotionally guarded than any of the companions except Minrathous-route Lucanis and perhaps Neve, so I was primed to look for it, but I never got the sense that the companions don’t care for Rook (the thought never even occurred to me until I saw other people post about it) — to me it seems much more like it’s Rook who keeps the last bit of distance, Rook who pulls away when the companions try to extend their care or worry too directly, who keeps themselves slightly apart. (Rook who is so full of grief they cannot know as grief and thus process that there’s no room inside them to let anything else all the way in, perhaps.) They deflect and flinch back when someone gets too close or approaches them too overtly about their feelings — especially when it brushes up against the theme of grief. They can offer care to all the companions who are grieving, come along to any number of funerals as emotional support, but the moment someone turns that towards them they shut that shit down Immediately, like when Taash almost gives the whole game away with ‘Like you’d know? You act like you haven’t lost anyone!’ and Rook just blandly responds ‘We’re talking about you’ and doesn’t engage. But they can also admit that they struggle with accepting compliments, or knowing what to say, or having confidence in themselves without Varric’s help.

Despite all their determination and even in their most stoic no-nonsense incarnation, Rook is awkward, with the struggles that entails. Someone who is eager and happy to be the helper wherever they can, and helplessly unequipped to know how to be the helpee, as it were. It’s not that the companions don’t return Rook’s attachment to them, there’s MUCH more of a ‘okay so what are the ways you will allow me to be good to you??’ desperation of care vibe behind all their invitations to conversations and hangouts together, to my mind. They bring Rook to their favourite places and share the things they love with them, they ask to spend time together (many times just to have their company, not because they have a problem they need help with! Sometimes the problem arises anyway b/c video game quest narrative of course), they bring them out for some direly needed grass touching, they introduce them to their families. Everyone is clearly getting the sense that Rook does Not want to talk about Varric especially (this is in fact what Harding says in banter, if she’s still alive after the reveal :’( ), but they are absolutely SCRAMBLING to find ways to show that they’re there for them even so. AND from the companions’ perspective, with the situation as they have the means to understand it, accepting that Rook isn’t ready to have that conversation and backing off is also a kind thing to do. (tl;dr: To Me Rook is that weirdly socialized friend who is a great hang once they’re actually there but you have to directly invite them or they don’t quite know how to initiate the contact themselves lol) 

Just as a crushing sense of responsibility for their family is a trait that is built into Hawke no matter how you play them or how you make them respond to that, I feel like Rook — however helpful and earnest, warm, charming, jocular, stoic or straightforward they seem at a surface glance — is always someone who struggles deeply with connecting to themselves and other people. (Emotional Intimacy, the Final Frontier.) As, indeed, is the case with all of the Veilguard companions too! It’s clearly a deliberate theme. These are all lonely people struggling with their sense of identity and belonging in some sort of way. AND having, working on and eventually starting to overcome these difficulties also makes Rook a direct foil for Solas, who doesn’t learn that lesson unless you corner him at the end of the world to force feed him his medicine lmao. They don’t manage to break out of the regret prison under their own steam, it’s because even struggling and grieving they have managed to create mutual bonds with other people who show up for them in turn now — and with all the protective walls of denial around what happened to Varric crumbling and making them less of a stranger to themselves, Rook is finally able to let them. An outcome Solas seemingly didn’t even consider to guard against, because he’s become that deeply entrenched in his loneliness, the utter isolation of the self — he can no longer truly imagine an alternative. (It’s not that he can’t form these bonds, obviously, it’s that he resolutely refuses to value them. Whether it’s because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it or out of a need for control or the martyr complex where he must sacrifice everything he loves on the sacrificial pyre of fixing his mistakes, all of the above and more, the result is the same. Mind!Varric, who I think is mostly Solas speaking, even calls this out directly. So yet again a situation where he has some self awareness about it and it doesn’t help At All haha. Solas falls to the temptation of making people into tools again and again and again, no matter how many times it comes back to bite him in the ass and the eternal solitude it traps him in.) 

And that deep deep loneliness… There but for the grace of… well the theological state of thedas being what it is right now, let’s just go with the grace of Something, Presumably go you as well, Rook. The same capacity/tendency to pull away from connection clearly lives in them as well in some form (again, for whatever reason and with whatever motivations and instincts behind it for any individual Rook). Solas and Rook coming together to create a blood magic paper doll of the mind Varric in response to acute loss and loneliness is one of the most deep , deeply fucked up and invasive acts of intimacy I’ve ever contemplated. I don’t think that’s accidental, there’s something There’s Something Wrong With You (there’s something wrong with you that’s also wrong with me (derogatory)) here that resonates no matter how both parties would hate to hear it. (A fitting legacy for Varric and his wild ‘I made my best friend into a story because it’s the only way I know how to love with this desperation of sincerity’ brain to leave in the narrative, methinks. I feel he’d appreciate it on a craft level, if nothing else.)

If you read through all of Rook’s potential backstories, one of the common threads through all of them, along with a certain maverick ‘I’ll do whatever it takes’ streak, is a sense of profound alienation. They did something or have some sort of quality that made it hard for them to fit in with the group they’re from, causing a conflict that cuts them off from parts of their identity as it’s been up until now. All of which also adds to how important Varric is to them — he was clearly able to break/see through some of that and be closer with them, even in the relatively short time they spent together. No matter what else goes to shit, they can trust that a) Varric sees them, b) he genuinely likes them and believes in them not despite who they are, but for it, and c) he’s got their back, we’re in this together kid. And then he is gone, and it takes them the whole game to be able to bring themselves to accept that and know themselves again, be able to let new relationships in fully. The very understandable ‘the last time I let someone in, they got stabbed before my eyes and the world ended’ flinch away, even if they’re not consciously aware that’s what it is. Anyway I love Rook. So much space to play around in here as to WHY they might feel or react like this, even when the framework is more defined.

[pineconepie]

Parental yandere vampire!!

TW: Implied neglect, implied abuse, yandere, parental yandere, forced age regression, death of family (not main characters), light violence, kidnapping

If there's any more trigger warnings I should add, let me know!

...

The cold gnawed at your bones, breath visible in front of you as you made your way through the thick snowfall. The chill bit into your skin, but you pressed on.

"Monster!" "Witch!" "Cursed!"

Their words echoed in your mind. The entire village thought you were some kind of monster, all because you were different from your peers. You were used to the kind of horrible treatment you received at their hands, and had long since learned not to fight it; no matter what you said, they never listened.

It got lonely never having friends, though. Even the people who weren't scared of you were ridiculed for being seen with you, sometimes even being called a witch just because they associated with you.

Your own family became embarrassed and ashamed by your reputation, to the point where they would go days ignoring your existence.

Sure, you had thought of running away before, but given you had nowhere to go, that'd just be a dumb idea.

Only when you overheard the church speaking of burning you at the stake did you realize just how little you actually had to live for there.

Either way, it seemed like your chances of death were high, so either way, fuck it, right?

You could barely feel your feet beneath you, wading through the snow.

How long have you been walking now? Hours? Days?

It feels like years. You felt tears burn at the edges of your eyes as you tripped over a root, collapsing into the soft cushioning of the snow.

A snarling noise behind you causes you to get back up and run, stumbling blindly and weakly through the snow.

You could barely tell what was going on behind you, but all you knew was that a vicious growl from some sort of animal was definitely not something you should just stand around for.

In the distance, you see a structure, probably the first one you've seen in days.

With some sudden rush of adrenaline, you sprint towards it, almost rolling down the hill leading up to the old building.

The steel gate in front of it makes you curse in frustration, looking up to assess how likely it is you can climb it. Your hands curl into fists around the bars, shaking violently as you pull. Not a chance.

"Help!" you scream, hoping whoever is inside can hear you. "Please!"

When there's no response, you turn back, seeing glowing yellow eyes approaching you. Fear courses through your veins, paralyzing you as you look on in horror. The shadowy beast prowls closer, standing tall on its four paws and staring you down hungrily.

Just as it stalks forward, ready to jump, it pauses. You squeeze your eyes shut and prepare for the inevitable. When the sharp fangs never come sinking into your flesh, you hesitantly crack an eye open. The beast whines and scampers off.

Only when the sound of its footsteps disappear completely does a breathy laugh escape your lips. What a weird twist of fate.

"My goodness! Are you okay?!"

You whip around to see a tall figure with piercing green eyes and long dark brown hair. He's wearing some kind of old-fashioned clothing that looks like it hasn't been touched in centuries.

Before you can say anything, you promptly pass out from exhaustion.

...

"You poor thing. I wonder where you came from..." A hand reaches down to caress your face, the gloved fingers ice cold against your flushed skin. "Seems as if you were meant to find me."

When you finally stir awake, your brain feels like it's rattling in your skull. Blinking slowly, you bring your hand up to rub at your temple, sighing and looking around. You're lying in a large canopy bed, soft red velvet sheets encompassing you.

Sitting up, you take note of the grandiose bedroom, decorated in similar deep shades of red, gold, and black.

There's antique furniture lining the room, with a large painting above the mantlepiece directly across from the foot of the bed. An embroidered carpet is spread on the floor, its design weaving into the same complex, golden filigree that is the headboard of the mattress.

Your gaze drops, noting that you aren't wearing the same clothes you were before.

Now you're wearing some kind of tunic, reminiscent of pajamas but far too fancy and extravagant to be called something so simple. The silk hugs your frame, falling delicately across your lap as you cross your legs and take a look around.

Then you meet his gaze.

He looks surprised that you woke up already, pulling his hand back quickly from where it was about to rest on your shoulder.

He had been watching you sleep, it seems.

The man clears his throat and smiles down at you. "Oh good. I thought for sure you'd sleep through dinner." His voice is deeper than you'd expected, but still gentle. He gestures to himself. "I am Octavian. What's your name, precious?"

"Uh–" You hesitate, caught off guard by the nickname. "I'm (Y/n)."

"A sweet name," he says simply, the corner of his mouth quirking up even more. Octavian reaches down to brush a strand of hair out of your face before straightening back up again.

You watch him cautiously, unsure why he's so comfortable touching a complete stranger.

Then again, you suppose most strangers don't magically appear outside of someone's home, either. Besides, he did just save your life; he deserves at least this much courtesy after helping you.

"It's been a very long time since I've seen anyone out here, let alone gotten any visitors. What on earth were you doing out here all alone? You certainly aren't a traveler, you barely were carrying anything with you." He looks almost ready to scold you.

"Well, uh..." You awkwardly tug at the sleeve of your nightgown, thinking how best to answer his question without opening the door for him to judge you or ask more questions. But he did save your life... "My village doesn't like me. Thinks I'm weird. And when they started talking about killing me, I figured it'd be better to get out sooner rather than later."

Octavian sucks in a sharp breath, concern written all over his features. "Killing you?" He puts a hand over his heart. "You poor thing. You must've been so scared," he coos.

"Yeah... I was," you admit. "I'm glad I ran into your place, at least."

The tall man gives you a soft smile, sitting down at the edge of the bed. It dips beneath him under his weight. "I am too. Stay right there, I'll go get you some dinner."

Before you can say anything else, Octavian slips out of the room.

You think back to when he found you. That animal chasing you acted scared when it saw him. Why? Sure, he's pretty tall, but the guy clearly wouldn't stand a chance against the teeth and claws of that thing. So why was it so spooked by him?

He reenters with a golden tray in hand. On top of it sits a bowl of soup and some bread.

"I'm afraid that's the only thing I have available at the moment," Octavian sighs, setting it down next to you and handing you a spoon. "It should warm you up though." He watches you eat with an adoring smile, one you miss, too busy ravaging into the food. "My Gods, you must've been starving. When was the last time you ate, sweetheart?"

You scarf down a piece of bread. "I haven't been keeping track of time. Maybe three days ago?"

Octavian almost appears on the verge of tears. "You poor little angel..." He hesitantly reaches his gloved hand over to wipe away a stray droplet of broth dribbling down your chin. "You won't ever go hungry again, I swear it."

"What do you mean?" you mumble while chewing on another piece of bread.

He gently wipes at your cheek. "You got some on your face. Messy thing," he tuts. His green eyes glow brighter. Unnaturally so. "I'll go refill your bowl. More bread?" He watches you nod, then takes the tray from you.

It was weird how he avoided your question, but you shrug it off. Seems like he's a little weird too.

...

After having four bowls of soup and God-knows-how-much bread, you finally start to feel full for the first time in ages. Octavian watches with pride as you polish off each meal, praising you for cleaning your plate every single time.

In the middle of him gushing over you, you interrupt him.

"So... Do you think I could use your horse tomorrow morning to head back into town?" you ask shyly. "Assuming you have one."

Octavian freezes, brows furrowing as if in confusion. "(Y/n)... surely you don't think I'm just going to send you back to the people that are trying to kill you?"

"Well, not mine... just a town nearby," you shrug. "Anywhere with people, really."

He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. "There is no other civilization for miles. No. That'd just be a death wish."

You try not to raise your voice, reminding yourself it's thanks to him you're even alive. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

He opens his mouth to argue, but snaps it shut before taking a deep breath. "You need some rest. Let's discuss this later." You frown in frustration, knowing he's avoiding talking about it. Though he has a point. Sleepiness settles within you, a yawn bubbling past your lips. He bends down to kiss your forehead. "Sweet dreams, little love."

He's so weird.

...

The next day, you venture from the room he put you in, looking around. As to be expected, everything is beautifully furnished, from the wallpaper to the ceilings to the marble columns holding it all up.

In your searching, you stumble upon a portrait.

There's a tall man holding two children, with a woman standing next to him. It takes you a minute before you realize the man is Octavian.

He looks exactly the same in the portrait, except now his hair is slightly longer and he's wearing different clothes. Something in his appearance also seems happier.

You squint at the picture, wondering what's up with it.

"That's my family."

You jump, turning to see Octavian standing beside you, eyes glazed over as he gazes at the painting.

"Oh. They're beautiful," you whisper. You can hear him suck in a shaky breath. "Are they here?"

A melancholy smile pulls at his lips, though it doesn't meet his eyes. "No. My wife and my son and daughter... they're no longer here." His voice is far quieter than before.

Your chest grows heavy when you realize what he means. "I-I'm so sorry..."

The last thing you were expecting was for this to be so sad. Here you thought the picture was taken recently. Guilt pools in your belly for thinking that, especially now that you know the truth. Poor guy.

Octavian places a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Don't apologize. I think my loneliness streak is nearing its end." He guides you away from the painting and to the stairs. "Let's go eat. Breakfast should be ready by now." You're silent, not sure how to respond.

Walking down the ornate staircase, Octavian keeps his hand placed firmly on the small of your back.

Once you both reach the ground level, he removes it, walking ahead into the kitchen area. Following, you sit down across from him, watching as he places food in front of you both.

"It feels nice to cook for someone else again," he hums, beginning to dig into his own plate of food.

It smells really good, which you suppose you shouldn't be surprised by given the fact that everything else in this house seems to be perfect in its presentation.

"Thank you," you mutter, picking up the silverware and eating.

The two of you talk idly throughout the meal, Octavian being mindful of what you like and don't like to eat for future reference.

He asks you about yourself, appearing invested in every little tidbit you drop. Eventually, you're finally satiated, leaning back against your chair with a pleased sigh.

You watch him do the dishes and leave into what you presume is the living room. Curiously, you follow after him.

He's holding an open book, reading glasses perched on his nose.

The fire flickers and crackles, providing heat to the otherwise chilly space.

Sitting down next to him, you catch his eye. Octavian smiles at you and scoots closer, putting one arm around you and shifting his eyes back to his book.

Unsure of how else to react, you lean into the embrace. He's very cold compared to most people, you find.

The gesture is welcome though, regardless of the cool chill of his skin. Even through his gloves, you can tell his body temperature isn't normal.

If he came from your village, the villagers would definitely think he's some paranormal beast too.

Maybe that's why he lives so secluded from society.

...

A few more days pass. He gets a little more odd, but it just makes you more comfortable to show your own quirks too.

One morning, you wake up next to a teddy bear placed between your arms. He must've put it there last night.

It's almost like he senses you're awake, because he strides into the room not even a minute later.

"There's my sweet little angel," Octavian coos. "Did you sleep well?" You yawn and rub at your eye with a closed fist. He gives you a bright smile at that and sits on the edge of the bed. "Do you like your toy? I figured it might keep you company while I'm gone. Does it help?"

"Yeah, but..." You frown. "How'd you get it? There's no nearby shops, right?"

Octavian nods. "It belonged to my son." At that, you stare wide eyed down at the stuffed animal, moving to give it back to him.

"I-I can't take this from you–"

He grabs your hands and holds them in place around the toy, shaking his head. "Nonsense, I want you to have it." His eyes burn with such intense emotion, so much so that you're unable to resist the pull to listen to his request. "Keep it, please. When this winter is over, I'll go get you some of your own stuffies and clothing. Do you have any clothing preferences? Any favorite animals?"

"When winter is over, I'll be leaving," you correct him.

He stiffens. "Right. Of course. Silly me." His emerald irises flash with something unreadable.

The rest of the day, he becomes even more overbearing.

He pulls you into his lap whenever he has the chance, insisting you rest your head against his chest while he reads to you (all of which are children's books). He constantly is giving you random little hugs, or complimenting you for whatever little mundane things you do.

You only allow it because you feel pity for him.

Each time you even try to pull away slightly, he looks so heartbroken and hurt, as if you stabbed him in the chest.

And it's not like you dislike it. You're so starved for attention and touch that it actually feels kind of good, having someone hug you and hold your hand and read to you.

It makes up for all the times you've been neglected.

Each day, he gets even more coddling and babying with you. You wonder why he's like this.

Then it hits you.

His kids are gone. He's never going to have another chance to hold his babies again.

This behavior... is this just him projecting his loss onto you? Trying to relive the feeling of caring for a child?

It breaks your heart for him, making you feel more guilty for wanting to leave.

...

As the snow begins to melt, Octavian gets more antsy. He constantly holds you in his arms now, rambling about anything and everything, bouncing and swaying side to side.

It reminds you of how mothers soothe their babies.

One day, he stops to give you a serious look, gripping your face in his hands and kissing your cheekbone.

"Please," Octavian whispers, desperation seeping into his tone, "please please please stay." Tears drip down his pale skin. "You have no idea what these past few weeks have meant to me." The grip on your jaw tightens and he shakes his head with a dry laugh. "God, I can't imagine living without you anymore! Don't make me go through that agony again! Don't abandon me! You're happy here!"

Your hands hesitantly grab his wrists, not pulling him away but letting him know your boundaries. "These past few weeks meant a lot to me too. But I don't want to live alone out here, forever."

He sniffles and glares down at you. "What do you mean? You wouldn't be alone. I'm here. You'd have me!"

"But I want more people than that!" you cry out. "And in the end, you're still basically a stranger..."

That last sentence was the wrong thing to say.

All color drains from his face, shock freezing him in place.

"A-A stranger...?" Octavian scoffs, betrayal seeping into his broken voice. "After all this time together?! After all the things I've done for you, all the things we've talked about?!" You tremble and try to move away. "Why can't you love me back?! Your parents don't want you, but I do!"

You shake your head. "You're freaking me out..." Never before had you been so scared of this man. Never did you think he'd act this way, even with how affectionate and caring he could be. This is on a whole new level. "I'm not a kid. Just because you lost yours doesn't mean you can make me yours instead!"

Octavian doesn't say anything.

The silence that hangs thick in the air between you is deafening. It makes you want to scream, break it somehow, just so you don't have to endure how tense this is.

Tears pool in his eyes. He hesitates, then yanks off both of his gloves and drops them to the ground.

You notice his fingernails are long and sharp. Like claws. Not human.

"What...?"

"I've never been normal either." Octavian lets out a choked sob. "My wife died trying to protect our children from vampire hunters." He bares his teeth, revealing pointed fangs. "She couldn't. They all died before I could save them."

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

A mix of fear and sympathy swirls in your gut, making you feel nauseous and disoriented all at once. You step backwards, putting distance between you and him.

His eyes grow dull. "I couldn't save them. But I could save you." Octavian reaches out with those strange hands and cups the sides of your neck with a featherlight touch, holding your gaze despite your attempts at averting it. "You may think of yourself as big, but to me? You're just a baby."

A pitiful whine leaves your lips as your eyes begin to water.

"They said the same things about me. Aberration. Monster. I know how you feel; how lonely and awful it is. That's why you need to stay with me," he insists. "We understand each other. We're the same."

"No! You're crazy!" you exclaim, backing up further until your back hits a wall behind you. His form looms over yours ominously, casting a shadow across the floor beneath him. "Stop fucking touching me!"

"Maybe I am crazy," Octavian humorlessly chuckles. "But anyone would become unhinged from losing everything dear to them." Without warning, he moves quicker than lightning, picking you up and holding you close to his chest. He curls himself over you, shielding you from nothing as if to protect you. His body completely engulfs yours, swallowing you in his presence. It's unnerving. "Everything will be okay now. Papa will keep you safe. No one will ever hurt you again," he promises softly. "You won't be like them."

"No, no, stop," you beg pathetically. "Let me go."

"Shhh... this will hurt a tiny bit, but only for a moment. It's necessary for us to always be together," he hushes you. "I was going to save this for when you've settled in more, but I can't have you run away."

Octavian kisses the top of your head before pulling the collar of your shirt down just enough for his mouth to hover above your bare shoulder.

"Nonono, please, don't!" you cry. "I don't wanna be a vampire!"

"I know, sweetheart," he laments. "I hate seeing you in pain, too."

Before you can say anything else, Octavian sinks his teeth deep into the flesh of your exposed shoulder blade.

You shriek in pain as you feel fangs digging into muscle tissue and sinew alike. Tears stream freely down your cheeks now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your frame as blood runs freely down your back and stains your clothes crimson red.

"Shhhh..." he hushes again, caressing your hair even while he drinks away your humanity. "I love you, I love you, I love you..."

By the time he's finished drinking, you feel woozy from blood loss and adrenaline. Octavian lifts you up, grip looser now that you're too tired to struggle, and dampens a cloth under the faucet, using it to clean up the excess blood.

Then he takes you back to the bedroom, tucking you underneath layers upon layers of warm bedding.

You try to speak, but your throat hurts so badly and you can barely move. Everything feels heavy, including your eyelids which threaten to shut due to exhaustion.

"Get some sleep. It's bedtime for little ones," he murmurs giddily. He adjusts the blankets covering you. "Oh, I knew I was missing something." You hear him shuffle around the room before returning. Suddenly the familiar feeling of the teddy bear is pressed against your torso, its fur tickling your nose.

"Papa..." you croak deliriously, thinking of your own father.

"Yes," he says. His face splits into a manic smile. "That's right." Octavian crawls under the covers next to you, dragging you towards his cold figure. He combs through your hair and cuddles you tightly, as though if he lets go, he might lose you. "Say it again. Say 'Papa.'"

You don't reply, far too exhausted to even care anymore. All you do is slump against him and close your eyes.

Octavian squeezes you tighter.

He buries his nose into the top of your head and breathes deeply.

"My baby..." His words sound distant as slumber overtakes your mind and drags you into darkness. "You're back home where you belong."

[broodygaming]

I took the train to go back and forth to my friends wedding and on the way back decided to be cheeky and download the Girl On the Train audiobook. Didn’t know anything about it, hadn’t heard of it or the movie that apparently exists.

And ?? Are the straights okay? I could barely make it more than an hour or two. It’s exhausting and I don’t think I’ve even gotten to the first big twist. I think there’s a bloody scene and it’s on the plot description of the wiki page so it’s prob relatively early and I have not gotten to that haha so holy shit. Don’t think I’ll finish it. Ehh. It took so much effort to learn their names it feels like a waste to not finish it but also YEESH it’s exhausting.

[ataraxiaspainting]

360-Degree Vision.

Yan Silas x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, non-con, oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, Silas calls himself Mommy because he's a weirdo, and "force feeding".

Word Count: 700.

OC and art pictured above belongs to amazingly talented @meo-eiru!! i really love her art, so be sure to check her out!! <333

*~*~*~*

Silas only allows autumn leaves and snow to fall where your feet don’t touch but your eyes can still see.

It’s an odd sort of shape, the barrier he has around his tree. It reminds him of those little sketches you do he puts by his bedside table. He read from a book that human mothers do that whenever their children give them drawings, though you never gave yours to him per se. More likely than not you were waiting for a more special occasion, but he found them in your toy box whilst he was tidying up from another long day of taking care of you. 

What a unique art style you have – he read in the same book that human children’s little doodles can be nearly unrecognizable from what they are supposed to be most of the time, so he doesn’t question how the circles you drew kept going around and around and leading to nowhere.

A snail’s shell, perhaps? 

The spirals seemed too large and too filled… 

He’ll give you points for creativity. 

Positive reinforcement was key with these kinds of things, or so he’s been told – if you ever ask for a pet snail, he’ll get one for you in little to no time at all.

*~*~*~*

“Baby,” Silas’ smile is smaller because of the concern he has for you right now. “You have to finish your dinner. It’s good for you. When you finish we can go see little mushrooms and squirrels, okay? Only for a little bit though,” His right hand is still above your head, squishing you down when your body seems to want to get up too soon. “Mommy doesn’t want you to get sick again…”

Despite Silas sitting down, he was still more than half your height – your knees sink further into the mattress both of you are on.

They are shivering so much but he doesn’t notice.

No, it’s not that he doesn’t care – he’s too busy flaunting his length and chest to you to pay attention to how you actually feel, wanting you to pick your poison once again; seeing this as necessary to your development.

Last time for yesterday’s meals you chose his cock – the day before that you chose his breasts.

The more you suck from him, the more you’re given treats after. Something resembling those colorful markers you used to get at the local dollar store, containers of blueberry yogurt you hope came from his village’s cows or some similar type of animal, a new dress he had sewn himself or had customized and bought from a nearby elf tailor.

“I’ll even bring some paper and those pencils you like drawing with, hm?” Silas continues as he scoots closer to you – he holds your hair so gently now, but whenever he cries tears of pure happiness the grip will tighten quickly. “Maybe you can see a snail up close for those little spirals you like doing.”

…

No matter how much you rebel and kick and scream, the elf wouldn’t move back from you – if anything it gives him more of a reason to come closer, so you can have more of his ‘love’. After only a little bit of time, you learned how to let the frustration out in a way that didn’t have Silas doting over you so suffocatingly – drawing spirals. You were told once by a friend they can be therapeutic in times of stress. You most likely will never see her again but you would want to hug her because it works. 

You hid them amongst the dolls and building blocks you were given in times you were alone – staring at them made you feel less lonely, made you feel like you had more of a choice in how you spent your waking hours.

You didn’t expect Silas to find them. He never checks your toy box because you tidy it up so often.

You don’t know how to explain your drawings in a way Silas will understand. Not that he understands a lot of things that come out of your mouth.

You just nod. Maybe drawing a snail’s body below those spirals can help you too.

“Good girl! Listening so well!” His smile widens and you can see his eyes getting watery already.

[brucewaynehater101]

Android Tim Drake AU:

Drake Industries announced they had successfully created realistic-looking androids that passed the Turing Test (and harder versions of it). They were planning to release commercial models to the public within twenty years.

To go a step farther, the Drakes wanted to ensure no one was skeptical of the androids' abilities to pass as human. Thus, Janet and Jack Drake had a healthy "human" baby by the name of Timothy Jackson Drake. The only individuals aware of this are Tim, Janet, Jack, and a small handful of engineers bound with a fuck ton of NDAs. They planned to tell the public when Tim was eighteen.

While Janet and Jack Drake are aware of Tim's ability to mimic emotions, they do not believe him to be capable of actually feeling them. This leads to Tim's childhood being lonely and neglectful. He is a robot.

At first, Tim is incapable of consuming human foods or using his touch sense. They fix his touch sense by the time he is four (and thus Dick is his first hug), and the food by the time he is six. He is constantly undergoing repairs to allow him to mimic the growth pattern of a child. It's when he is nine that he finally gets pain sensors to discourage and alert him to damage.

Tim is, for all intents and purposes, legally a human. When Janet dies and Jack gets into a coma, Tim stops receiving "growth spurts." He remains the same size even after Jack wakes up from his coma.

When Tim becomes Robin, he does not disclose his status with Bruce, Dick, or anyone else. Given that his parents treat him like an object, a machine, and incapable of feelings, Tim doesn't want to be subjected to that by his heroes either.

Instead, he gaslights the hell out of the Bats, villains, and other heroes whenever he gets hit.

["Tim! You got flung into a building. You are getting a medical exam."

Tim narrows his eyes as his eyebrows raise in surprise. "Bruce.... what are you talking about?"

"I saw you get thrown into a building. You're not getting out of this."

Tim glances to the side and then back to his mentor. He carefully places a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "B... Maybe we should have Alfred check you over."

Bruce blinks in shock as his brows furrow. "What?"

Tim purses his lips and shakes his head in pity. "It's okay, B. We'll figure it out. Whatever is going on, we'll fix it."

Bruce is so confused and concerned he doesn't ask Tim to get a medical check and agrees to be checked over instead.]

Tim becomes an expert at repairing himself because he can't explain to the engineers (most of who were let go after Janet died) how he got damaged. He spends a lot of nights alone in his room turning off his pain sensors (which isn't an automatic process and is difficult to reach)in order to fix the mangled hand, the gaping gash, the crooked foot, etc.

Kon, and conversely YJ, are the first to find out about his status (darn x-ray vision and super hearing). This encourages Tim to create artificial sounds within himself to fool Superman when they first meet. This also forces Tim to wear a long-sleeved uniform and a hood to hide from x-ray vision.

Tim finds comradery with Red Tornado.

When Jack wakes up from his coma, he originally treats Tim as he did before: an object. Dana, though, changes this. Jack can't explain why he treats his "son" that way and slowly morphs into becoming a good father.

It starts as only occurring when Dana is in the room and ends with a very bitter and antagonistic Jack when she leaves. He is initially disturbed by how much Tim is "faking" emotions, particularly because Tim learned to conceal his emotions from his parents as a coping mechanism (not that Jack knows this).

As they start spending more and more time together, Jack begins accepting the idea that Tim is capable of emotions. He starts caring and loving the kid as his own.

Because of this, Jack becomes fearful for Tim. When he learns that Tim is Robin, he is both jealous of Bruce's relationship with Tim and absolutely terrified for his son (what happens if people find out that Tim is an android? How would they treat him? Tim told Jack the Waynes don't know about his status. What if Tim gets injured too badly during a mission and they find out?)

This is why Jack initially forbids Tim from being Robin. There is way too much at stake for Tim if he continues (even though, theoretically, Tim can't die. Jack can keep saves of Tim and import him into a new body if necessary. They both don't want to do this, however, because Tim's body is his. It would feel weird and wrong to put him in another one).

While Tim is prohibited from being Robin, Jack bankrupts his company in the process of getting Tim rights. He bribes the hell out of judges, law makers, etc. to subtly put I'm rights for androids. He wants Tim to have full access to his inheritance, to freedom, and to everything humans can do. He doesn't want Tim to be without it.

Tim doesn't understand why Drake Industries is going under and is pissed at Jack for preventing him from being Robin. Robin is everything to Tim. It allows him to be treated as human. It connects him to so many people.

It's only afterwards, when Tim is finally allowed to be Robin again (and Jack has ensured he did everything he could for now for Tim's rights), that Tim fully understands how much Jack loves and cares for him.

Then Jack dies.

Tim is able to hide the fact that he's an android up until a Red Helmet asshole breaks into the Tower. While YJ whisk him away before the Bats can find out, Jason knows. Jason found out.

[findmeinforks]

Understanding - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader

A little break up, make up one shot while I work on part two of stay 💕 as always, let me know what you think! 2.4K Words ❤️

You had been understanding. You had been so, incredibly, unbelievably understanding. You had been kind, patient, considerate. You had thrown every insecurity away in your mind. You shoved your feelings right down your throat.

But that was over with now.

Now, you faced him. In the middle of the yard, your throat agonizingly raw from yelling. You were shocked he hadn't phased yet, but he knew the minute he did you would take off. The pack, watching from afar and unbeknownst to you, were also shocked at his restraint.

"I would NEVER do anything to hurt you. Why won't you believe that?"

You laughed wetly through the tears. You were down right manic over what he didn't comprehend.

"Really?? You don't understand why I would be upset by ANY of this? Are you that fucking blind?"

Paul huffed through his nose, attempting to control his temper.

"I have a job, Y/N. There's new bloodsuckers popping up every day now and we have to make sure we're ready for anything. That means stacking up our numbers against them. Guy or girl, they have to be trained."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes,

"And don't you find it at all peculiar that everyone else is out on their own but you're STILL having to train this same girl? DAY IN AND DAY OUT?!"

He sighed.

"She should be ready, I know. But every time we get on patrol, she gets fearful and fails at basic exercises. Sam has me spend extra time with her."

You threw up your hands as if the answer was obvious, "Then TELL Sam to have someone else take a turn?"

"She only likes training with me."

Your eyes went wide, and all you saw was red.

"AND THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU ANY FUCKING CLUE THAT MAYBE SHES FAILING ON PURPOSE FOR YOUR ATTENTION? THAT MAYBE SHE DOESNT GIVE A SHIT ABOUT IMPRINTS? THAT MAYBE PERHAPS SHE HAS DIFFERENT INTENTIONS?"

Paul shook his head, him now scoffing.

"It's actually really hard to learn to navigate being a wolf. That's something YOU don't seem to understand."

You think you had lost your mind. It seemed as though the world crumbled around you, his words ringing in your ears from the impact. That was not something the imprint you knew before this would have ever dared say to you. It wasn't that you believed Paul would ever be disloyal, but your instincts were damn sure this girl wanted him to be.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

"You're right. I don't. You need to be with someone that understands. We're done."

Paul stepped back like he had taken a blow to the chest. His eyes softened now.

"You....you don't mean that."

You headed towards your car, not being able to face the broken look in his eyes.

"Y/N, wait," he reached out, and even though you were mad, a part of it killed you to deny him.

You shook your head, new tears rehydrating their original streaks.

You sniffled, and took a deep breath.

"I'm tired, Paul. I'm tired of waiting up for you. I'm tired of being left unanswered for hours. I'm tired of making plans that just get canceled. Im tired of being lonely. And most of all, I'm tired of being disappointed."

He grabbed your arm before you could fully get in, and you saw Sam emerge, still at a respectable distance from the two of you.

"Baby listen, okay, I'm sorry. I can do better I-"

"You've said that before Paul. This is not the first time we've fought about this."

Tears pricked the corners of his eyes now.

"Please. Don't." He whispered.

He almost made you cave. You so badly wanted to stay. But you also knew if you did, it would be the same reoccurring cycle. He had to know you were serious. You wanted the relationship you had before she came along. Until you were sure you would get that again, you had to leave.

"I have to go. Call me when your priorities change." You said as you gently pulled out of his grip and shut the door. And with that, you took off to your father's place.

-

Paul stood planted in the same spot you had left him, shattered. What had he done?

He felt a small hand on his shoulder, a feminine voice in his ear,

"Maybe it was for the better. She seems like a total bitch."

Paul's blood turned cold. It was as if in that very moment, he had come to his senses. The smoke had cleared in his crowded mind. You were right. Of course you were right. All the stress that had been on his plate, he hadn't been thinking clearly at all.

He came to realization now, and it was too late.

Paul yanked away his arm, turning with a fury in his eyes to the woman behind him. She shrunk back under his gaze, feigning an innocence he knew good and well was all fake.

He trembled with anger, barely registering that Sam was now in between him and the girl. Paul pointed a finger at her, teeth gritting with anger.

"Get. The FUCK. Away from me."

Paul ripped apart as he phased, having it bottled up for far too long, and dashing off like a mad man into the woods.

The woman gaped like a fish, starting to babble, turning to Sam for reassurance.

"I didn't do anything I-"

Sam huffed a breath through his nose, "You heard him. I think it would be best if you left. Embry's cousin or not, you are no longer welcome here. That's an order."

Sam shook his head, running a hand through his hair as she stormed off. He felt guilty for letting it get like this. He had some suspicions about her joining the pack, seeing as she was always gravitating towards Paul, but he had shrugged it off, too occupied with everything else going on.

Sam also knew too well what it was like to hurt an imprint. Physically or emotionally, the bond felt all the same. Strict alpha or not, he valued Paul as a brother, and just hoped you would come back for him.

-

As Paul laid his head onto his pillow, he watched the days go by before him. Being forced to come eat dinner by Emily and whenever he had patrol were just about the only times Paul left his bed. He would call you once a day, sometimes with a small hope you'd answer, and sometimes just to hear your voicemail. After his patrol shifts ended, he would often sneak off to your house, just to make sure he'd know you were safe, if even from a mile away.

-

"Do you think she'll ever come back?" Kim asked Jared quietly one day, after watching Paul barely eat his food and sulk back up to his room.

"I don't know honestly. Y/N is just as stubborn as he is. But I do miss him. I've never in my life seen Paul like this. His internal thoughts are depressing as hell..."

Kim sighed, "It's not like she's doing any better. She finally answered my call yesterday, and I had to double check who I was talking too. She's miserable, Jare."

He shrugged, "I mean what can we do about it babe? You can't get involved in people's business like that."

"They're not people. They're family." She mumbled as she clutched her coffee mug.

-

Another week had gone by, the pack all sitting in the kitchen getting ready to eat.

"Boys. We have information on the new vampires in town," Sam announced as he walked through the door with Jacob.

"They're after Bella. She had a run in with that red head we keep chasing to the border every night. Her boyfriend had tried to kill her so the Cullen's killed him, and now this bitch is assembling an army to take her out for revenge." Jacob relayed.

This grabbed Paul's attention. If they were after your sister, that meant you were in danger.

"We're going to help them fight. Our people are at risk if we let this get out of hand, or if the Cullen's lose. But until the army comes here, we're going to be sharing shifts with them to watch over the Swan house," Sam said, looking at Paul who was heading out the door.

"Paul."

"You can watch Bella from a distance. I'm taking my imprint home," he slammed the front door.

"I can't imagine that's gonna go good." Embry mumbled.

-

Your body jolted upright from the couch at the abrupt knocking on the front door. You hadn't been expecting anyone, Bella out doing who knows what with Edward, and Charlie hours away on a fishing trip.

Opening the door your breath caught in your throat.

"What are you doing here?"

"We have to go. Now." He said sternly, ignoring your bewildered look as he flew past you and up the stairs to your room.

"And just who the hell do you think you are?!" You stormed after him, appalled he was barging in your house like this.

"There's an entire army of vampires on the hunt for your sister. You're not safe here, I'm taking you to Emily's." he said as he grabbed a suitcase and started throwing random clothes in.

"You don't own me Paul Lahote. I'm not going anywhere with you." You crossed your arms as you looked at him incredulously.

He refused to look you in the eye as he spoke, his breathing heavy from your scent,

"It is still my job to protect you whether we're together or not. You don't have to talk to me at all if you don't want too, and you can sleep in the spare bedroom" He said as he continued to pack.

You laughed.

"Come to Emily's with her there? I think the fuck-"

"She's not there anymore."

"Ohhhh so because she's gone you care about me again."

He stopped, this time turning to look you in the eyes for the first time in two weeks.

"Don't you ever fucking say that. I could give a shit less about her. It's always been you. I'm....look, I'm sorry I didn't make you believe that before. You were right. And I was so unbelievably wrong. I understand why you don't want to be with me anymore. I'm not asking you to forgive me. Im asking, just for the time being, that you do this so that I know you are safe....please."

You wish you could have stopped the tears that welled up in your eyes. A part of you wanted to stay mad forever, just to make a point. But the other just wanted to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him. Two weeks felt like two years apart from him, and your heart so desperately ached to be near him again.

"Fine," you whispered.

Paul looked like he wanted to say something more, his eyes lingering on yours, but he decided against it, zipping up your bag and heading to the truck.

-

Once you both arrived to Emily's the pack headed out to train with the Cullen's, leaving you both and Kim at the kitchen table.

"So you guys.....didn't make up?" Kim asked disappointed.

You shook your head, "He just wanted me here. He apologized and said he wanted me to be safe. It was left at that."

Emily reached her hand over into yours,

"Do you want to be with him?" She asked genuinely.

"I.....I mean," you sighed. "Of course I want to be with him. I just was so angry, you know?? I didn't like feeling that way in our relationship. Alone."

The girls nodded understandably.

"If it helps, he's been an absolute wreck without you. I think if anything it was a wake up call." Kim offered.

"I haven't been exactly living the best either," you slightly chuckled.

"Well. We are more than excited to have you back in the house. That being said, I'm going to need both of your help with dinner." Emily smiled as she looked at the clock, standing up.

You grinned, happy to at least be here with your friends.

-

It was the night before the fight. Everything was quiet, but you lie awake, your mind racing. You hadn't said much to Paul in the three days you were here. There were lingering stares, brushing past eachother occasionally in the hall, but no conversations had been had. You felt a pit in your stomach at the idea of this fight. What if something happened and you never got to see him again? What if the last thing you had between you two was this awkward tension? The more you thought about it, the faster the tears spilled down your cheeks. You sniffled hard.

A gentle knock at the door startled you, getting up you frantically tried to wipe them away.

There he stood on the other side, leaning against the frame. His eyes looked so exhausted, like he hadn't gotten sleep either in days. "Whats wrong?" He said softly, taking a look at your face.

His gentle voice was enough to send you flying into his embrace. You arms wrapped around him as you sobbed into his neck.

He held your waist as he walked you both backwards into the room, shutting the door. His hand caressed your face as he leaned his cheek on your forehead.

"Hey, hey. Shhhh. I'm right here. It's okay. You're okay. You're safe."

You leaned back just enough to look at him, shaking your head. Your voice was broken and trembling,

"I-I don't care that I'm safe. T-tomorrow. A-and you. What if we never-"

Paul used both hands to cradle your face.

"Hey. Listen to me. Everything will be okay. This is what we've been training for. It's us and the Cullen's against them, our numbers are stronger. I'll be fine, alright? I'm just happy you're here and away from harm."

"I can't live without you. I love you." You whispered.

Paul instantly kissed you. It was like a wave of relief and happiness washed over you as you kissed him back with every ounce of passion you could muster.

Both your tongues danced as you refused to pull away from eachother. Paul bent down only for a moment to hoist you up in his arms, taking you into his room instead.

Unfortunately due to advanced hearing, the house was no longer quiet that night.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

I feel like advice on loneliness comes in only three flavors:

"It's all mindset, learn to embrace being alone and you'll never feel lonely!"

"Your head is lying to you, you have friends and they love you!"

"Here's a list of places you can go to hang out with people and make new friends!"

Those are usually well-meant and I'm sure there are situations where they do help someone feel better - but they're definitely not universally applicable.

The first one is even plain wrong: connection is a basic human need. You can't just "change your mindset" and turn that off, the same way you can't turn off your need for food or air or mental stimulation. Humans are group animals. We absolutely need social interactions to stay healthy and sane. It is true that some people do not need a large number of friends and are happiest with just one or two close friends, and it is also true that some people prefer to fulfill their social needs in other ways than what's traditionally defined as friendship - but that's not something you can (or should) try to train yourself to do, that's just natural differences and preferences!

The only thing you could "train" yourself to do would be to learn to ignore your social needs and bury them deep down under layers of denial... and you don't need me to explain to you why that's a very unhealthy idea. It's sad enough that so many people have to do that to not lose their minds in loneliness, we certainly don't need to celebrate an unhealthy coping skill as a "superior mindset".

The other two at least get a bit closer to the truth: the solution for your unmet need is not to kill the need, but to fulfill it... but that's easier said than done, isn't it?

After all, "Don't worry, your friends love you!" doesn't help if you have no friends. Loneliness is not always "all in your head": Maybe you moved to a new place and don't know anyone there. Or you cut off contact with all your friends after a big fight. Or you grew up neurodivergent (or got mentally ill at a young age) and had no chance to learn how to make friends at the age most kids do, and by now you have been friendless for so long you don't even know where to start.

Same with "just go to a bar and talk to some new people" or "Take a pottery class and you'll meet some interesting people there" - that's not factually wrong, but also not helpful if the reason you feel lonely is that you struggle to make friends (or even struggle to just talk to people). Which can also be part of neurodivergence or mental illness, or just be a part of your personality (shyness), or be a result of isolating circumstances (like having spent a lot of time in a closed environment, for example a long hospital stay, and now feeling unsure how to connect with people outside of that environment). 

And those are just a few of the many, many possible explanations why someone may be lonely that require a more individualized approach - which is why we can’t solve loneliness with any one-size-fits-all solution.

That may be a somewhat disappointing-sounding conclusion in a letter on loneliness, so let me also tell you: hope and support are always within reach, even if it might take some time and patience to find them. The key is to remember that your feelings are valid and that you're not alone in your struggle.

First, recognize that admitting that you feel lonely, and wanting to take action based on that feeling, is a sign of strength, not weakness. You’re pretty insightful for recognizing your loneliness and super brave for wanting to reach out!

Secondly, be kind to yourself and allow yourself to take small steps. Small, actually manageable steps are crucial in any healing journey! If it’s not an option to just go to the bar or that pottery class, then it’s okay to start somewhere else. Maybe a therapist, a support group, or even online communities can be valuable “training sessions” for social connections. Even reaching out to one single person can make a significant difference over time. Your journey to finding companionship and connection might be different from someone else’s, but that doesn't make it any less valid (or achievable!).

Lastly, do consider embracing new activities that you may enjoy - but not just for the sake of meeting others. It’s important to nurture your own happiness and well-being when you’re feeling lonely. Those can be activities you can try out alone and even at home, for now! Anything that enriches your life is good. Long down the road, maybe it will lead to opportunities to connect with others, but even if it doesn’t: it’s important to incorporate new experiences into your life.

While there isn't a universal solution to loneliness, I truly believe there is a path forward for everyone. It's all about finding what works for you.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 to this post

'Is something wrong?' Nancy asks, not long after the two of them have taken their familiar spots on the hood of Steve's car. They're basking in what might be the last warm sunlight of the year, looking out over the quarry, at a safe distance from the edge.

It's become a tradition the two of them share, ever since they reconnected back in March. It calms them both, to just sit here and take in the view, no one around but each other. Nancy is one of the few people Steve can share a comfortable silence with: sometimes they sit here quietly for what feels like hours, side by side, listening to music or to nothing but the birds singing around them. But they also have their best conversations here: it's the place where Nancy entrusted him she wanted to break up with Jonathan; it's the place where they talked about their shared past and decided they would always love each other as friends; it's the place where they finally talked about Barbara in a way they couldn't when they were younger. It's where Nancy talked about the ghosts still haunting her and Steve talked about how lonely he sometimes felt.

Steve huffs. 'How did you guess?'

'When you frown, you always do it with your whole face,' Nancy notes. 'So it's hard to miss, really.'

Steve glances at her side profile. There's a serenity to her features that's still relatively new. It means she's healing, slowly learning how to be happy again. It means she stopped waiting for the end of the world and started believing in a real future again. It makes Steve proud of how far they both have come.

'I had a fight with Eddie,' he confesses. 'And with Dustin, I guess.'

'What happened?'

He sighs. 'It's complicated.'

'Wanna tell me about it?'

The look in her eyes is kind and inviting. Steve hesitates. He wants to, but he doesn't know if he can. It's a risk. It's scary.

But he can't imagine Nancy Wheeler ever being careless with his secrets. He can't imagine her judging him, can't imagine her being as small-minded as most people in this town.

He was planning on telling her anyway, because things had been going so well with Eddie lately and – no, he shouldn't think about that right now. But maybe it would actually be nice to talk about it with Nancy.

'So, um...' His throat feels tight and his hands are sweaty. 'I recently discovered some things about myself. I-' The words get stuck somewhere on the way to his mouth, and he clears his throat.

Nancy doesn't push, but only gives him an encouraging nod, waiting for him to find his voice again.

'I found out I like boys,' he finally manages to confess. 'And I need you to know that – that that doesn't mean that what I felt for you wasn't real. It was. I loved you, and now I fell in love with a boy. And-'

'Steve.' Nancy's hand suddenly covers his, causing him to finally jerk his head away from the view over the quarry, to focus on her face again instead.

Her eyes are wide, and she squeezes his hand.

'You don't have to explain yourself to me,' she tells him. 'We're good. But thank you for telling me. For trusting me with this.'

Steve heaves out a relieved sigh, and Nancy smiles; it's that genuine kind of smile which reveals all kinds of dimples and soft lines across her face.

'We might be more similar than you thought,' she tells him, a faint blush spreading over her cheeks.

'Really?' Her words make his breath catch in his throat. He squints at her, trying to see her in this new light. 'Are you saying what I think you're saying?'

She shrugs. 'I don't know. I'm not sure yet,' she admits. 'Still figuring things out.'

'Take your time, there's no rush,' he tells her. 'But...' He bumps his shoulder against hers. 'When you're done figuring it out, talk to me, okay?'

She nods. 'Okay.'

For a while, it's quiet between the two of them. Some kind of raptor circles high above them in the sky. They both follow it with their eyes until it disappears among the tree tops west of the quarry.

'Is it Eddie?'

Steve blinks dumbly a couple of times.

'Wha- what?'

'The guy you were talking about. The one you fell in love with. It's Eddie, isn't it?'

'Jesus, Wheeler, what kind of sorceress are you?' Steve exclaims.

Nancy laughs again. 'You're not being as subtle as you think,' she tells him. 'The two of you have been hooking up for a while now, haven't you?'

Steve huffs dramatically. 'This is unfair. You know everything; I can't even tell you my own secrets anymore!'

'So what happened?' Nancy asks. 'You said you had a fight with him?'

'It's fucking stupid,' he sighs. 'Dustin was getting way too excited about the fact that I was gonna be hanging out with you, so I told him I was seeing someone. Next thing I knew, he was telling Eddie all about how I was seeing a girl.' He waves his hands around to make annoyed air quotations. 'I wanted to tell Eddie it was a misunderstanding, but Dustin was there, so I couldn't out us just like that, and he looked so betrayed and heartbroken... He didn't wanna listen to me.'

Steve sighs; he still can't manage to forget that look in Eddie's eyes when Dustin delivered the big news. 'I wish I would've talked about what I felt for him earlier. I should've been honest when I had the chance, y'know. But I was afraid he wouldn't wanna label what we had, that he wouldn't feel the same way – and now we're in this whole mess. God, he must hate me right now, Nance.'

To his surprise, Nancy gives him an unexpected slap against his arm.

'Ouch, what the hell was that for?!'

'What are you even doing here with me, Steve? You should've gone after him, tell him how you feel!'

'I tried, obviously, but he didn't wanna listen to me!'

'So make him listen! You're in love with him, he obviously feels the same way about you, and you let him leave to wallow in a broken heart he doesn't even need to have!' She rolls her eyes and slides off the car, adding something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like an exasperated 'Boys!' before she pulls Steve off the car as well. 'C'mon, time to get your ass over to the trailer park. Right. Now,' she says through gritted teeth. And, well, Steve knows better than to argue with a determined - and truthfully quite terrifying - Nancy Wheeler.

Read the last part here Taglist: @withacapitalp @ultimatedreamer104 @irregular-child @jcmadgirl @estrellami-1 @myguiltyartpleasure @hallucinatedjosten @jaybren @thew1ldblueyonder @melodymeddler @alycatavatar @zoeweee @lolawonsstuff @fairy-princette @saramelaniemoon @phirex22 @krazyperson @xxsky-shockxx (I only put people on this list who explicitly asked to be tagged. That's really no problem, I love to do that so dw about asking, but I got a lot of relatively vague reactions to the previous post that i'm not gonna dissect and interpret, bc I don't wanna clog anyone's notes unwanted. So just to be clear: i consider it a huge compliment if anyone asks for a tag but please do it clearly if you do!)

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | thirteen.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing, we catch a lil moment with belle 🙄, crying .. lots of crying, just lots of hurt and heartache, more misunderstandings, we see a bit of parents from both sides - esp san's dynamic with his father, flashback scene with smut: oral (f. receiving), 🤠, praises, lots of sweet kisses and tender moments, some nipple play, soft and slow smut!!

—a/n: fic announcement soon!

If the texts yesterday afternoon weren't nerve-wracking enough, it was the downtime in between the texts and seeing San that had you ready to curl up in a ball out of anxiety; fetal position, rocking back and forth as an attempt to rid the feeling. San hadn't texted much after deciding the two of you should talk the following day, and you never questioned why he couldn't just see you the same night he had told you he needed to talk. 

you: 😞 you didn't even look my way when you walked back into the office and i haven't heard from you all day.

you: i hate how all my papers and presentations are due this week. plus ppl have been weird, idk. i just wanna cuddle 😭

san: i'm sorry. it's just been a day.

you: that's never stopped you before... ☹️ what's wrong, san?

san: we should talk, baby.

you: oh.. okay. so let's talk tonight? i just need to finish up a few things, and i'm halfway done on most of my papers and presentations. i think they can wait a bit.

san: no, you should finish up. i've got a ton of things to catch up on so tonight won't work. can we do this tomorrow? i'll come pick you up once we're both done in the lab.

you: are you sure?

san: mhm. i'm sorry again, it really just has been kinda all over the place today.

you: it's fine, san. as long as you can promise me we're okay?

san: we will be. i'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? try to take breaks and rest well.

You accepted it, even if it felt excruciating and painfully long.

These things never turn out well, and you knew your case wasn't gonna be an exception. You were afraid for it, you were nervous and you were wondering what San might do to try and lessen the blow of whatever was coming.

He wouldn't hurt you, right?

He meant it when he said you two would be okay, right?

Even if he tried to be as reassuring, everything about it felt off and cryptic. None of it felt like sunshine and rainbows, none of it felt like the San you felt in love with. None of it felt like the giddy excitement, the comfort, the safety you had come to know and love. 

You hated automatically assuming the worse, but nothing was preventing you from doing so— not even San.

Today was actually pretty uneventful, nonetheless. Despite the wait and silence from San, you felt like you managed to get by in one piece. It still felt like everyone was looking at you; like they had all known your deepest, darkest secrets. Like they had been following your every move, especially while you were with San. It still felt awful, but you had learned how to push aside because people could talk and assume— but they would never know the true story.

And who knows? Even if you tried to explain yourself, they wouldn't get it.

You didn't really owe that explanation to anyone, you think.

The only other weird part about your day was when you had tried to help Belle earlier since you had some downtime and she brushed you off completely. She had been avoiding you, and it was pretty obvious she was letting the talk get to her head. She didn't maintain eye contact with you, she didn't acknowledge you, and she didn't talk to you the way that she used to.

—FLASHBACK

You walk into the lab, passing by a few of your labmates with a tiny, toothless smile etched on your lips. There was no Sunwoo around, but there was Belle; yet, she still hadn't turned to acknowledge your presence. You had gotten through your to-do list for Sunwoo's project, leaving you with extra time to spare today. You hadn't been able to dedicate a lot of your support to Belle lately due to all those technical issues you needed to troubleshoot for your project with Sunwoo, and you figured this would be a good time to make up for it.

Unless she had other plans.

"Hey Belle!" You come to her desk, pulling the courage from deep down within you to approach her first. She looks up at you, a brow cocked up before returning her attention to her laptop. "I have some time to help—"

"No thanks, I'm good." She doesn't look at you. "Just so you know, I don't really need extra help anymore. I've got everything figured out already."

"Oh, okay." You step away from her desk, fiddling with your fingers while you stand there looking dumb. "Are you sure?" She pauses her typing before finally looking back up at you with her brows knit tightly together. 

"I just said it, didn't I?"

"I-I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure since I had the time and I haven't been able to help you out as much cause of Sunwoo's project."

"Why don't you go and use your extra time with Professor Choi since you've been doing that anyway?" She gives you a look that settles in the pit of your stomach. You don't say anything to her, even as she shuts her laptop close and stands— brushing past you to get to one of the behavior rooms. You feel a bit hurt, and your other labmates aren't even paying attention to the whole thing; or, maybe they are, and they just don't wanna say anything to dig deeper into the wound. 

So, you turn on your heel with your head down, returning to your desk to continue your data analysis in silence.

—END

You try to tell yourself that it doesn't really matter— that you didn't need anyone's reassurance or validation. It hurt despite not being super close to Belle, but you knew she thought of you in a different light now and that wasn't really fair. You could see how it'd look problematic on the surface, but you thought she knew you better than that.

Guess it's also your fault for assuming.

When it's time for San to pick you up at your usual pick-up spot, you grab your keys and head out— still not having changed out of your outfit for the day. You try to take slow steps to not seem too eager, but you can't help it when you see San parked in his usual spot. This time though, he isn't watching for you in the rear view mirror. 

"Hey." You swing the door open and slide in. San gives you a small smile, followed by a:

"Hey." He watches as you dip forward to kiss him on the lips like you always do, and he surprisingly takes it. You were getting ready for the rejection or some kind of pull back; but, to San's own knowledge, he did it because he knew it'd be the last time he could savor it.

"You okay? Were you able to finish everything you needed to?"

"Uh, yeah. Think so." He says with a subtle chuckle before driving off. 

"Are we going to your house?"

"Thought we could sit at the view and talk, if that's okay with you?" You slowly nod, keeping your eyes trained on San as he drives.

"Okay. You're scaring me, Sannie." He shakes his head. 

"Please don't be."

"Then why couldn't we just talk about this like normal at your place?"

"Y/N, you trust me, right?" He quickly looks at you as he comes across a red light. You silently nod, just in time for him to drive off and continue onto the destination. "Okay, so trust me." He's still being so cryptic and distant that you don't even know how to respond. You quietly sit back in your chair and watch the surroundings pass you by, trying to settle the queasiness you feel building in your stomach.

These things never go well, and your case doesn't seem to be a one-off.

San continues to remain silent as he drives the rest of the way to the view, the music softly filling in as background noise that's enough to distract you. When he pulls into the small empty side lot and parks his car, he lets out a sigh and sits back.

"How was your day today?" He asks softly, still avoiding contact with you.

"It was okay, I guess. Better than yesterday."

"That's good."

"San." You adjust your position so you're looking directly at him, body facing him. "What is it that you wanted to talk about?"

"I don't know where to start."

"You have to start somewhere." He sighs again. "You know, whatever it is, you can tell me. We can figure this out together." You raise your hand to cup his cheek, almost somewhat of a gesture to force him to look at you. And for a minute, you feel him relax under your touch. You can tell he wants to turn and kiss the palm of your hand like he usually does, but he doesn't. "Sannie—"

"We should stop this." Your mouth slightly drops even though you don't know what to say. Your eyes widen, your touch turns cold. You retreat your hand while you let the response sink, San still keeping his gaze out of the window because he truly can't dare to look at you right now.

He'll fold.

He'll forget all about this and risk everything for the both of you.

He shouldn't.

"W-what?"

"We need to stop this, Y/N." He finally looks at you and his gaze feels like an icebox. Everything feels so cold and distant, even if it's supposed to be a front; it's working, and it's fucking you up completely.

"All of a sudden? I-I thought we were fine, what happened? What did I do wrong?" He shakes his head.

"Nothing. It's not anything you did, I'm just trying to be realistic here."

"Realistic? I thought you didn't care about the outside noise?"

"We're only prolonging the inevitable, don't you get it? Everything is going to come crashing down on us whether we like it or not. No matter how hard I try to stop it, this is what it'll eventually come to." You don't really understand where he's coming from or what he's getting at, but it's too late— you feel the tears steadily streaming down your cheeks.

Then, you're sobbing into your hands and you feel pathetic. But San feels terrible, he hates this. He doesn't wanna do this but he's conflicted between right and wrong, between being selfish and letting you go. "San, why?"

"Y/N, please hear me out on this, okay?" He's barely able to answer.

"Why? You ask him again. You cry in his passenger's seat, wiping it away with your sweater sleeves. "You said I could trust you, a-and that you wouldn't hurt me because you didn't care about anyone else."

"I need you to understand that I'm doing this because I care about you."

"But, I love you." San shakes his head as tears streak his own cheeks.

"We're being too selfish." He looks at you. "I am. I'm being too selfish and I don't need this to ruin things for you more. I need to put you first—"

"Why do you get to decide what that looks like for me, San?" He doesn't respond. "So, you don't want this?" He lets out a shaky sigh. "Us?"

"That's far from how I feel and you know it."

"Why can't you just say it back? Why can't we just let this be? I don't care—" You tug on his arm and he grips your hand before shaking his head.

"Because this is already hard as it is. Y/N, listen to me." He pleads, cupping your cheeks. He finally looks deep into your eyes, his thumb gently caressing the surface. The life in his eyes are gone. The glow, the stars. Now, his eyes are dull. They're holding back. They don't show you anything. "We should stop. We need to. Namjoon and the dean are discussing your future at the school, and I need you to keep going in this program. I need you to keep going forward even if that means I can't be right there with you every step of the way. You deserve to be here and you deserve to finish this until the very end. You've worked so hard to get here, and I refuse to let them lose out on you simply because of me."

"This makes no sense to me. Why do we have to do this? We can just be more careful and plan better. We can just—"

"I'm trying to protect you." 

"Protect me? From Namjoon and the dean? Or are you trying to protect yourself?"

"I don't give a damn about me, Y/N!" He's a little angrier with this response but you know it isn't directed towards you. It's towards Namjoon. The dean. Yunho and Iseul. This whole fucked up situation. "I'm always gonna put you first. It's always been about you and it'll always be about you." You cry a bit harder at his answer, unsure of what to make of this entire thing. You don't know if San really means this or if he is just trying to protect you. You don't know what to do, you don't know if you should keep trusting him the same way. 

You don't know if you can, and that's probably because you're blinded by all the overwhelming emotions you're feeling right now.

The both of you sit in this thick silence, your cries now filling the space while San tries to muster up the last bit of his energy to try and make you feel better— to get you to understand this better.

It's not that he wants to, he has to.

"I don't—" He swallows thickly. "I don't wanna do this but I have to. You have to understand." He says at a whisper, more tears streaming down his red-stained cheeks. "You have to understand, baby. Please." He begs. "I don't want them to do anything to you and I don't wanna jeopardize your future. Just listen to me. We have to do this." He leans forward to cup your cheeks and wipe your tears away with his thumb.

"No, we don't." You almost whine, but all San can do is shake his head and sit back in his seat.

"I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, but I have to do what's best for you." His voice shakes. "I really am so sorry, sweetheart." He answers lowly, wiping his remaining tears before retreating back into his shell and showing off his cold demeanor for the remainder of his time with you. "I should get you back."

"I should've never trusted you. I should've known this was all too good to be true. You didn't care." You cry, repeating all this nonsense to try and get him to hurt the same way as you somehow. Because he'll never understand. Everything had led up to this and you were still unprepared for this. Even though you knew you'd be here at some point, nothing would have ever prepared you for the way your heart drops to your stomach; the way you feel nothing but thunder and rain.

Blue and grey.

He does, though.

In fact, he's probably hurting the most because he had to pull the trigger and let you go.

He hates it. He fucking hates it. 

He's trying to drown out the rest until he gets you back to your building because he can't take it. He can't take hearing you cry anymore, he can't take hearing you say these awful things because you're angry at the moment. He hopes that you'll see where he's coming from eventually because all he's ever wanted to do was protect you and keep you safe.

All he's ever done was care about you, and you only.

All he's ever felt was love for you, and you only. You showed him what love was like again and he'll never take that for granted.

This was him showing you love. He needed to put you first.

"I care about you more than anything. I'm trying to do what's best—"

"Without involving me? Deciding for me? Yeah." You wipe away at your cheeks once more before unbuckling your seatbelt. "Whatever San, save it." You tell him before swinging the door open and stepping out. "You were just trying to protect me. I get it."

"Baby, don't be like that. Please don't make this harder than it already is. I would never intentionally hurt you. You know this." He tries to reach for your hand, but you move it away.

"You don't get to call me that anymore." You roll your eyes. "Anyway, goodluck, San." Is all you say before slamming his door shut and storming off. You begin to cry to yourself again, feeling sorry for yourself and stupid. You know deep down that San was only trying to do the right thing and that he was trying to protect you. But, right now, you're angry, you're sad, you're upset. You feel empty and betrayed and you just need to feel this out in order to let it pass.

This too shall pass.

When you head upstairs, you quickly pack up a few things, along with your laptop and other school-related necessities before locking up and heading to your car. You feel a migraine coming on, which definitely means you should take it easy and stay behind; but, all you can think about is getting to your mom and being away from school for a few days.

Nothing's better than a mother's love and comfort, even though you aren't entirely sure how she's gonna react to this, how she'll feel about San.

In the end, you don't hate him. 

You can't.

You could never.

—FLASHBACK

"That was a good girl's date, wasn't it? We got massages, our nails done. Now we're eating a banana split under this nice weather." Your mom chuckles. "You need to come home more often."

"I know, I know." You scoop up a good helping of the banana split, internally conflicted on when is a good time to let your mom know about what's been going on. She would probably be surprised and scared for you, but your mom had a good way of choosing her words. She had a good way of being there for you but making her concerns known without pointing fingers or putting any blame on your actions.

"How has school been? Your friends?"

"They've been good. We've all been busy with our labs."

"Jiung's been good? You think you guys are all gonna stay in the labs you're currently rotating in?"

"He's good, yeah. And I think so, they all seem to be enjoying it."

"How about you?" You poke at the banana before scooping another helping. Your mom can already tell there's something else on your mind, but she's gonna let you take the floor and open up about it when you're ready.

Which is now. 

You just don't know if she's ready.

"Uh, yeah. It's been good!" You give her a small smile. "I'm still deciding on my route, but it's been good." Pause. "There's actually something else I've been meaning to tell you."

"Okay, try me!" She chuckles. "What is it?"

"I've been seeing someone."

"Oh?" She laughs. "Well, isn't that great?! I mean, you never needed a man, okay. But, as long as they make you happy and add value to your life. I just want you happy." She laughs. "Who is he, where did you meet? Tell me everything!" You sigh and take a deep breath before starting.

"We met at school. In the lab. Because.. he's my rotation professor." You give her a look, afraid of what she'll say. She stops mid-bite and almost chokes, setting her spoon down before looking at you with knitted brows.

"Your.. what?! Y/N—"

"Mom, please. Just hear me out before you start assuming and saying things. He didn't abuse his power, I didn't throw myself on him, okay? It just happened." You immediately say and look at her with puppy eyes. "We just happened. We grew feelings for each other and just clicked really well. We've been keeping things lowkey."

"But, Y/N. Honey, I say this sincerely. What if people find out? Not that I want them to, but they will." You shrug.

"I don't know, we'll figure it out."

"H-how old is he?"

"32."

"Oh, okay. He's young."

"And handsome." You rest your chin on the palm of your hand and smile. "His name is San. Choi San. He's pretty popular in the bioengineering and neuroscience world."

"That's good." Your mom is slightly shutting down and you know it's because her thoughts are traveling at 100mph and she doesn't know what to think or do.

Or say.

"Mom, I'm sorry. I know you're worried but I'll be fine, okay? I promise. It'll all be fine." You add to break the silence and reach for her hand.

"I just don't want him to hurt you and then you lose everything you've worked so hard for over him."

"I just don't know where this is gonna take us. Things feel too overwhelming. Like.. I just don't want any talk getting into his head about us."

"It could really ruin things for the both of you, Y/N. Please be smart about your actions. Don't throw everything away because of him. That's all I ask. Just by the looks of it, I know he makes you happy and you're riding cloud nine, but you need to remember who comes first— yourself."

"I know. I hear you. I don't mean to cause any unnecessary worry or anything."

"No, you're not. Lovey, I'm your mom, I'm always gonna worry regardless. But, I trust you enough to make the right decisions and to take care of yourself. I know you'll be smart and I know you won't be completely reckless. I'm not gonna lie, this— this isn't a 'conventional' relationship and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet." She sighs and looks at you with a hint of concern in her eyes. "I'm trying hard to see this from your side, not from my side, and I think it'll take me time to get used to. In the end, I just don't want you to get hurt. I don't want people to think bad about you, and I don't want you to lose everything you've worked so hard for."

"I know, but it's all okay. I promise." You promise her, but you don't even know if you believe the promise yourself. "You can trust him." She doesn't say much, and you can tell she's trying her hardest to swallow her true emotions.

"Just becareful."

—END

San picks up the phone to call Namjoon, hands slightly trembling. He's still sitting in his car, still sitting in the same spot because it's his turn to cry and let out all his feelings. He hits the steering wheel before running a hand through his hair, second-guessing all his decisions.

Why did it have to come down to all of this? Did he really have to? How long before he folds and comes back to you?

Before he says fuck this all together and chases after you?

He keeps trying to remind himself that he needs to protect you and let this blow over. He keeps trying to remind himself that it'll all be worth it and you both will find your way back to each other again.

In time.

"San."

"It's over with." Is all he is able to say before Namjoon lets out a small sigh on the other end.

"I'm sorry, San. Look, just give this time—" Quite frankly, he doesn't wanna hear it anymore. Not today, not tomorrow, not for awhile.

"It's fine." He cute him off. "You don't have to say it. Just please make sure nothing happens to her."

"You got my word. I'll figure this out. Don't worry." San ends the call before he's digging his head into his hands and cries.

And cries.

And cries.

Because now his days are going to blend back to the black and white filter he used to have on. He'll never experience that warmth, those colors, without you around.

He'll never witness where the sea meets the sky, when the sun sinks below the horizon. When dawn meets dusk. 

His days will be monotone and dull, lifeless and cold. Gloomy. Days he had prayed to get past and never return to.

But, he's here again.

And somehow, this pain feels worse this time around than the first time.

—FLASHBACK

San sighs when he pulls up to his parents' house, aggressively shifting the gear to park before taking a moment to himself. He wasn't happy when his father left him a voicemail, scolding him for the rumors going around about him dating his student. He was quick to call him names and demand him to make things right before his name could be tainted in the industry. San isn't gonna lie, he's always looked up to his father. Things changed when San started making a name for himself in the academic industry, creating some kind of competitive tension between the two. Well, San never felt that way. His dad strongly did though, for whatever reason.

He never understood it. It's whatever.

What San wasn't having was the fact that his father kept calling you a little girl who only wanted to use him to work her way in and up.

He slams the door to his car, adjusting his hat and his jacket before tapping the code into the keypad on the front door.

"San, is that you?" He hears his mom's sweet voice call out to him. He smiles softly when she comes into view in the hallway, opening her arms for a hug. "Please don't mind your father, you know how he is. He's just concerned." She gives the back of his neck a reassuring massage.

"Mm, yeah. I can feel the concern especially when he starts calling me out my name."

"San." His mom gives him a look before his dad looks up from the paper he's reading on the couch, forehead crinkling when he sees his son walk in.

"Why are you here?"

"Hi to you, too." San says while his mom steps in the middle.

"Honey." She turns to his father.

"So, what was up with that voicemail?" 

"Why don't you tell us what's been going on with you and your so-called girlfriend? Do you even care about yourself or what this could do to your career? You're so careless—"

"So what if I'm careless! You don't even know her so you don't have a right to do that!"

"Are you actually that stupid, San? Do you know how damaging this could be for you, for us?"

"What does this have to do with you?!" San's voice raises. 

"It has everything to do with us! Everyone thinks you either forced that girl into a relationship or she threw herself on you and you stupidly took the bait!"

"Even if I said it wasn't like that, you wouldn't listen anyway!"

"Are you serious about her?"

"What makes you think I'm not? We're two grown adults who are capable of making our own decisions and knew the consequences from the very beginning."

"And you think she'll stay? Someone that young and who is just getting started with her life, basically. You think she'll stay and be there for you when times get rough?"

"Absolutely." His dad scoffs.

"Is that so? Wishful thinking. You couldn't even keep Iseul and now you're downgrading to a st—"

"Hey!" San's mom cuts off his father's statement. "That is enough from you. Don't finish that sentence."

"You have no idea what Iseul put me through!" San's tone is louder to match his father's energy. "I found somebody who genuinely and truly cares about me and who I am. That isn't enough for you? Just because she's a student, but a grown adult at that?! You can't even be happy for a second? You still find a way to be on Iseul's side even though she cheated with my bestfriend!"

"Maybe it's time you realized you pushed Iseul away. That was your own doing. And this girl? Don't come to me and make me tell you 'I told you so' when she leaves after she's gotten everything she needs from you." San's dad is fuming in front of him. "How could you be so sure things will be smooth sailing with her, hm? What makes you think this can work?"

"This is fucking bullshit, I'm not explaining myself to you. If you don't wanna be happy for me and support me, then so be it."

—END

San thinks maybe his dad was right; maybe this wasn't meant to be, and was just supposed to be another fleeting moment, another lesson.

Even though deep down, he knows it's far from it.

As he sits in his home office, he scrolls through old pictures of you and him together— you, pictures you've sent him. He feels the rush of sadness hit him like bricks, his chest almost physically hurting from the ache. He has this sudden urge to text you and call you, tell you how much he misses you.

But, he stops himself.

What if you stopped caring? What if you were so mad at him that you hated him?

He couldn't bear with it.

If only he knew how much you cried and yearned for him every night, if only he knew how much your head hurt while you laid on your mom's lap while she ran her hands through your hair— gently cooing you and shushing you to help you get some sleep.

If only he knew.

"Mom, I'm sorry." You cry and cry, laying your head on her lap as you let everything out. "You were right, I messed everything up. This was all so stupid. I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that." She shushes you and tries to coo you. "Don't ever say that again." She looks at you. "What happened?" You gather the strength to tell her everything that's been going on. How deep your relationship went with San and how well he took care of you. How you weren't always the most careful but the only reason why things blew up was because of Hae-jin, Iseul and Yunho. How Iseul and Yunho just keep trying to get in between, how Jiung even went to Professor Kim about all of this.

How San broke this off claiming he wanted to protect you and put you first.

How utterly sad and betrayed you feel.

"I'm just so tired of feeling this way. I hate how alone I feel. I hate how much I miss him. I hate how this unfolded the way it did."

"I'm so sorry, honey. You need to let things be for now, okay? I know that's not what you wanna hear, but you need to. Especially for school and yourself."

"Why does anyone care? Why does it matter?"

"People have nothing better to do, and I'm sorry it had to be those two and Jiung."

"I'm so tired, mom. When will this pass? What did I do wrong? Why did he leave so quickly?"

"Lovey. You did nothing wrong. It wasn't you at all, and it wasn't San either. The circumstances are just tough. You didn't know it would play out this way and I'm sure he has his reasons."

"What if he's just using that as an excuse? What if he really doesn't want this anymore?"

"If he really cared about you, why would he lie, Y/N? I'm sure he was doing his best to protect you both, especially you. I know it hurts right now, hun. But, maybe this is for the best." You don't wanna hear it even though your mom might be right.

Maybe this is for the best. Maybe this was just telling you this could never work between you two.

No matter how hard you both tried.

San's urge to text or call doesn't lessen as the next few days go by, especially when he notices he hasn't seen any trace of you. He'll usually see you walking towards the biology building for Yunho's class or making your way to the dining hall with the girls.

If San hadn't overheard Sunwoo telling his lab mates that you were sick, he would've gone crazy.

It still doesn't help that you're feeling unwell and he can't do anything about it.

"Sunwoo." San pokes his head out of his door, causing Sunwoo to lift his head from his laptop and shift his attention towards him. "Can you meet really quickly?"

"Yeah, sure thing. Be right over!"

"Thanks." San heads back to his desk and lets out a breath, waiting for Sunwoo to come. It takes him less than 5 minutes to finally make his way into the office, rubbing his hands down his jeans. "Hey." San looks up at him. "Thanks for coming in on short notice."

"No prob! What's up, Professor Choi?"

"I wanted to talk to you really quickly because I wanted you to hear it from me directly. Starting next week, we'll be losing Y/N's support. She'll be heading to Professor Kim's lab."

"O-oh. Okay. Damn." Sunwoo ticks his head to the side. "Professor Kim with the steal." San chuckles a bit.

"Yeah." San can't even hide his sadness when he looks down at the papers beneath his hands that Sunwoo catches on and he feels bad. He still doesn't know the details and he never will, but if it's one thing he can gather right now, it's the fact that the room feels cold and empty.

It's the fact that San literally has to force himself to smile and deliver this news like all is okay and no big deal— when in fact, it fucking is.

Sunwoo feels so bad.

"So, I know she's out sick right now, but will I still get to see her before she goes? I wanna talk to her to wrap things up, too."

"When she returns, we'll make sure she has time to close loose ends with you and gather her things."

"Hm." Sunwoo nods slowly. "Okay."

"I'm sorry this came up so suddenly, but I had to make a few changes around here. We all thought she'd be a better fit with Professor Kim." 

"I see. She's super smart and incredibly great at what she does, I know she'll do well in whatever she does and wherever she goes." San nods.

"Yeah, she will." He sighs. "There's another rotation student that I might bring in next quarter that might be a good fit to work with you, too. His name is Baehyuk."

"Cool. Down to meet whenever the time is right."

"Thanks, Sunwoo."

"No, thank you for always giving me some help and pushing me forward." San gives him a small smile. "Everything will work out."

"Yeah." Is all he could say in response. Because he hopes it will. 

Right now, it seems like a far reach.

All San wants to do is love you, rather than hiding just how deeply in love he was with you.

—FLASHBACK

"Here, baby." He turns to hand you a plate with a smile on his face. "Think you can help me dry the last of these dishes and put 'em up?"

"Course, chef." He chuckles, watching as you tip-toe with nothing but his shirt on to reach over and place the dry dishes into the proper cabinet. You follow suit with the last three dishes, setting the towel aside while San wipes away the water droplets around the sink. "We did it, babe! All clean."

"Sure did." He laughs, caging you in against the counter to kiss you sweetly. "Thank you, baby."

"You're welcome." You giggle. "Thank you for making dinner."

"As long as you enjoyed." You nod.

"What do you wanna do for the rest of the evening?"

"Mm, we can watch a movie and fall asleep here on the couch without any worry."

"That's fun." You smile.

"Or, we can do other things that I have in mind." He brushes the hair away from your face while you wrap your arms around his neck.

"Ooh." You reply in a sing-song tone. "Care to indulge?"

"Absolutely." He says just as he swiftly carries you and wraps your legs around him. You squeal as he walks over to the couch and gently plops you down onto the soft cushions, wasting no time to attach his lips to every inch of skin he can. He slowly hovers over you, hands roaming up your shirt and tugging material along with it as he continues to move upward— exposing your cute pink panties from beneath. He sinks to his knees and pries your legs open after fixing your position to the edge of the couch. "Let me make you feel good, love."

"Yes please, Sannie. Please." You beg, watching as San slides down your panties and tosses them aside. His hands caress your thighs, giving them a good squeeze while laying open-mouth kisses along the surface. You continue to watch him, biting on your lip when he hovers over where you need him at most. He licks a stripe up your folds, causing your head to cock back against the cushion. He begins to gently kiss and suck at your heat— a satisfying, breathy moan leaving your lips as you let San relish being in between your thighs. He laps away at your clit, tonguing down your pussy as if he had been deprived of you for years.

You love/hate how good he is at this. "Babe—" You moan loudly, hips now working on their own terms against his mouth. He subtly nods as he continues to suck and lap away at your heat, tongue keeping you wet and filthy; just the way he likes it. "God, right there—" You whine, hips rolling upward and grinding against his mouth, his tongue. 

You used to be so shy.

Now, you're not afraid to tell him what you want and he fucking loves it. "Oh—San— gonna—" Your statement comes out broken as you continue to work against his mouth, orgasm crashing down like a harsh wave against the shore. You grip his hair, body twitching as San continues to latch on and groan against your pussy; incredibly hard while watching the way your body surrenders all. "Fuck." You whisper, still twitching due to the aftershocks from your first orgasm of the night. 

"That's my girl." He's back to kissing your thighs, hands gently rubbing up and down your leg as a way to soothe you. 

"Need you." You tug him by the shirt to plant a messy kiss against his lips— shirt soon to be discarded on the floor, along with his sweats.

Now you're on his lap, slowly riding his cock just the way he likes it— the couch's throw blanket resting against the small of your back and draped along San's lap.

It's his favorite position after all.

"Mm— just like that, baby." He whispers against your lips as you continue to ride him slowly on the couch. "Just like that." He repeats. "You're my good girl, right? Just mine?" He asks lowly and you nod, letting out a sweet moan as he pinches your nipple and watches your head tilt back in pleasure. "Oh, fuck— just like that." His head rests back against the couch, feeling your walls brush against him and drag against his rock hard cock. "All mine."

"Mm'fuck, Sannie." You keep your head back, intense pleasure bubbling at the pit of your stomach. You take him slowly, deeply; his cock hitting all the right spots every time you do a 'lil tug and pull— hips carefully rolling against him. 

"So fucking sexy." He groans. "God, you're everything." His lips drag against your skin, tongue swirling around your perky nipples as your hands tug on the ends of his soft, black hair. "Everything to me." He whispers as if your skin could hold all of the universe's secrets. The blanket is barely keeping up with your movements. San's hand comes up along the base of your neck, bringing you back down to envelope your lips with his. 

The kiss is full of hunger.

The kiss is slow and steady.

The kiss is messy.

You break the kiss first, body slowly crumbling in his grip when you feel your high approaching quick. You moan loudly, breath ragged as you pant; hips slightly picking up the pace to push yourself further and further until you reach the edge.

"Oh—" San matches your moans. "That's it, sweetheart. Cum for me." He praises you, voice deep— tone sending vibrations all the way down to your core. "Give it to me. Wanna feel you cum all over this dick, angel." Hearing San talk the way he's talking is enough to make your coil snap. He continues to coo you as you come undone on his lap; stuttering in your movements and trembling in his grip. He places his hands on your hips, fingers digging deep into the flesh while he fucks up into you— reaching his high shortly after you with a loud groan and hiss. "Fuck, that was so good, baby." You giggle, forehead against his while his hands gently caress and your back. You leave a tender kiss against his plump lips, and he chases with a few repeated kisses before bringing you down with him on the couch. The both of you lay underneath the throw blanket, now properly covering most of your bodies while San holds you from behind. He has his propped up by an arm while you both watch the show on TV, but San finds his thoughts wandering elsewhere at some point. He begins to look around the house and notices how different it feels since you've been around.

Good different.

A space that used to he so grey, so lifeless; now has remnants of you everywhere.

Your polaroids.

Pictures of you and San in frames.

Your little stuffed animal keychains and rings thrown onto the kitchen island, or the room. Or even his desk in the office.

Your little post-it notes. Your favorite chips and snacks littered around the pantry.

You were there everywhere he turned, and he finds it's one of his biggest blessings.

Especially when you lay here on the couch with him, completely not minding the idea San proposed of just falling asleep on the couch together while sorting through movies.

You agreed so quickly and so happily.

No matter how big or small, most ideas just seemed silly in his last relationship.

But, now he has you— someone who is happy to just be with him and spend time with him. No matter how big or small the idea, the plans.

San loves you.

And he'll never take it for granted.

—END

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom @barbielibra @brown88 @choisansplushie @yunhoswrldddd @hyukssunflower @vickykazuya @lucid-galaxys-world @jaytheatiny @pommelex @thechaotictheoryy @vixensss @santineez @nopension @domfikeluva @in-somnias-world @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @mountiiny @naoristerling @onmymymyway @thecutiepieme @wyrated

[cjlouwho]

An Open Door

In which Eddie leaves, and Tommy stays. bucktommy. rated G. read below or on ao3.

Buck waved as Eddie’s truck turned at the end of the street. He stood in the driveway for a bit, staring at the house. Now empty, ready for an older couple to move into next week.

He thought about all the memories there. The many nights spent playing video games with Christopher, the both of them begging Eddie to let Chris stay up ten more minutes.

The times Buck came to Eddie’s with good news, or bad news. A home he was as comfortable in as his own.

A home he’d never step foot in again.

He sighed, got into his Jeep, took one last look, and drove away.

*****

When he got to his loft, he didn’t think twice before heading for the kitchen. He got out a baking sheet, turned on the oven, and went to the pantry to grab his ingredients.

It’d been a while since he’d done this. He’d stopped around the time Maddie had gotten taken, then most of his spare time was spent helping Eddie sell his place and find one in Texas.

But now he had all the free time in the world, which meant he could bake until he ran completely out of flour- then head to the store for more.

As he began mixing the ingredients together for some shortbread cookies, his mind was in overdrive.

He couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about all the good memories, the way he used to feel, how happy he was every time they made plans, what it was like having him there.

And he thought about how he felt now. How sad, lonely, heartbroken. The way he wished more than anything he could change how it all ended. How he wished the people he loved would learn to stay. How-

Oh.

The oven beeped to alert it was preheated at the exact moment Buck connected the dots.

He knew what he needed to do. What he had to do.

Quickly, he scrubbed his hands, shut off the oven, and grabbed his keys and a Ziploc bag from the freezer.

It was now or never.

*****

Buck knocked on the door, swaying from side to side anxiously as he waited for it to open.

He took a deep breath once the doorknob turned, needing a second to take in the sight in front of him.

Tommy standing there in sweats, a black henley, and his jacket. Hair slightly disheveled, eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the sunlight.

“Ev- Buck, what are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Okay." Tommy moved to the side. "Do you… you wanna come inside?”

“I won’t stay long. I- I’ve had a rough few weeks. It- Actually, it’s been a rough few months.”

“I heard about Maddie,” Tommy said. “I’m glad she’s okay. I would’ve called, but I didn’t think it was my place.”

“It would have been nice,” Buck replied bitterly, “to hear from you.”

Tommy nodded, eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, Buck.”

“That’s not- I’m not here because of that.”

“Okay. So... why are you here?”

“Eddie left today, for Texas.”

“To go visit Chris?”

“To move there. Y- You didn’t hear about that?”

“No,” Tommy answered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I haven’t spoken to Eddie since we broke up. Are you okay?”

“I was baking-” Buck held out the bag in his hand, giving it to Tommy, “here’s some cookies, by the way. Chocolate chip walnut.”

“My favorite.”

“I know. Anyway, I was baking and I realized that, I was sad. I was really, really sad. And angry. I- I felt betrayed, and lonely, and hurt.”

“Eddie was a good friend to you.”

Buck huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “It didn’t have anything to do with Eddie, Tommy.”

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed, a second of confusion washing over him until realization hit. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Eddie’s always gonna be my friend. He- no matter where he is, I’ll be able to call or go visit, and I’m sure he’ll visit here with Christopher. It… It’s you, Tommy. I want you in my life. I- I know I screwed up. I didn’t think everything through, and y- you were right. I was being impulsive.”

“I screwed up too,” Tommy admitted.

Buck nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you did. I wasn’t aware there were rules to figuring out your sexuality and I- I didn’t realize that you went into this thinking I was just passing through-”

“Buck, that’s not-”

“Let me finish.” Buck took a breath, straightening up as Tommy pursed his lips. “I wasn’t using you as a way to test out whether or not I was really into men. You- Tommy, I was all in. It hurt me to think that you never were.”

Tommy waited a moment, then, “Is it okay to talk now?” he asked, voice quiet.

“I’m done.”

“When I asked you out that night, at your place, I had no idea you hadn’t ever been with another man. And when I found out, I decided right then and there that you could set the pace. However slow that pace was, it was on you. I didn’t realize your pace was a hell of a whole lot faster than mine. I didn’t know I’d spend the majority of the next six months out of breath, running to try and catch up-”

“Tommy-”

Tommy held up a hand. “Please, just… let me finish.”

With a little eye roll, Buck held his tongue.

“I’ve never known anyone who,” he paused, choosing his words carefully, “who cares as much as you. I’ve never had anyone care for me or stick around once they really got to know me and that scared me.”

Now it was Buck’s turn to wait a moment before asking, “Is it okay to talk now?”

“I’m done.”

“Love.”

Tommy blinked once. Twice. “Love?”

“You said no one had ever cared for you, but it wasn’t just that,” Buck replied, on a roll now. “It was- is- love. I love you, Tommy. That’s the only way I can explain it, and I should have said it before but I don’t think it even hit me until I was in my second week of trying to make the perfect sourdough bagels. I have never, ever felt the pain I felt when you walked out the door. I’ve never mourned a partner the way I’ve mourned you and I’ve never loved someone the way I love y-”

Suddenly, Tommy’s finger was hooked under Buck’s chin, lifting his head slightly, just enough to press their lips together.

Buck moaned into it and, when Tommy went to back away far too soon, Buck was grabbing onto his jacket and pulling him closer.

Tommy dropped the cookies, bringing his arms around Buck’s back and holding him tight.

“Evan,” Tommy panted as they finally parted for air. “Evan, I-”

“What?” Buck asked, noting the sad look on Tommy’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I dropped your cookies.”

Buck threw his head back with a laugh, grabbing onto Tommy’s face and kissing him again. “There’s plenty more where that came from, I promise.”

Tommy smiled softly, unable to tear his eyes away from Evan’s. “Can you say it again?” he asked.

“I love you, Tommy,” Buck said, no hesitation.

Tommy pulled Buck close, wrapping his arms around him tightly. “I love you too, Evan.”

Buck, feeling lighter and calmer than he’d felt in months, rested his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You want to come in now?”

“I’d love that.”

[ghostlycod]

okay so I just watched nosferatu and lemme know if yall want me to actually write something like this

vampire!ghost x victorian!reader x victorian!soap

MDNI ; NSFW (hints of)

cw: dubcon

vampire!ghost x victorian!soap x reader where reader and soap are newlyweds, once they would have been committed to the church but before taking their vows they found each other and knew they couldn’t bear to spend another moment apart, so they made vows to each other instead. now they are on their honeymoon, traveling the countryside and they come across an old and rundown castle in the mountains. your husband insists you pay a visit to the lord of the castle, and tour what must be a luxurious estate. you insist to your new husband that is a bad idea. you do not know the lord who lives here, his townspeople living below him seem odd as can be and superstitious to a fault, and the aura of the castle forebodes something dark. but your husband, fearless as he is foolish, insists that you two explore.

you traverse up the hillside towards the cliffs that house the castle, despite your protests and the protests of the townspeople below, until you reach the main gate. which promptly slams behind you as soon as you cross the bridge to enter.

the lord who occupies the castle is flighty, only stalking the halls in the evening, and you barely make him out from the shadows which surround him at every moment but from what you can see he is older than you and your new husband, his skin pale and gnarled with old scars and burn marks, his lip twisted by the poorly healed gash spanning across his cheek to his chin. he is grotesque, but you try not to be rude. when he insists you both stay, societal niceties forbid you to refuse. and he is an old-fashioned lord, so you and your husband are banished to separate rooms.

this is where the nightmares begin. a ghoulish form hovering over your own as you sleep, a haunted shadow whose fingers ghost over your flesh, twisted lips mouthing your breasts before too sharp teeth sink in with a sting. his broken form undulating above yours as he drinks from your very heart. you awake at the midnight hour and find yourself cumming on your own fingers. there is no phantom in your room, no demonic shadow, only you and your lonely wet hand. you feel sick.

the dreams disturb you beyond what you can say, and you cannot look your husband in the face over breakfast the next morning. he insists you two stay longer, at least the next several days. his lordship has offered to house you and your husband for longer, he says, and to teach your husband a little of business so that he may learn to support you both. you want to beg, you want to plead, you want to run but you love him deeply and he seems so happy with the opportunity. so, despite your disturbing late night fantasies, you relinquish to your husband. sweet thing, living to please him. it was only a dream, wasn’t it? surely a few more nights cannot do any harm. and then you will leave, and put all of this behind you.

the shadows seem to creep closer to you, suffocating you as they worm their tendrils around you. yes, stay, they say. stay another night. and another. and another after that. you look to your husband, face shining in the firelight, eyes set. he is resolute. you will both stay. you want to scream, but you don’t get a say.

[sosa2imagines]

Let us be there for you...

Warning- Angst, insecurity, introvert, self doubts, fluff. Disclaimer- @mrvl-addict finally got all four parts ready for you fic idea.

You’ve been a part of the Avengers for a few weeks now, and on the outside, you’re everything you’re expected to be confident, outgoing, always ready with a joke, never shy to dive into conversation. You make people laugh, you keep things light, you engage in every mission and meeting with the kind of energy that makes you look like you belong.

On the inside, however, you’re terrified. Terrified of being found out. Terrified of not being good enough. On the inside, you’re the opposite of everything you try to portray.  What the Avengers see, it’s all just a disguise. You put on a mask, a persona to cover up the real you.

You’ve spent your whole life like this. Putting on this persona in order to feel accepted, to feel wanted. To feel like you belong somewhere. You don’t actually know how to truly be yourself. Being yourself got you bullied, being yourself got you hurt. So you’ve learned to rely on masks.

Every moment spent around people leaves you drained. The constant performance of being the ‘fun one’, the ‘social butterfly’, is exhausting. You’d much rather find a quiet corner to recharge, but you don’t want to be seen as weak, or worse, lonely. So, you push through, hoping no one will notice that you’re barely keeping it together.

Except Steve and Bucky do notice.

It’s a typical afternoon in the Tower. Everyone’s just wrapped up training, lounging around in the common area to catch their breath.

Tony’s in the middle of telling some absurd story about his latest tech malfunction on a mission, his voice animated as usual. You’re on the couch, laughing along, making jokes, throwing in a few quips of your own. After all, you don’t want to be left out.

But as you laugh, you feel a familiar weight at the back of your mind. Steve and Bucky are both watching you from the corner of the room. You glance over, and for a moment, it feels like they’re seeing right through you.

Steve turns to Bucky, his voice low, but not low enough that you can’t hear. “She’s been acting like this a lot lately. It’s like she’s trying too hard to stay in the center of things.”

Bucky doesn’t respond immediately, but his eyes narrow slightly, like he’s weighing his words. “Yeah. I don’t know… she’s doing it, but I don’t think she’s really there.”

You can feel your heart rate quicken, and you’re not sure why it stings. You’re just trying to keep up the persona, to keep everyone happy, make it look easy. And yet, somehow, they see right through it. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, trying to brush off their observation with a grin, moving towards them, “What? What are you both talking about? I’m having a blast, really!”

There’s a brief pause. Steve’s expression softens, and it’s almost too much, the way he looks at you, like he’s reading your every thought. He smiles gently, but there’s an undercurrent of concern. “Of course you are,” he says, his voice warm. “But you don’t have to always be on for us, you know? You don’t have to prove anything.”

You blink, taken aback. For a split second, you feel a wave of embarrassment. It’s like they’ve peeled back the layers, and you’re exposed. You try to laugh it off, but your voice is a little quieter. “No, really, I’m fine. I’m just… just trying to keep things light, you know?”

Bucky, sitting across the room, looks at you with a careful expression. “You don’t have to do that with us, doll…” he says, his tone calm and surprisingly gentle. “We’re not gonna judge you for not being on all the time. If you need a break, or if you just want to…  we’re okay with that.”

His words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. It’s not the typical ‘you’re part of the team’ pep talk. It’s something different, something that feels like permission to be yourself, no masks. You feel a rush of gratitude, but also an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. You force a smile, but it’s a little shaky this time.

“I… didn’t mean to put on an act or anything,” you say quickly, suddenly feeling the need to clarify. “I just don’t want to be a drag, you know? I guess I’ve just gotten used to being the one who keeps the mood up.”

Steve’s eyes meet yours, and there’s no judgment there, just understanding. He leans forward slightly, his voice quiet but sincere. “We all have our moments. You don’t always have to be the one holding it together. It’s okay to lean on us.”

Bucky’s nod is almost imperceptible, but you catch it. He doesn’t say anything more, but the look on his face is one of quiet reassurance. He doesn’t expect anything from you, not the way you’ve been expecting from yourself.

You sit back on the couch, feeling a little out of place. For a moment, there’s silence. Then Tony, oblivious to the shift in the room, starts talking again, and you’re grateful for the distraction.

Later that evening, after everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself standing in front of one of the massive windows in the Tower, looking out at the city. The lights are peaceful, calming, and for once, you don’t feel the need to pretend. You’re just… you.

Footsteps sound behind you, and before you can react, Steve’s voice cuts through the quiet. “Hey, you okay?”

You don’t turn around right away, but the warmth in his voice makes your chest tighten. You inhale slowly, then speak softly, your words almost a whisper. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

There’s a pause, and then Steve steps closer. “You don’t have to pretend with us, you know. We’re not gonna expect you to be this... bubbly, confident person all the time.”

You swallow, feeling a flush creep up your neck. It’s embarrassing, this sudden exposure of everything you’ve tried so hard to keep hidden. You turn to face him, and the words catch in your throat for a moment. “I guess… I guess I just don’t know how to be anything else sometimes.”

Steve’s expression softens, his eyes kind. “You don’t have to be anything else. Just be yourself. That’s more than enough for us.”

Bucky’s voice comes from the doorway, quiet but steady. “You’re part of the team. That means we’re here for the quiet moments, too. You don’t have to go through everything on your own.”

You nod, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. There’s a weight in your chest that’s easing, bit by bit. It’s strange to feel like you don’t have to keep up the act anymore. Like, for once, it’s okay to just be.

“Let us be there for you…doll.”

“Thanks,” you say, and this time, you mean it. “I’ll try to remember that.”

There’s a long moment of quiet, and for the first time since joining, you don’t feel like you have to be anyone other than yourself. It’s a small thing, but it feels like a step toward something better.

Part 2-

Taglist- @imyourbratzdoll @blackhawkfanatic @ordelixx @sapphirebarnes @ilovetaquitosmmmm

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[lowkeyrobin]

can u write a tmr newt x gn!reader where they were really close in the glade but slowly started to drift off of their friendship when they were in wckd compartments but got together again during one of the scorch nights(angst to fluffy thingy) tried my best to make it make sense:^)

ooo okay okay I got you ; idk I just had zero ideas for this?? I apologize lmao, I got like the basis of what you wanted, I'm just posting bc I spent way too long making just this 💀

NEWT ; rekindling a friendship in the scorch

summary ; friends to not friends to friends again in the scorch

warnings ; language

word count ; 959

masterlist

You and Newt were inseparable in the Glade. You did nearly everything together, following each other around, finding comfort in one another. It changed once you escaped the maze, however.

Even though you shared a room in your new home inside a lab, it didn't help whatsoever. After that first warm shower, everything between you two just changed.

You were never able to have lunch with your friends, always being pulled away for more and more testing. You'd seen Newt following Thomas around like a lost dog.

Between all the stress and physical deterioration, you didn't have time to talk or share thoughts with him anymore. He seemed to think the same way as you basically ignored each other as the days passed. Everything seemed to be a problem now, even though no words were spoken, only looks, or for that matter, the lack of them.

Upon finding out that WCKD was never gone in the first place, you quickly join the escape with your new friend Aris, crawling around through the vents at dark. The escape was quick and calculated, and nearly ended in death, probably a solid fourteen times. But, your group escaped to the dark, sandy scorch outside.

Bergs fly overhead, lights shining onto the sand in search of you. You all ran through the rough terrain as fast as you could and hid behind a large area of hills, waiting for them to retreat, hoping they wouldn't find you.

Unluckily, you slid down next to Newt, not a glance shared between you two. You instead looked over at Aris and Thomas to your right, making sure they were both in one piece.

The long, painful hike through the scorch continued, Newt behind Thomas and Teresa while you were behind those three, then Minho and Fry. Winston and Aris were behind you, symmetrically separating you and Newt.

The night passes, hours and hours of walking and sweat fatiguing you.

You stumble upon a mall, building up your outfits and learning some more about the Cranks that flooded the scorch. Your fight through the mall was intense and still really God damn awkward as you found yourself helping Newt up off the floor after being tripped, nearly left for dead for the Cranks.

You sprint behind the group, catching up as Thomas leads you to the exit.

Once the adrenaline wore off, it was back to the exhausting trudging through the sand.

You kept your distance with Newt, especially after Winston had fallen ill to the Flare Virus. You'd both known Winston for most of the time you could remember about your lives. The pain after hearing the lonely gunshot in the distance stopped you all in your tracks before continuing some moments later.

The days were far too long for the group of teenagers. Why you were all bundled up in a desert was beyond you, but you'd take listening to the others rather than dying because you didn't cover up. No one knew who was actually immune or not, so it wouldn't be worth it to try and test it out.

You'd taken refuge under some rocks in a little flatland area in the desert once it hit dark. You'd barely spoken in the past few days, malnourished and exhausted. You, Aris, Fry, and Newt are the stragglers left awake, baking cans of beans over the fire while also tending to it, making sure the others got some warmth as they slept.

As the hours passed, Fry and Aris fell asleep, cuddling up in the heavy clothing they found extra warmth in. Who knew a desert would be freezing once the sun had set? Obviously not you, since most of any important memory ever had been wiped, but yknow.

That left you and Newt awake, sitting a few feet away from each other, an awkward silence among you. You tap your fingers on the sand beneath you, then graze them around in little patterns, unable to find yourself tired even if you wanted to. You were exhausted tired, not sleepy tired, sadly.

The blonde surprisingly speaks up.

"Thanks for saving my ass in the mall"

You glance over at him, then look back down at the sand beneath your fingertips. You nod. "Yeah, anytime"

He slowly nods, looking out at the empty miles of sand and dirt surrounding you in all directions. "Is something wrong between us?" He asks, "You haven't been talking to me at all, and you've always got this intimidating look on your face when I look over at you, so I mean, I didn't wanna bother you, ya know?"

You shrug in response. "I mean, it started back at that lab. They were always testing on me and I was just tired, but once we escaped I kinda thought you were trying to ignore me. I dunno, sorry if I read that wrong"

His expression morphs to one of sadness and guilt before wrapping you in a hug, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to ignore you, Y/n"

You lightly smile, wrapping your arms around him. "Sorry for kind of being a bitch about it"

"Look, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. We did kind of escape the maze, then WCKD after being tricked, and we've been running through this bloody desert for days. I don't blame you. If anything, I'll blame Rat-Man for burning you out with testing in that lab. " The dirty blonde smiles, patting your back.

"Oh, thank you, Newt. How could I ever repay you?" You chuckle, pulling away from the hug as he does.

He shrugs, a devious yet smug smirk on his face. "You could repay me in water?"

"My cantine has been empty since this morning!"

"Damnit"

[insomanic-fanfication]

Hey, I really liked your Dick Grayson sfw and nsfw alphabets! When you have the time, can I request either of those for Jason Todd? Thanks 😊

Jason Todd SFW Alphabet

Author's note: Of course! I planned on doing his anyway after finishing some of my drafts. But that's taking a little longer than I thought it would. CW:

Alphabet Under the cut!

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show it?

Jason isn't really affectionate, at least in open places. He's got way too many people wanting his head on a pike. Family and friends know you two are dating; however, if someone on the outside saw you two, they would have no idea. However, when you two are alone, his true colors bleed through. His personality is similar to that of a huge dog that hasn't figured out they can't be a lap dog anymore. Laying his head on your lap while you do your own things. He is reading a book, and you do one of your hobbies. Just decompressing from the day Comfortably in science and enjoying the other's presence. Will 100% fall asleep if you start playing with his hair.

Best Friend: What are they like as best friends? How would you become best friends?

Unless he needed to ask you for something, you would probably have had to make the first move toward friendship. Jason gets very lonely, but trying to meet new people on his own accord is not part of his personality. If he approached you, it would be one of two things; 1. You did something that impressed him, or 2. Dick was pestering him about meeting new people too much, and he caved to make Dick leave him alone.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they?

Jason hesitates to cuddle at first; it's not that he hates it, but more so, he fears it. For the most part, positive physical interaction is a foreign concept in his body. For the first few times he cuddles, he will flinch, and it doesn't matter which one of you enacted it. But once he gets to the point of cuddling, where you two can cuddle, he is relaxed? Your fate is sealed. You've created a monster! Anytime you're not busy in the apartment, it's cuddle time, and no protests are allowed. Will get pouty if you have to get up.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How good are they at cooking and cleaning?

Jason is one of the Batfam members who would settle down in a heartbeat, even if it's just for a year or two. He craves at least some normality. But if he does, no one can protect the ones he loves, at least not well, in his opinion. Unlike his brothers, Jason is an excellent cook and even a chef with his skills. One of his favorite early memories is helping and learning to cook with Alfred. He's also very good at cleaning, partly cause his spaces are the bare-bone things to live in. However, he likes to clean his apartment or space once weekly as a coping mechanism. It's something he feels he is in complete control over. However, if you find him randomly deep-cleaning a room or his apartment. BE AFRAID; he's not okay, no matter how often he tries to tell you he is alright. For him, that is grippy sock stay levels that are not okay.

Ending: If they had to break up? How would they?

Like Dick, if you two broke up and he was the one that broke it off, it was due to him having an episode. But unlike Dick, it would be out of paranoia. Jason would make himself believe that your life will be destroyed. or you'll die because you are dating him. He would most likely ghost you and not actually break up with you. Because the words would pain him too much to say out loud. Only coming to his senses after the episode has passed, realizing his actions, and imminently finding you in person, terrified he fucked up everything between you both.

Fiance: How do they feel about commitment? How long before they pop “the question”?

Jason didn't want marriage for a long while, too terrified that it would make something go wrong. However, the longer the relationship goes on, nothing terrible happens like he expected. The more the thought of marriage would come into his mind. Asking what your thoughts on marriage are one night while cuddling.

Gentle: How gentle are they? Both physically and Emotionally? 

Jason is incredibly gentle with his partners, partly due to his personality and partly because he fears accidentally hurting you. He's a little rough around the edges emotionally, though, mostly because he's not used to being a completely open book to people.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?

Jason hugs like a dad coming home after a long trip. He'll hug your waist and lift you, keeping you in his arms with the biggest smile. He'll kiss your forehead while you feel the warmth of his body around you.

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

Jason would be extremely slow to say the actual' I love you' wording, but he would make up for it in physical affection and words of affirmation. Holding you as close as he can while telling you how much you mean to him and how great of a partner you are to him. So, people may mistake it for love bombing, which added to his other behavior. But it's because it's so hard for him to verbally tell you he loves you. He feels he needs to say it to you in other words, so you know how much his heart bleeds for you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? What would they do?

Jason gets super jealous; he won't control who you talk to or anything like that. He knows you have a life outside your guy's relationship, and it's not his place to manage. But he's protective of you and gets jealous when others flirt with you because, in the back of his mind, it's hard for him to believe someone would date him. So he's worried that you'll find someone more accessible to love, and you'll give up on him. Does it sound balls off the wall crazy? Yes, but mental illness is rarely something that likes to make sense.

Kissing: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to be kissed/ kiss you? 

Jason loves it when you kiss places on him that are generally done on the submissive partner, such as his knuckles, neck, forehead, etc. He finds them so comforting and feels very loved.

Little ones: How are they around kids?

Jason is great around kids unless it's his brothers. Generally speaking, though, he's very good with kids. Sometimes, he understands what's okay for a kid or not. He'll let a toddler he's watching fidget with an unloaded gun if they are very interested in it. But he'll explain to the kid in terms they understand gun safety and how you know a gun is loaded or not. Telling the kid you never treat a gun like it's a toy. It is a 100% safe choice for a kid to go to if they can't find their parent.

Morning: How are they during the mornings?

He's a morning person but a lazy morning person. He'll wake up at 5-6 and do dishes, eat, and do morning stretches, but he will not do any actual work until around noon. God forbid the poor man has a morning shift, no matter what his day job is. He'll be the grumpiest man in the world, but he hides it well from clients/ customers. Some of his coworkers get very confused of this very quick change of mood, but others just see that, and think 'Same brick wall dude, Same'.

Nights: How are they spent with them?

He is a huge Night Owl, wither that be doing the bulk of his work at Night, or having a nice cuddle session with you while having a smoke on the fire escape of the apartment. He is a very light sleeper, or deep sleep with every hour or so waking back up. He also has a lot of night terrors, so he tends to avoid sleep, ESPECIALLY if you are staying over at his place. He has a lot of 'what if i hurt you..' paranoia.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves?

Try to get Jason to open up, is like trying to open a can with no can opener. You may have be in a relationship with him for 5 years, and still not know everything about him. Not because he doesn't trust you not to use that against him. But because he struggles with knowing WHEN to open up about things in a relationship. He wants to make sure your twos relationship is a healthy as it can be, which every now and then dose end up causing problems. Especially when he's having a ptsd episode and you feel helpless within how to help him through it.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

He tries to be a laid back person, tries to be, is the wording there, he doesn't have a hair thin trigger, but sometimes his trauma just gets triggers by something he doesn't even see the connection to, so he's in a pissed off fight response for a bit. He does, however go to anger management therapy to try and help these behavior issues. But somethings slip through the cracks before they can be brought up in therapy. This does not stop him from bragging to his siblings, that he's the only one taking care of his mental health.

Quizzes: They remember everything or nothing about you?

It's like a scale, sometimes he remembers everything, other times he can't remember your favorite hoodie, (it's the one that's been used as a pillowcase for 3 months, because he missed holding you). He can dissociate for a long awhile, but him also bottling up his emotions plays a bigger role in this.

Remember: What is their favorite memory in the relationship?

The first time you fell asleep while cuddling with him. You both were watching cheesy 90s slashers for Halloween night, snuggled in almost a cocoon of blankets and snacks. When he turned to check on why you had been so quiet, you had falling asleep while being snuggled so far into him, that he half expected for you to fuse into his side. The amount of trust you had for him, the emotions he felt was too much and he ended up crying for the first time in years. the tears feeling like they were burning his eyes, but it's still a memory he holds closest to his heart.

Security: How protective are they? How would you protect each other?

No matter what your appearance is, wither that be tall and lanky or short n stout. Jason tends not to need a lot of physical protection, but you are most defiantly the protector of his emotional peace and social battery. Think of it like a Pitbull done with his guarding of the house for the day, so runs to their favorite human to become the biggest cuddle bug on earth. That's Jason Todd, (He's very Resurce dog coded, don't blame me, blame DC). He very much, however, is scary looking guard dog for you. He could kill someone with his death glare sometimes.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, gifts, anniversaries, etc?

Jason puts an extreme amount of effort into your anniversaries, gifts and dates! He's not a social able person, so don't expect fancy Lucious dinner dates at a 5 star restaurant. They make him very uncomfortable, thinking everyone's eyes are on him. But he will make you the most romantic and gushy homemade dinners, your favorite flowers or candy. Cooking Red type pastas with red wine or cooking a Hispanic dish that learned while growing up around crime ally.

Ugly: What are some bad habits of theirs?

He has a bad habit of pushing you away, instead of telling you what's up. For better, or for worse. Sometimes it's because his crime lord days caught up to close to him, and for your safety he pushed you away. Or on the worse side of things, he's terrified you'll look at him as a monster or not understand where he's coming from with his trauma and his poor mental health, so he tries to keep them from you as long as possible, until he has no choice to tell you, or lose the relationship he has built with you.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

Honestly, Yes and no, like he cares about his looks more than a person would think, but like.. slightly more. He's not gonna shower every single day on the dot and shave his pubic hair into a sharp clean design. But he absolutely cares about keeping up good hygiene. Though he does have issues with cleaning his teeth, nothings rotting in there, but he is brushing his teeth waaay less than he really should be.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

No, unless you two date each other until your 4 years into retirement and you die of old age. He will be able to feel the same before you to started dating, because he feels incomplete on a regular basis. Like he isn't able to do enough, BE a enough for anyone to see him how he is as a person now.

Xtra: Random headcanon for them?

Jason use to smoke weed, especially in his teen years, regularly. But now he smokes cigs, problary Marlboro's or Lucky Strikes maybe Camels , and eats edibles every now and then to help with muscle pain and mood swings. (he still hasn't figure out if meds are worth not being able to have a beer whenever he wants.)

He knows he has PTSD, maybe C-PTSD, however he's not quite sure or not that he has BPD or a similar disorder, he's mainly just not internally ready to know the answer to that part of himself just yet. He's barely processed his feelings towards his Mother, so he's not there yet in his healing journey.

Yuck: What are some things they don’t like, in general, or in a partner?

if you have bad few of poor people or think poor people are only poor because they chose to be. Than I'm sorry, but Jason is more likely to pop a bullet in your head than he is to see you in a good light, let alone a romantic one.

Zzz: What is their sleeping habit?

Either waking up every 1 to 2 hours, or only sleeping 30mins to 3 hours and then staying up for the rest of the night or start cleaning or smoking a cig outside.

[pamsimmer]

LUNAR PHASES CHALLENGE

My very first challenge and I'm excited? haha

When I was looking for occults challenge to play I found a lot of witches and vampire type of things, but I don't quite remember seeing a werewolf one.

These three occults are my favorites (unfortunately I kind of ignore the others because you know... meh, not as fun to play with them. But maybe one day I'll try to make a mermaid challenge)

Down here you're gonna find the rules and guidelines for each gen. You don't have to follow strictly the rules if you don't want to, I know it can be annoying sometimes. And also I made it short for those who prefer shorter challenges (like me).

I just hope you have fun!

[edit: a friend made the graphic rules and it looks amazing. if you prefer it like this: HERE]

Rules:

You must reside only in the occults’s worlds, but preferably in Moonwood Mill (You can always kick your family out and pretend you’re living in another place hehe)

Start as YA, any gender

You can use cheats if you want.

Heir must be a werewolf

Normal or Long Lifespan

You don’t have to max all these skills, but it would be nice if you at least worked on them all your sims lives

When I put ( / ) is because you can choose what you prefer or if you don’t have said pack you can choose the base game one.

Requirements: Werewolves, Snowy Scape, Get Together, Get To Work

GENERATION 1: Waxing Crescent

You grew up close to the Moonwood Collective, they are basically your family and you learned how to be a good sim and not hurt others. You prefer to lock yourself up than to behave like an animal in front of others. You always loved art/writing and your hobby is to play piano. You don’t like the spotlight because of your werewolf tendencies, so you chose a more “reclusive” career.

Traits: Proper/Snob, Bookworm, Good

Aspiration: The Emissary of the Collective

Skills: Charisma, Piano/Painting, Writing

Career: Painter or Writer (It can be the freelance career if you prefer)

Volunteer with family (or alone) at least once a week

Your partner can be any gender, can be human or even another type of occult, as long as the heir is a werewof.

Get married to your partner and never divorce. You two were made for each other

GENERATION 2: Waning Gibbous

Your parents wanted you to be as perfect as they are, but you’re not them. You have your own personality and your own desires. You’re a rebel. You love being a werewolf and you feel powerful when you show others who you are. The only thing you got from your parent was the love for music, but you are more of a guitar type of sim. And you want to be the leader of your own pack.

Traits: Mean, Active, Kleptomaniac

Aspiration: Wildfang Renegade

Skills: Mischief, Fitness, Guitar

Career: Criminal or perform only odd jobs and have a part time job

Meet your friends at the bar every weekend

Have a “fight club” club

Get pregnant/get your girlfriend pregnant as a teen (if your sim is a boy: don’t assume the responsability / if your sim is a girl: give the baby to someone else. you can keep the child close to you if you want to play with them later, in case it’s a werewolf)

Get married as a Young Adult and divorce before become an Adult. You can find love again, but if you don’t, that’s okay. (preferably die alone :)

One day your sims is gonna teach their teen kid (the heir) how to fight. You’re take them to Greg and let them fight Greg… alone.

GENERATION 3: Full Moon

You never got along with your parent. You actually hate them. You prefer to be alone, you’re like a hurt puppy that attacks others who tries to come closer to you. But you’re very sweet on the inside. And finally one day you find the love of your life and you have a beautiful family together.

Traits: Loner, Gloomy, Hot-Headed

Aspiration: Lone Wolf

Skills: Gardening, Handiness, Fishing

Career: Gardner or Fisherman (and perform odd jobs)

If you chose gardner: go fishing every weekend, if you chose fisherman: have a garden

Live off the grid, at least until you get married (after that you can go back to society again if you want to. But it’s not mandatory)

Have at least two kids

GENERATION 4: New Moon

You grew up in a loving family. You have so many plans for your life, but you don’t want to be a werewolf forever. You spent your teenager years reading werewolf books and you got the Lunar Epiphany and learned how to make the cure. Maybe you’re the one who breaks the family’s curse, right? and you want to be a super parent because your own parent inspired you.

Traits: Genius, Family-Oriented, Loyal

Aspiration: Cure Seeker

Skills: Logic, Parenting, Baking/Gourmet Cooking

Career: Doctor/Astrounaut

Find love when you are already a human and be the best parent you can be!

Go out on dates at least once a week with your partner, and when you have a child go out at least once a week with your family.

[tangyangie]

𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗇𝗌—! 🖇

𖡼𖤣𖥧𓋼 with. keiji akaashi 𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

LESSON #0 — CONVINCING ꩜

part of him wants to refuse outright. what do you mean you want his help? you want to learn how to kiss other guys? it's bad enough that he likes you, and now you're going to rub it in by giving him a taste of what he can't have. but, when you look up at him with those eyes—those beautiful, pleading eyes—he can't find it in him to say no. this is a common occurrence. you've gotten him to do your laundry on numerous occasions. this is also how you got your dorm pet(s).

"i said, no."

"but, keiji, please? she's so cute, isn't she?"

"we already have one!"

"yeah, but he's lonely!"

"i'm not cleaning after them, though."

you're going to kill him. you're actually going to be his 'cause of death. sure, you might think it's normal; it's only kissing your best friend as practice for another guy. but, to him, it's way more than that. you're like a cigarette—he wants to try you, so bad, but he knows that once he does, he won't ever be able to go back.

"it's not my problem if you like someone. look up a tutorial on youtube if you're so curious," keiji hums, purposely avoiding eye contact—he's just so interested in this show.

"i have! all they say is 'once you get into it, you'll instantly know how to do it'. i mean, it's the dumbest thing i've ever heard. i didn't look up a step-by-step to skip from looking at them to after the kiss."

he simply shrugs. "they're right, you know. it just clicks when you get comfortable."

"well, i'm not going to be comfortable if i don't know what i'm doing, and i'm scared i'm gonna mess up and embarrass myself in front of him!"

"...ask someone else."

"keiji, no, please! you're my best friend, no one else will get it if i ask! they're just gonna think i'm weird!" you plead, kneeling down and hugging his leg as a last resort.

"what are you—"

"please, keiji?" you interrupt, not wanting your plans derailed.

"i..." he sighs, running his fingers through his hair before begrudgingly agreeing. "fine, okay."

with an excited squeal, you stand up and intertwine your fingers with his. "thank you! what's first?"

"wh—now?!"

LESSON #1 — EYES 🦢

he loves your eyes. he thinks that they're absolutely gorgeous. with or without makeup to enhance your eyelashes, each wisp of color within your iris is a pathway that he wishes he could explore, simply by staring into your eyes for hours. he's a complete moth to the flame, because he swears that if he looks too long, he'll fall in.

"hey, keiji—is there something on my face?"

"what makes you think that?"

"...well, you've been staring at me for a good minute. is it paint, or something?l

"...okay, first things first—do not open your eyes unless you're ready to pull away. no one wants to see that right now, for one, and it just makes a kiss seem... not real. like you're not into it," he explains, pausing his show and turning to sit sideways on the couch. he lifts his glasses off from his nose and sets them on the coffee table.

"is that why you take your glasses off?" you ask, tilting your head curiously. "is it to prevent you from looking, or something?"

"um, no. i just don't like the idea of them fogging up," he says, thinking about what else to elaborate on. "closing your eyes is just because it'd be really awkward if you both stared at each other in the eyes."

"okay, i get it, i think. when do i start closing my eyes?"

"whenever you start feeling awkward. or, probably better for you—because you're so inexperienced—is to just mirror him."

"oh, yeah, i'm sooo inexperienced," you scoff, leaning back.

"you asked for my opinion."

"fair enough. what next?"

LESSON #2 — HANDS 𓇼

to him, hands are the most useful part of the body. it controls everything—volleyball, writing, hobbies... even eating, though you can technically do it otherwise. it's just messy that way. one thing he does take pride in, though, is how his look. it's mostly your fault—you compliment them all the time.

"keiji, your hands are so pretty. you've got such nice nails, too."

"um... thank you? i think?"

"what do you mean, you think? you should let me paint them."

"try not to do too much with your hands. it'll just be distracting you or him from the kiss."

he'd almost wanted to intentionally give you bad advice. maybe, that'd keep you to himself. but, unfortunately for him, he's smarter than that. he knows you'd be hurt, and he knows very well that it probably wouldn't work in the first place, and that whoever you'd wanted to kiss would just laugh adoringly at your inexperience. he knows he would.

"where do i put them?"

"honestly, it can be almost anywhere you want."

"in between your toes?"

"...i don't want to know what's going on in your head. try to keep them on the upper body, at least." keiji says, rubbing his forehead with two fingers.

"come a little closer," he motions.

you crawl across a few cushions before plopping down in front of him.

"now, try and find the most comfortable spot for your hands so that you're not deciding in the middle of a kiss."

panic visibly sets within you, and you hover your hands in a multitude of places, when keiji gently holds your wrists as a request for you to stop.

"hey, calm down—here, i'll guide you. shoulders first," he hums, bringing your hands to rest on his shoulders, allowing you to get a feel for it. "next..." cupping his face, resting on his chest, arms around his neck... before you reached having your fingers tangle in his hair.

"oh, this is nice," you say, immediately settling as you gently scratch his scalp with your nails.

"yeah? here?" he asks, trying not to focus on the pleasurable sensation that would lull him to sleep if it were under any other circumstances.

you nod, playing with his curls. "definitely."

he barely notices the soft smile that slips onto his features, simply watching the glint of fascination in your eyes. "now, i'm gonna put my hands here, okay?" he whispers, trailing his hands down to gently grab your waist. "is this okay?"

you nod, still mesmerized by his hair.

"moving on..."

LESSON #3 — LIPS ଳ

you talk way too much, in his opinion. not as much as bokuto, but a lot. to be fair, everyone talks a lot compared to his normal days. even though he may complain in his mind, he knows in his heart he doesn't care at all. he loves watching your lips move, memorizing how each individual letter looks on your lips. sometimes, he'll try to guess what you're listening to based on how well he can read your mouthing now.

"...are you listening to beabadoobee?"

"you listen to bea??"

"yoshimi, forest, magdalene?"

"wh—how'd you know? are you psychic?"

now comes the part he's almost dreading most—not that he could ever want to avoid your lips. he's just nervous. he takes a deep breath, starting his explanation.

"when you're kissing someone, don't tense up. you need to completely relax. no one wants to kiss a rock."

"weird metaphor, but i get it."

"you slightly part your lips. just a little bit."

"how much is a little bit?"

"guess."

you slightly drop your bottom lip, and it's almost perfect. keiji lifts his hand to your chin, just barely pushing your jaw up with his finger.

"do you want chapstick?" you ask.

"are you trying to tell me that my lips look dry?" he raises an eyebrow.

"no! your lips look nice. i'm just saying, i've heard it helps." you defend, getting the chapstick out and applying a quick layer.

"sure," he sighs, leaning a little closer and allowing you to drag the chapstick on his lips for what seems like forever (it was two seconds. he was just focused on you instead).

"ready to focus?" he asks, watching you apply yet another layer. it felt like you were teasing him.

"yep," you smile, re-parting your lips. "like this, right?"

he nods, beginning his next explanation. "don't do that when you kiss people. if you start talking in the middle of a kiss, make it relate to the experience, at least. if you start talking about the weather, you're getting kicked out."

you offer a sheepish grin. be continues.

"anyway, when most people kiss, they tend to lean their heads to the right, but it really depends on the person. i go right, which means you should also go right. with me, at least."

"how do you know that? just how many people have you kissed?" you tease.

he purses his lips. "two."

"was one boku—"

"doesn't matter."

you stifle your giggle, waiting for keiji's next words.

"kissing isn't as difficult as you think. it really does just come to you."

"oh, plea—"

"i'm not done. i'll do my best to help you, but when you kiss someone, you're not really paying attention to that. it just kind of happens."

you nod and stay quiet as he thinks for a moment. "i tend to put whoever's bottom lip i'm kissing in between mine."

"should i try and do the same thing?"

"no. n—not with me, at least."

"m'kay."

"and after a few kisses like that, you just keep going until it gets more intense."

"speaking of which..."

LESSON #4 — TONGUE 🌊

he doesn't have much to say about this. you use it lots? ice cream, popsicles, cleaning off butter knives—he could go on. you made him try the cherry-stem test once, though. he passed, obviously—that was definitely the main reason you asked for his help specifically.

"i don't get it. what's the point?"

"apparently, if you can tie a knot, you're a good kisser."

"hm. let's see if it checks out."

"what're you expecting? you look like the only thing you've kissed is your pillow."

"do i really have to explain this?" keiji sighs, burying his head in his hands for a moment.

"yes, come on! i need this one the most. what do i do with my tongue?"

"it's going to be so weird to talk about. and it's gonna sound so odd. i'm warning you."

"i understand the risks and i read all the terms and conditions. give me the goods. services? i dunno."

"definitely do not start off with it. if you shove your tongue into his mouth, he's gonna shove you away from him."

"understood."

"honestly, don't do anything about it. let him slip it in and take control of it. you lightly suck on it, i guess."

"ew, you're right. i don't wanna hear about this."

"i told you," he responds, leaning back and resting his head above the armrest, his hands acting as a pillow under him.

"do you really shove your tongue down their throat?"

"god, no."

LESSON #5 — PUTTING IT ALL TOGETHER 𓆝

he knew it was coming. he knows you too well to think it'd be as easy as telling you what to do. unfortunately, he plays an incredibly well-developed game of denial. again—you've done this on multiple occasions. half of your essays are written by him. half of the recipes you've learned? him.

"thanks for teaching me how to make this! it's really good. i should get more recipes from you."

"i'm starting to doubt you actually listened."

"of course, i did!"

"then why did i end up making the whole thing?"

"i cut up the vegetables."

"after complaining that the onions were making you cry, so you couldn't cut the others."

"okay, then... i think that's it, right?" you hum, leaning forward and climbing onto his lap. "that's all the information itself?"

your action causes a sharp intake of breath from him, who does his best to hide it. he props himself up onto his elbows to get a better look at you. you look really, really pretty from this angle.

"i—what are you doing?" he stammers, his cheeks turning a pinkish color. in his mind, he blames it on the tv's screensaver. it's on green right now; so, what?

"is this not how people kiss?" you ask, tilting your head to the side.

"it is, but..." he averts his eyes.

"keiji," you whine, leaning down closer until you're laying on top of him. "i need the practice."

the way you say his name nearly makes him choke, but he covers it up. he's really going to try not to mess it up for you, even though it may benefit his (one-sided) rival.

"okay, fine," keiji sighs, sitting up again. he doesn't dare say anything more lest he seem too eager.

your eyes flit to his lips, barely breaking your shared gaze for less than a second. for this moment, you take in his current aesthetic. flushed, messy-haired, (how you wish he hadn't taken his glasses off so that they could be slightly askew), heavily breathing, shirt ridden up just enough for you to see his stomach... you could find so many little things like this to name.

and, finally, taking in what you've learned, you lean in just a little closer. tilting your head to the right, slightly parting your lips, and itching to tell him just how pretty he is. but, he said no unnecessary talking.

he mirrors your actions, feeling his heart beat so fast that he's genuinely scared he may have a heart attack.

when your lips touch, it's not like the movies. you don't picture a firework exploding in between you, and there's no dramatic music.

there is, however, the most polite man you've ever met on the other side. he's so gentle, kissing you slowly so that you don't get overwhelmed. you didn't even notice how his hands had gotten to cup your face, but everything about the interaction is soft.

it's almost like he thinks you're delicate.

you're both a mess of heavy breathing, your lips sloppily moving against his. and he was right—he does think that your inexperience is cute.

his lips move over yours, the soft texture you'd expect from no man but keiji as ever so gently nips your bottom lip.

your hands crawl up his nape to settle on the roots of his hair, tangling your fingers in the familiar curls as refuge from the unfamiliar feeling of the kiss. he lets a quiet sigh into your mouth, the vibration of the sound waves against your lips causing you to nearly melt.

noticing his hands move from your face to your neck, you take the moment to be just a little cheeky.

"i thought you said not to move your hands much, keiji," you teasingly whisper in between breaths.

he simply scoffs against your mouth. "actually, i said no talking," he murmurs, becoming less and less conscious of what he's doing.

the more your fingers massage his head, the more he wishes you were his. he hasn't kissed anyone like this before—it's simultaneously nothing special yet the most amazing thing he's ever experienced.

his hands slide down your body to rest at your waist, feeling your breath hitch the slightest bit. mumbling an apology he doesn't really mean, he leans forward a bit more to tilt your head back. only then, does it dawn on him.

LESSON #6 — ESCALATION 🦈ྀི

he didn't think it'd get this far. he really didn't. he should've known better than to assume he had the self control for this. looking back on it now, he really did care for you too much. the time he spent with you felt romantic—like an old married couple that always argues yet never harbors the negative emotions. but, alas, you weren't his to care for... or, so it seemed.

"you really should be more careful. you're going to get seriously injured if you keep this up."

"no, i won't, 'kaashi; you don't know anything."

"do you know how many band-aids i've gone through in the past ten minutes?"

"...shut it."

"we should stop," he whispers, barely audible. he doesn't pull away, though.

"why? you want to?" you frown against his lips, brushing the corner of his mouth to place another kiss there. maybe, he just needs some convincing... if this is about what you think it's about.

your hands trail from his neck to his abdomen, your fingers tugging on hem of his shirt. you lean forward and cradle his head until he hits the armrest, and you realize he's much more susceptible now. good morals—he feels guilty about kissing you.

fortunately for him, you don't actually like someone else. dragging the fabric of his shirt up his stomach, you deepen the kiss as a form of distraction. it was a feeble attempt; he noticed right away.

"wait, wait," he breathes, pulling back for a moment. he can't seem to find his words when you look at him like that, your gaze all sparkly and enticing. "i thought you had your eyes on someone. why are you—?!"

"it was an excuse. i just wanted to kiss you," diving back in without giving him a chance to respond to the shock you've just supplied him.

you open a singular eye, noticing how his are wide open. "what happened to closing your eyes?" the giggle that travels through you isn't enough to soothe him. he needs to hear it directly.

his hands lift to your face, gently pushing your head back with his fingers tangled down to your scalp as he shares your stare. "y—you mean it? you actually want to kiss me?"

"was the fact i've been trying to get you to make out with me for the past 20 minutes not proof enough?"

he shakes his head. "you said that you wanted lessons!"

"so that i could kiss you! you're too smart for this, keiji," you laugh, brushing his dark strands of hair out of his face.

he groans, rubbing his eyes. "god, you're..."

"a genius? yeah, i know." you teasingly raise your eyebrows, as you reach over for his glasses.

the confusion evident on his face, his eyes follow your hand. "i was gonna say crazy," he mumbles, watching you place the glasses on his nose.

"but you've gotta admit," you grin, leaning closer again, "i was able to get this far without you suspecting anything. i'm at least a little smart, right?" he flinches when you tilt his glasses to the side.

"what's that for?" he asks, avoiding the question.

you kiss his nose before moving to his jawline. "keep your glasses on next time we kiss. it's so hot when they're crooked.

he gulps. "next time?"

"mhm," you sigh, connecting your lips to his.

notes. this is probably university au 'cause i didn't have a specific time in mind but too old to be high school too young to have a working job... you get the point

also... can you tell i've never actually kissed anyone ha ha so silly (i'm going to cry)

edit: me forgetting to put tags