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underdark-dreams · 2 months

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This fic will explore the fanon of Tiefling rut/heat cycles: specifically, what happens when a stressed, overworked, sexually pent-up wizard is confronted with his own biology and his feelings about a certain hero all at once?

Thank you @rolansrighthorn for kindly beta reading this chapter!

Rolan x afab!Tav

Birds and Bees - Ch.1

The new Master of Ramazith's Tower hasn't been feeling well. Rolan isn't quite sure what's wrong with himself, but when Tav arrives back in Baldur's Gate, things get much worse.

Tags: Tiefling Ruts, Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining | Word Count: 3.4k [Read on AO3]

Rolan awoke feeling sick as a dog.

He pulled his legs over the edge of the mattress with a wince. The dull ache in his muscles was something he hadn't felt since those first weeks on the road out of Elturel.

He'd slept like hells the past few days; no doubt that was the cause. Once again, bizarre nightmares had left him gasping awake before dawn, covered in a clammy sheen of perspiration.

The dreams featuring Tav, however…

Rolan’s tail shuddered and flicked over the bedsheets behind him at the memory. He pushed those thoughts forcefully from his head. Tav was due back in Baldur’s Gate today—that was the last thing he should be thinking of when she arrived at Sorcerous Sundries.

She’d been away for over a week this time, gathering her materials in the Underdark. He wondered if that meant she'd have enough work to keep her in the city for longer, too. The thought encouraged him enough to rise and dress for the day. He should make sure her alchemy station was prepped and ready for her at the back of the shop, at least.

Down on the main floor of Sorcerous Sundries, Rolan’s improved mood was instantly tested. Cal took in his face wide-eyed.

“You look awful.”

“And good morning to you,” Rolan responded irritably.

“Is it?” Cal trailed after him as he unlocked and threw open the wide front doors. “Rolan, maybe you need a day off. You look like you barely slept.”

“I'm fine,” Rolan said, voice firm. “Where’s Lia?”

Right as the words left him, a teacup appeared at his elbow.

“Had a feeling you might need it,” Lia told him. “Looks like I was right.”

Too tired to combat both his siblings at once this early in the day, Rolan accepted the tea with a begrudging sigh of thanks. The smell of bitter herbs hit his nose before he took the first sip.

“Doctoring me with folk remedies now?”

Lia waved a dismissive hand as she moved behind the counter. “Yeah, yeah, we all know you'd rather get fussed over by Tav. Can't have you dragging your tail and embarrassing us in front of her, though.”

Cal walked off with a snort.

Rolan shut his eyes and wished he could return straight back to bed. Instead, he drank his tea down in silence and said a prayer for an easy day of work.

He did find himself perking up after a while. It was difficult to stay sullen on such a glorious spring day; clear sunlight streamed generously through the high windows above, and the flow of customers milling into the shop settled into a pleasant, familiar hum. Rolan fell into the rhythm of assisting them here and there, locating scrolls and giving advice on spellwork.

It certainly wasn’t the prospect of seeing Tav again that was improving his mood so much. That’s what Rolan kept telling himself, at least.

Another breeze drifted in through the open atrium behind him, bringing with it the fresh scent of spring wildflowers. Rolan was taken with a sudden fancy to move closer to wherever it emanated from.

“Lovely morning, isn't it?”

Tav stood beaming at him from the doorway, despite the full-to-bursting pack slung over one of her shoulders. Clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the irresistibly nice weather.

“It rather is,” Rolan agreed. Ignoring her usual protests, he unshouldered the bag from her with a tug; its weight made him question whether she’d stuffed it entirely with minerals.

“Ugh…thanks.” Tav stretched her arms back appreciatively. She was wearing a lightweight tunic, carelessly laced, and the motion strained the fabric over her chest.

Rolan averted his gaze, feeling rather warm all of a sudden. He instead led Tav back to her workstation near the stairs.

“Looks busy in here,” she remarked with approval. “Business good?”

“Can’t complain. I take it your travels were as successful?” He punctuated the comment by landing her pack on the desk with a heavy thump. Tav laughed.

“Brilliant, actually. I've got a lot to show you, if you can spare the time.”

“Just give me a few minutes,” he answered, turning back to her.

Tav didn’t reply right away; she was frowning at his face. “Rolan, are you ill? You look flushed—” And she reached a hand as if to feel his forehead.

“Of course not,” Rolan answered, a bit too swiftly. Casting for an excuse to create some distance, he moved to the nearby reference shelves and began shoving the mess of books back into their correct cubbies. “Cal, could you grab another stack of the beginner’s Weave series? We’ve sold through.”

Cal looked up from his work rolling scroll pages. “Er, sure…which wing is that again?”

“Nevermind,” Rolan sighed. “I’ll get them myself. Let me know if your station’s missing any supplies,” he added to Tav, letting his voice soften a bit. It earned him a dimpling smile.

Rolan strode away from her toward the portal, feeling that annoying ache in his legs return as he did.

—

Tav watched Rolan’s figure trudge up the staircase with another twinge of concern. Then she set to work connecting all the equipment on her alchemy station. Lia appeared at her side before long, asking after her week’s travels in the Underdark and catching her up on news and gossip from the Gate. It was so nice to have friends like Lia; ones you could pick up right where you left off with.

Tav had emptied her bag onto her desk and begun sorting the small mountain of herbs into separate piles as she listened. “How’s Rolan been doing with everything, really?”

Lia was turning over one of her shards of laculite, idly catching the sunlight in its facets. “Mostly happy. And stressed, and overextended. And completely neurotic about organizing every shelf in the library. You know, typical wizard stuff.”

“I just hope he’s looking after himself,” she said down to her work. The words left her mouth easier than she wished.

Lia leaned a hip against her desk with arms crossed. “You sound interested in helping with that.”

The quake in Tav’s stomach made her feel very caught out, then very stupid. She let out an exhale of laughter instead.

“Rolan’s made it pretty clear that he is not,” she replied. Her fingers began stripping the blooms from her pile of dried mugwort with more force than strictly necessary.

“Between you and me,” Lia mused, “I don’t think Rolan’s anywhere near clear on that subject. Smart people can be real idiots, you know.”

“Who can?”

Rolan was headed from the staircase with an armful of books; he stood behind Lia with a suspicious look. Tav immediately wondered how much he’d heard.

“Rich people,” Lia answered at once, still leaning casually against Tav’s desk. “Lady Whitburn’s handmaid keeps coming in asking for spell scrolls that I’m pretty sure don’t exist. You think she’d get the picture by now.”

Rolan let out a long-suffering sigh and held out the stack of volumes to her. “Take these. And just send Cal to help her next time, that’s why she keeps coming back.”

Lia threw up a hand as if that only proved her point. “Like I said, idiots.” But with one last glance at Tav, she grabbed the books and ferried them away to the front of Sorcerous Sundries.

For her part, Tav resumed the work of preparing the week’s ingredients—there were several large batches of antidote to get through this morning. Rolan took up his usual spot at the desk in her periphery.

Ever since the first week he’d offered Sorcerous Sundries to her as a home of operations for her alchemy, Tav found herself spending many hours at work beside Rolan like this. They spent the time talking about her travels, or his latest studies with the Weave, or just discussing the last books they’d read. On busier days, he was called away to help customers for most of her visit.

Today, however, Rolan stood unusually silent next to her.

“Sure you’re feeling all right?” She glanced at his back, again noting the tense line of his shoulders.

“Just a bit tired.” Rolan tipped open his massive record of the shop figures. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I could make you something for that, if you like.”

He gave a low huff of laughter as he took up his quill. “From what I hear from my customers, I’d be out cold for days.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help a grin of professional pride, but focused on adjusting the flame under her distilling glass. “Glad they’re selling well.”

“I can barely keep them on the shelves, especially those remedial draughts you make. The last batch lasted three days.”

Though it was satisfying to hear, Tav felt a bit chagrined. “Damn…won’t have more of those for a while. I still need to track down a new materials trader in the Gate. My usual guy moved on to Neverwinter.”

There was a short pause in their little corner, filled only with the sounds of softly bubbling liquid against glass.

“You know,” Rolan said without turning, “you’re welcome to stay here, if it’s easier for you. The guest room’s always empty. That is, so you wouldn’t have to travel across the city on top of finding your new contact.”

“Oh—” Tav tried hard not to read anything into his offer. “Actually, I already left my things with Danis and Bex. But thank you, Rolan,” she added.

Rolan coughed lightly, back still turned. “Of course.”

There was another pause, longer and strangely awkward. Tav suddenly found she needed something more to occupy her thoughts than watching a flask boil. Reaching down for her pack, she pulled her research journal up to the desk.

It had been many weeks since Rolan brought up that subject. Why now?

Cal and Lia constantly reminded her of the long-standing offer of a room in the Tower anytime she had need of it. For unspoken reasons, she’d always found polite ways of declining.

It wasn’t that Rolan had made her feel unwelcome in any way. After all, he’d opened up the expansive resources of Ramazith’s Tower to her use, lending her all of the delicate and expensive alchemy equipment that she’d never be able to cart back and forth in her travels. She owed much of her current success to his generosity.

But Rolan had proven himself a generous patron for all kinds of arcane arts as Master of Ramazith’s Tower. Really, what made her think she was any kind of special case?

The fact that she’d very much like to be that to him…well.

That was something Tav tried not to think about. It only led her to dangerous territory, such as staring at his hands while he worked a spell and wondering what else they might be good for. Hardly conducive to a friendly, professional relationship.

And if she was any good at reading signals, friendly but professional was how Rolan wanted to keep things.

Tav shuffled through her notes a bit too briskly and almost scattered them. That was enough dwelling on that subject; clearly, Rolan had plenty to think about without worrying about unwanted advances in his own home. The least she could do to repay his generosity would be to continue respecting his boundaries.

“Noblestalk propagation?”

She glanced over her shoulder. To her surprise, Rolan had moved closer to peer down at the top page in her hands with curiosity.

“Most valuable thing in the Underdark,” she told him. “Even more than mithril. Actually, this is what I wanted to show you—”

Noblestalk fetched a high price for its alchemical power, certainly, but also for its rarity. The delicate mushrooms were notoriously picky about where they grew; it was part of what made them so hard to find.

Truth be told, she’d been running a little experiment on them down in the Underdark over the past few months. She ran a finger across the charted results as she explained them to Rolan, whose tension seemed to vanish as he listened on with keen interest.

“Obviously the spores took faster in high humidity. But look, they actually did better when I transplanted them in a really cold spot near the river here—which is so odd, most fungi need a bit of warmth—

“Have you tried recreating these artificially? Carrying a sample back to the surface?”

“Not yet.” She scratched her chin in thought. “I’d need to find somewhere underground to propagate it. And I’d rather not spend any more time in the sewers, after that little cult business.”

“Just do it here,” Rolan dismissed, as if it was the plainly obvious solution. “We’ve got quite a few empty vaults now. Shouldn’t be too hard to repurpose one as a greenhouse of sorts.”

As she turned her head to respond, she was caught up short.

Rolan was still peering intently at her writing. But in his concentration, he’d angled his body very close beside her. His chest nearly brushed her shoulder. She could’ve counted the freckles dusting his nose.

When he reached forward to flip over the page, she felt his other hand actually rest on the far side of her waist—the absent way you might touch someone very familiar to you when moving past them. Heat rose in her cheeks at the gesture.

Perhaps Rolan felt her tense. He blinked, and she watched realization dart over his features. He stepped back at once.

“Apologies.” Then he cleared his throat to add—“Your work is quite engaging.”

Coming from him, the words sounded much nicer than they had a right to. She felt her flush deepening, and quickly turned back to reorder her notes.

“Thanks,” she laughed, praying it didn’t sound as awkward as it felt rising in her throat.

Behind her back, she heard Rolan return to his desk on her left. Presumably continuing his work on the Sundries inventory; more likely trying to ignore her obvious fluster.

She clenched her jaw in an attempt to shove that same stupid, fluttery feeling out of her stomach, and returned to the practical work at hand.

—

Rolan stared down at last week’s sales in his ledger. The figures were a blur of meaningless scribbles in front of his eyes.

Was he feverish? Seriously ill? There had to be a sound explanation for the way he’d just…laid hands on her like that, unthinking.

He clenched the guilty right hand responsible, feeling its sharp nails press crescent moons into his palm. Idiot. He took a deep breath to regain his composure.

It only caused that lovely wildflower scent from before to fill his lungs more completely, pulling at his other senses. Perhaps it was emanating from one of the many strange ingredients Tav was always carrying back from the Underdark. Was that what had muddled his mind this way?

He found himself glancing back over his shoulder to where she was bent over her alchemy scales. The pink tip of her tongue was visible between her teeth, a gesture she often made when concentrating.

As Rolan watched, a lock of her hair slipped forward over her shoulder. She swept it absently back behind her ear. The innocuous motion caused another wave of something floral to brush past his face, stronger this time.

“Are you wearing scent?”

Tav glanced up from the powder she was weighing out, brows raised in question. “What?”

“Nothing,” Rolan said swiftly, shaking himself back to rights a bit. He felt very lucky she seemed to have misheard. He turned back to his work before he could say anything else strange or embarrassing.

With effort, Rolan forced his attention back to the comforting logic of sums and figures.

The time passed with blessed uneventfulness after that. The soft sounds of glassware and bubbling liquids from Tav’s alchemy faded to an idle lull at the back of Rolan’s consciousness. Nevertheless, he pushed through the past month’s numbers with more difficulty than usual, scratching through multiple errors as his quill moved over the page. He occasionally had to pause to rub at an uncomfortable crick building in his neck.

A laugh came from behind him. “Do you mind?”

Rolan raised his head to look. Tav was gesturing at the corner of her alchemy station with a bemused expression.

To his own confusion, he found that his tail had traveled there of its own accord sometime in the past minutes. It lay coiled on the wood, its tip flicking back and forth in her direction, as if seeking her attention.

With another chuckle, Tav’s fingers closed around it and lightly dropped the appendage off the edge of her desk.

An involuntary sound caught in Rolan’s throat. The moment her hand connected with his skin, a shock of blood rushed to his groin. He nearly tipped forward in alarm at the feeling.

The rapid redirection left his legs wobbling and bloodless. His knees almost buckled under him; he gripped sharp claws into the edge of his wooden desk to steady himself.

As the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Tav reading under her breath behind him while she ground something against her mortar. Praise the gods that whatever just happened to his body had escaped her notice.

“Need a book from the library—”

Without a backward glance, Rolan stumbled toward the stairs.

Spurred on by the knowledge that any customers who might notice his urgent departure would certainly see the reason for it, he strode on double-time for the portal. Only once the swirl of Weave closed behind him, depositing him in the quiet of the Tower, did he release the breath caught up in his lungs.

Seeking to ground himself, Rolan glanced up to watch the golden dust motes drift through a beam of sunlight. It was the strangest sensation to be standing completely still and feel a sweat break out over his brow.

How did he not realize days ago? Muscle aches—difficulty sleeping—heightened senses. All clear indicators that his biology had finally caught up with him, albeit a solid year later than it should have.

Rolan gripped a hand to the back of his head with a groan of realization. Not perfume—it had been Tav herself he kept catching scent of this morning. That sweet smell that practically made his mouth water to recall now was nothing but raw instinct laid bare.

Well, he had no right to complain about the timing. Apparently many frantic months of escaping the Hells, surviving on the road, and battling back an invasion from the Astral Plane had done a lot to delay the inevitable.

But inevitable it was, and as of today, very much inescapable. There was never really a convenient time for this sort of thing, was there?

It could be worse—as the new keeper of Ramazith’s Tower, at least he found himself with private quarters to retreat to for the entirety of it. If he was lucky, it would all be over in a week, and then he could go on ignoring this unfortunate side effect of his Infernal heritage for a few more uneventful years.

Lia and Cal could manage the shop for a week without any major calamities, surely?

As Rolan paced the silk carpets of the Tower floor, he forced his feverish mind to finish scrabbling together the plan. His gaze fell on the desk by the window. In the next second, he was putting shaking quill to parchment. Something simple, just enough they’d understand—

Bad week for visitors. Please mind the Sundries while I recover. Tell Tav

The tip of his quill skipped as he paused, letting a droplet of ink bleed into the page.

Tell Tav what, exactly? That he was in his room rutting his brains out like an animal in heat? Likely thinking of her while he did?

That line of thought brought a series of unhelpful and very stimulating images to mind. He swallowed down a humiliating sound as the stiffness between his legs grew painfully hard in reaction. Merciful, bloody hells.

Tell Tav nothing, he finished in a scrawl. Rolan folded the note and deposited it on the floor just in front of the portal, where it would be impossible for his siblings to miss.

Then he turned for the staircase to his bedroom, already mad to rip these chafing gods-damned robes off his skin.

#spicy #rolan x tav #tiefling ruts #eventual smut #bg3 rolan #female tav #heat/rut cycles #rebgrrl writes #underdark-dreams #bg3 fanfiction #tiefling biology

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baeshijima · 11 months

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— of lattes and dozing generals

in which you're just a cafe employee, and he is the luofu's revered general — the one who can never seem to stray too far from you, no matter how much time passes.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 10.4k wc, fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, coffee shop!au(-but-not-really-but-yeah-but-also-not), set slightly before current timeline, (old) friends to lovers, (attempts at) humour, pining pining bc they are old..., mentions of death (reader killed a mara-struck for the first time), hints of blade x reader if you squint

A/N : after a month the fic is done... i am so unwell for this man good lord ಥ_ಥ

General Jing Yuan is a cafe addict. That much is common knowledge among the citizens of the Luofu. Spanning from those who have been around for as long as he — and even older — to children and visitors alike, there’s not one person who hasn’t heard of this rumour.

When asked by a few brave (or nosy, depending on how you look at it) souls, the corners of his lips merely quirk up in a display of fond affection as he vocalises with equal sentiment, “They have my favourite there. How can I possibly resist the temptation?”

…Yeah. Whatever that meant.

Unsurprisingly, word spreads fast. News of the Cloud Knight’s general making regular trips to a meagre cafe? Just what in the world did they have to cause the great, beloved General Jing Yuan to return time and time again?

In the end, no one could actually figure out what his favourite item on the menu was. Every time he went in, it would always result in him leaving with something new! The only consistent occurrence, however, was the same employee taking his order with an expression akin to that of exasperation.

Meanwhile, to the regulars who have grown used to his profound presence within the humble cafe, they know better. This so-called ‘favourite menu item’ rumour that’s been going around? Preposterous! Having bore witness to the general breeze through the entrance in a bee-line to wherever it is you may be currently stationed (typically behind the counter) on many occasions, they’re confident the last thing in Jing Yuan’s mind when visiting is the menu.

After all, for what reason would he have to visit other than to converse with and see his favourite employee?

As a Xianzhou Native, you’ve experienced many oddities and menial routines throughout your extensive life. From being a medic-slash-supporter during countless wars and purges to your current job in a humble cafe, your options are beginning to run thin. After all, life is about exploring the new and revisiting the old (in your philosophy, at least), and there’s plenty of time to do so after having lived as long as you have.

Granted, outside of your role in purging the Denizens of Abundance, it’s safe to say your current occupation in the cafe has been your longest one yet! Well, you suppose the citizens of the Luofu — and, by extension, the Xianzhou Alliance — were never really ones for drastic change. At least the outworlders who come to visit bring some semblance of entertainment in your mundane life.

Yes. Your simple, mundane life you have come to appreciate.

“I see you’re busy as ever,” comments a baritone voice — languid in intonation yet you’re no stranger to the power which belies it. Against your better judgement, your eyes lift from the marbled counter to meet the smiling face of the bane of your existence, and the general whom the masses respect and fawn over. “Mind taking another customer?”

Ah. Right. This guy.

Out of everything that has been thrown at you, you’re almost certain this man takes the cake for the strangest experience in your life. And the longest, you suppose.

Although, it seems the same can’t be said for your coworkers, as you practically hear their beams of excitement before they can vocalise it.

“Welcome back, General Jing Yuan!”

You sigh at the enthused greeting from one of your coworkers, the beginnings of a headache teetering along the edges of your conscience.

Ignoring the commotion, you resume your work. What was it you were making again…? Oh, right. One milk tea and a—

“If you keep frowning like that, you’ll drive away customers.”

“Will it drive you away?” you retort, focusing on the last part of the order. After securing the small fruit tart from behind the display case, you pass the milk tea and pastry to a coworker so they can take it to the customer.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he drawls, impish smile magnified by the glimmer in his eyes when you turn to make contact, “but it’ll take much more than that to drive me away.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, unsure of what it is exactly he wants from you this time. Your eyes begin to narrow. “Are you saying a smile will drive you away?”

He feigns an exaggerated expression of hurt. “Drive me away? Oh, how your accusations wound me!” A chuckle bubbles from his throat when you glare at him for his theatrics, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I concede. Would you believe me if I said I’m worried your attention will be stolen away from me if you smile?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m merely looking out for you, [Name],” he says with a sigh, a shake of his head and a light tutting sound. “While I am immune to your smile, the customers are not. I don’t wish for you to be bored due to the lack of customers.”

Seriously, you can’t believe this guy sometimes. If he wants a challenge, then you accept.

And so you close your eyes and present your best century-perfected customer smile (which, to your credit, has been the number one selling point for many of the regulars and returning customers), deciding to play along with his whims. “Welcome back, General Jing Yuan. Would you like your usual today?”

(Granted, he likes to vary his order every now and then but the caramel latte seems to be his most consistent choice as of late. Pretty good taste, if you do say so yourself.)

“…”

…Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? Did everyone just unanimously decide to up and leave?? Is there a minute of silence you’re unaware of???

A meek cough disrupts your thoughts. Relieved at the new sound, you open your eyes only to be stumped by the general in front of you. His prior relaxed posture is now rigid, eyes focusing everywhere but on you. Wait, upon closer inspection, is he… shaking?

“...Please excuse me.”

Huh?

You’re not given much time to process his words. With one swift turn he’s already stalking towards the door.

“Hey! What happened to not being driven away?!” He doesn’t turn back at your shout. No, it seems to only make him speed-walk faster. Barely a blink and he’s gone, the only indication of his presence being the echoing chimes of the bell.

He bigged himself up saying he wouldn’t be driven away but then he goes and leaves you in the dust the moment you smile.

What a hypocrite.

(Unbeknown to you, the regulars who happened to witness the spectacle could only chuckle in fond exasperation at their general’s splutter and flushed skin, the only time they can truly get a read on his thoughts, and your dumbfounded expression.)

“One milk tea, as always.”

“No need to sound so enthusiastic,” Tingyun laughs before thanking you. A satisfied hum leaves her lips when drinking the beverage, and that’s all the indication you need to know you have, once again, aced the recipe.

Well done, me! You deserve a pat on the back and a century-long holiday away from as many people as possible!

Graceful movements snap you out of your fantasies. You blink rapidly to process the flutter of a fan, a disarmingly sweet giggle and a cold, paper-like material pressed into your palm.

“Have fun with your dream man~”

“Wait what—”

And then she’s gone, leaving you to stare blankly at the place she was standing mere moments prior. You’re starting to see a pattern here with people abruptly leaving you in a fit of confusion.

Well, nothing you can do about it now, you suppose. So instead you move your focus to the small, thin object enclosed in your hand. Its now-exposed surface gleams under the cafe lights, the reflection obscuring the details. A picture? But what can you do with a—

Wait. Is that… Jing Yuan… winking at the camera…?

Sure enough, under the pressure of your scrutiny as you hold the picture in various angles and heights, the winking face of Jing Yuan stares back at you in mockery. Somehow, this photo feels slightly more personal than the usual ones Tingyun distributes to the masses. Actually, you’re not sure how she even manages to obtain these photos in the first place and, quite frankly, you think it's best you don’t know.

…The hell am I supposed to do with this?

Just as you were wondering what to do with the polaroid, a familiar voice comes from behind — almost as if the small, glossy image clutched between your fingers had the ability to summon him. “If you wanted my photo, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, general,” you deadpan in response, your head swerving to meet his amused gaze before placing the photocard on the counter. “I was given this against my own will.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm,” he hums, a melodic sound which serves to speed up the palpitations of your heart. It comes to an abrupt slow, however, when you spot the corners of his lips lift into a smug curve, already dreading whatever it is that may leave his lips. “I wonder why I find that hard to believe.”

“That's not my problem.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

…

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He laughs at your groan, eyes crinkling with joy at the dispense of your suffering. Yeah, why suffer when you can make drinks? Besides, you already know he’ll accept whatever it is you make, so there’s no reason to ask for his opinion!

He follows close behind when you venture behind the counter in search of some ingredients, uncaring for the stares he receives from the customers who aren’t regulars.

When you crouch, you shoot one last accusatory glare at the still-smiling general before disappearing to rifle through cabinets underneath. “For someone in a position such as yours, you sure do have a lot of spare time to be spending it on a humble cafe worker such as myself.”

You’re not sure if he responds, too focused on searching for what you need. After finding the ingredients, you rock back on your heels and stand, the top of your head brushing against something smooth. When you rise, you realise it was the back of Jing Yuan’s hand which you made contact with, as he grips the edge of the counter where your head most definitely would have hit if he hadn’t cushioned the impact.

He merely grins when your eyes travel up the length of his arm to meet his gaze. “Well, what can I say other than you are worth every second of my time.”

…

“Don’t look at me like that, [Name].”

“Like what?” You watch as his smile strains when you repeat his words from earlier, a victorious grin creeping its way onto your lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll make your drink now. It won’t take long.”

True to your words, it doesn’t take long. Within a matter of minutes you’ve prepared a caramel latte. (It was the only thing you could find ingredients for. Perhaps it’s time to go shopping again…)

After securing the lid on the takeaway cup, you hand it over to him. He reaches out, your fingers brushing slightly and—

The silence is unnervingly loud as you both stare blankly at the spilled drink rolling across the counter.

“...I’ll be charging extra for that latte today.”

“Aha…”

You’re no stranger to quiet days in the cafe, and neither are the staff and regulars. After a particular incident way back when, it’s safe to say the establishment has faced many peaceful shifts. Though that’s not to say there hasn’t been any disputes from customers, but they’re usually small, easy to resolve issues that only require a practised smile and a (sometimes threatening) deal before sending them on their merry way.

Today, however, doesn’t seem to be one of those easy days.

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” your voice resounds in the quiet cafe, stern and unwavering. The man in question tears his attention away from his phone to glance over his shoulder, his once haughty expression now fallen into a scowl.

“And why’s that?” he asks after telling the other person on the line to wait for a moment. “I’m not being disruptive to anyone.” With the progressively hostile looks he’s been getting since earlier, you beg to differ. Well, even if he clearly is an outworlder unaware of the Xianzhou customs, that doesn’t justify his ignorance.

And you decide to tell him just that.

“Since you seem to be a visitor, let me give you a piece of advice: it would do you well to cease all mentions of seeking immortality when aboard any of the Xianzhou ships, lest you want to make an enemy of yourself to the locals.”

“Oh? And who are you to tell me that?”

Your eye twitches at his haughty tone. Within a second your signature customer smile is plastered onto your expression, an even tone conveying your next words, “A Xianzhou Native, of course.”

And the next thing you know there’s a seething customer causing a disruption in the middle of the cafe. Though not unexpected, you still held onto a fraying hope that the issue could be resolved somewhat peacefully.

How bothersome.

A light weight plops itself atop the line of your shoulder, shifting slightly with a soft brush against your jaw before coming to a still. With a blink, you and the man share a brief moment of confusion, and you find yourself more stupefied at the finch gazing up at you with a slight tilt of its head.

It looks familiar, but that isn’t much to go off of. Besides, the first person to come to mind already said he would be busy this week, so you highly doubt he’s managed to appear at just the right time like always… right? Right—

“What seems to be the issue here?”

Your answer comes in the form of a tender warmth encasing your back, a beguiling voice resounding from behind, and a familiar scent relaxing your tensed muscles. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise who’s standing behind you, but perhaps it’s because you’re so used to his presence that you can identify him the moment he steps into a room.

“General…” you trail off at his unexpected appearance. Jing Yuan does not meet your gaze, however, instead choosing to remain upright behind you and fixate his focus onto the man who kicked up a fuss, expression hardened into that akin of a general.

The little finch is not deterred by the overwhelming presence Jing Yuan now exudes. Rather, it chirps happily and nudges its head against your jaw once more before making itself comfortable along the slope of your neck. Looking at it a little closer you realise it's the one who sometimes greets you when you and Jing Yuan meet up, finding purchase on your shoulder during a round or two of starchess. A smile makes its way onto your lips when it leans into the touch of your finger.

It would seem the small bird did a great job in distracting you, however, for the next thing you know wind sweeps past you, exclamatory apologies spewed out in haste follow and gradually fade in its wake. There’s a faint chime of the bell and a missing presence in front of you.

Oh, you blink, he ran away.

Jing Yuan turns to you then, expression much softer than it was a few moments prior. “Are you alright?” he asks, his hand gently squeezing your free shoulder.

“Yeah, thank you,” you sigh. Your fingers lift to massage away the built up tension in your temples. “I’m sorry you had to see that on your break.”

There’s a small pause. “You shouldn’t apologise for something like that.”

“Huh…?” It was a mistake to meet his gaze, you belatedly realise, for your breath is ceased by the flame which burns molten gold, your heart caught in your throat amidst a gravitas you haven’t seen for a while.

His lips part, tone gradually changing to something more light-hearted; a stark contrast to his current expression. “You were just doing your job. It was that customer who was in the wrong. Honestly, he should have known better than to talk so flippantly about that topic.”

Well, you can’t refute his words.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You cough in an attempt to divert the topic, only to raise a brow at his unreadable countenance. “I thought you said you would be busy.”

Jing Yuan pauses, as though hesitant, before responding, “I sent you a message to send notice of my visit but you didn’t even leave me on read, so I knew there was something wrong.”

“I didn’t even notice…” Without a moment’s haste, you pull out your phone. There on your home screen displays notification banners: 6 unread messages from my headache <3.

my headache <3: I have some free time, so I will be paying you a visit. Don’t mention this to Qingzu though, she doesn’t know I am taking a break. =w=

my headache <3: Are you busy? You don’t usually leave me on delivered for longer than five minutes.

my headache <3: Did I do something to make you mad?

my headache <3: [Name]?

my headache <3: …

my headache <3: I will be at the cafe soon. Wait for me.

A pang of guilt seeps into your conscience. You hadn’t realised he sent so many messages. Did that customer take up that much of your attention? Also, do you really not leave him on delivered for more than five minutes??

“Oh! You kept the heart I put there?” Your thoughts are promptly cut off by the baritone voice resounding beside your ear. His light breaths puff against your skin as he leans against you, peeking over your shoulder to read the messages he sent.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you huff, eyes trained onto the device to avoid meeting his gaze. “I said you could make any changes you wanted to your contact name and this was what you wanted.”

He stiffens at your words, breath stuttering ever so slightly against your skin but quickly catches himself. There’s no response for a while, instead a wave of calm washes over you as you scroll through your phone with Jing Yuan watching from his place over your shoulder, sometimes recalling a particular memory which comes to mind at certain photos in your camera roll.

It goes on like this for a little while until he shifts, strands of silver brushing against the shell of your ear when he releases a light sigh. You glance over your shoulder only to see him already looking at you, the lines of his features soft and gentle.

“You know,” he starts, voice soft with a twinge of nostalgia seeping through, “I’m your first and longest supporter.”

Well, that certainly came out of the blue.

But he’s not wrong, and perhaps that is why you find yourself huffing out a breathy laugh in response. “What? You want me to praise you?”

“Would you?” he asks, an instantaneous response to your lighthearted jest.

You stare at him, incredulous, but he doesn’t falter. His gaze holds weight, seizing your breath and rendering you speechless. Ah, he really isn’t good for your heart.

“Keep dreaming, general.”

Despite the scoff backing those words, you make no effort to hide your smile. And though you don’t catch it, Jing Yuan makes no effort to hide the adoration glistening in his gaze.

Sidestep to the left. Duck. Step back. Parry. Clang! Step to the right. Pivot. Clack! Raise your arm—!

A sword flies up, twirling mid-air as it plummets back down and digs cleanly into the grass. It gleams under the artificial sun, becoming a focal point in the otherwise barren grounds. You straighten your posture, spear at your side and a bottle of water in hand as you approach the worn-out aspiring Sword Champion.

“You’ve improved, Yanqing.” You smile when he looks up, breathing ragged as he mumbles his thanks before guzzling down the fluids of the water bottle now in his hands. You sit beside him, and it’s not long before a refreshed sigh escapes him, setting the near-empty bottle in his lap.

A lapse of silence. A faint breeze. A wave of heat. A shift of gold.

You sigh upon noticing the boy’s gaze switching between you and your weapon. “What is it?”

“That spear,” he starts, “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“How so?”

“It’s different from the spears the rest of the Cloud Knight’s use and, even though it has a similar aura to the general’s Devastator Glaive, it feels like… it was almost made for you. A weapon that only you can wield.”

For a teen yet to explore the larger part of life, he is frighteningly perceptive. He’s quick to pick up subtle nuances and yet retains that innocent curiosity which enables him to ask questions most adults would not. It’s part of a child’s charm, and you can only hope he will never be robbed of that part of him.

“Made for me, you say?” You cast a glance to your side, vision tunnelling into the fine details which adorns the crafted spear. Despite the many centuries the weapon has braved through, it still appears as though it were only crafted yesterday. Its colours are still vibrant and its exterior holds minimal wear. Your breath hitches when your gaze trails down towards the hilt and hones in on the faintly carved names: yours and the one who gifted this to you.

Your mind numbs. There’s a matching bow which sits in your home, you recall, locked away in a spare room deep within the confinement of your walls. There are other accompaniments, too, surrounding it in decorated, bejewelled boxes filled with handicrafts ranging from everyday trinkets to carefully crafted ornaments carved from the purest of jades.

It sits there, collecting dust all year round. All year round except for one single day — a day when your thoughts surge to new heights and can only be tamed when in that room, cleaning off layers of dust and spiralling into seemingly endless nostalgia. It serves as both a commemoration of the past as well as a reminder for what will never again be.

Immortality truly is a wretched thing.

“[Name]?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts. Yanqing, who was sitting beside you mere moments prior, is in front of you with a hand on your shoulder. He probably shook you while you were lost in thought, you surmise. How mortifying…

“Your teacher seems to be slacking off,” you cough, swiftly changing the topic. He doesn’t take note of your awkward transition, but, if he did, he’s done a good job hiding it. “Is he busy?”

“The general?” he repeats in a murmur, chin held between his thumb and forefinger with a contemplative expression. He blinks. “Nope! No clue.”

“I see,” you sweatdrop. Worry begins to pool in the back of your mind, but it is quickly smothered when Yanqing jumps up, bouncing on his heels as he shows off his recovered energy and readiness to spar with you for another round.

You cast one last glance at your spear before standing, following close behind an eager Yanqing as he bounds to the middle of the field with his sword in hand.

(You can still recall him; the young man who gave you these gifts way back when, putting on airs of nonchalance in a poor attempt at masking his bashfulness, the furtive glances, the hand raised to rub the back of his neck, the awkward cough he always did before excusing himself after gifting whatever it was he made that time — all of it is practically ingrained into your mind.

You can still recall him; how could you not when he is the same man who haunts you when in your lonesome.)

He’s not here. Again.

You’ve lost count of the number of times your focus darts to the door when a resounding chime of the bell is heard, only to be left with aching disappointment when it turns out to be anyone other than Jing Yuan. His radio silence is concerning, though you suppose any kind of silence from him has that effect considering he always made sure to notify you when he would be busy, therefore unable to visit you due to urgent matters.

Has he been well? Has he been eating regularly? What of his sleeping habits? He’s not overworking himself again, is he? What if he left on an expedition without saying anything?

Your answer appears in the form of Yukong.

“The general?” she repeats, blowing lightly on the freshly brewed coffee before answering you. “While I am not completely in the know, I’ve heard in passing that he has been cooped up in his office. For once.”

It’s practically common knowledge to the Luofu citizens how Jing Yuan tends to be absent from the Seat of Divine Foresight. More often than not, he will appear as a hologram, sometimes choosing to instead give advance notice of his lack of presence. Well, you suppose most have grown accustomed to finding him at the cafe. So for him to now hide away in his office without a word is of course a matter of concern. After all, the last time he did this was years ago, and that was because he didn’t want you to worry about… him.

You pause, fists clenching at your belated realisation. A tinge of frustration begins to creep up, but the concern over his condition is far more prevalent, curling around and constricting your heart as worry clouds your senses. “That guy…”

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he comments, voice languid in a valiant attempt to hide the undertone of surprise at your arrival. He quickly recovers with a genial smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?”

Admittedly, it would have fooled many others. Unfortunately, you have known him too long to be fooled by such tactics. You’re sure he knows, if the slight waver in his gaze has anything to say about it.

Instead of answering, you choose to remain still in front of the now-shut doors. He doesn’t seem to notice though, as he merely resumes his task in a robotic manner. Except for the two of you, the office is void of the usual stationed knights and his few assistants, making the room feel much larger. It’s daunting.

Your unease does not fade after hearing his voice. No, it only heightens, his sluggish movements and voice laden with exhaustion further spiralling you into a state of distress over his well-being. You watch his slow blinks, head dipping slightly only to snap up to prevent himself from falling into slumber before continuing to sign document after document, replacing each signed sheet with a new one in a never-ending cycle.

It would have been comical if you weren’t aware of the fact he’s been neglecting his health to finish these papers.

Typically, he wouldn’t be having this issue, always having been the type to get his work done ahead of time despite his… less than professional demeanour at times, though it seems the papers have been brought in heavy bulk this time around; that, or they contained pressing matters which couldn’t be put off.

“Take a break,” you finally say, unable to stand the sight of him pushing himself any longer. He doesn’t spare you a glance. If it weren’t for the brief pause in his writing before continuing, you would have thought he didn’t hear you. Teeth digging into your lower lip and eyes narrowing into a glare, you try once more. “I’m serious. Take a break.”

Palpable silence douses the room.

And then he lifts his head, meeting your furrowed gaze. His eyes are anything but bright, a dull glaze coupled with dark eyebags signifying his lack of sleep.

“I have to finish signing these papers,” Jing Yuan sighs out, giving what you assume to be an apologetic glance before lowering his head back down to resume the paperwork.

Unfortunately for him, you won’t allow him to succeed in his attempts.

“And I don’t want you to collapse from overwork again!” He flinches at that, and you know you have managed to convince him when he places his pen down on the table’s surface and relents with a deep sigh. When he finally nods, defeated, the building tension dissipates and you’re able to breathe without worry again.

With cautious steps, you make your way over to the large chair. Having been in this room countless times, it’s easy for you to glide to where Jing Yuan sits despite the darkness which now drapes like a veil over the interior.

When you reach his seat, your eyes harden at the scattered documents, staring at them for a few seconds in hopes it will miraculously burn them, before tearing your gaze away and focusing on your weary friend.

“Let’s get you home,” you mutter. You lean down and prepare to help him stand in case he needs the extra support after having sat for too long. It doesn’t go as planned, however, when he tugs you down beside him and plops his head onto your lap. “Hey—!”

“Just for a moment…” he intercepts, voice heavily laced with sleep. The second you lock eyes, you know it’s all over for you. “Just for a moment, stay here with me.”

And you sigh knowing ‘a moment’ will turn into hours. But you’re fine with that. As long as he gets his rest and can finally let his guard down, you would gladly lend him your lap for days on end.

“Fine.” You shift slightly to provide him more comfort. “Take as long as you need. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He responds in the form of a grateful smile and soft squeeze to your hand. Within a matter of seconds he’s sound asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing the dull ache in your heart.

Cautiously, you raise your free hand and reach out to his peaceful expression. His hair is silkier than you last remember, easily threading your fingers through the soft strands to brush them away from obscuring his features.

‘Than I last remember’, huh…

Your eyes trail to the hand clutched in his.

Thinking back on it, it has been a while since you last relaxed like this with him. Life tends to be busy, the cafe takes up most of your time, and Jing Yuan has his official duties to take care of. No matter how lax he tries to play it off, you’re aware he has his hands full with governmental affairs and conjuring a multitude of tactics to minimise losses. That’s the kind of person he is — to badger you about the happenings in your life, yet hide away and gloss over his with a genial mask so as to not worry you.

You’ve always hated that part of him. Why can’t you worry for him? Why must it always be he who consoles you but not the other way around? Does he truly not know how his evasive tendencies pain you, intentional or not?

Questions, questions, questions; all these questions and yet there’s never a concrete answer.

Is he… really so oblivious to the way his secrecy is what spurs your distance with him?

Your hand pauses.

Perhaps steadily drawing a line between you is a pointless pursuit in clinging onto the past, a fleeting hope for everything to revert back to the way it was before; to deny the happenings of bygones which paved the way for the present.

Things will never be what they once were. You understand that. You accept that. And, perhaps, that is what makes it hurt all the more.

Four familiar faces emerge from deep within the hidden crevices of your conscience, ones you have not physically seen for a long time — too long, perhaps. And yet they appear just as vivid as before everything went up in flames, endlessly haunting you when you’re left alone with the silence of your own mind. No matter how tightly you shut your eyes in blatant refusal of their presence, nor the strength in which you cover your ears to drown out the remnants of their voices, they never leave you alone. They cling to you, desperate; the same way in which you are to be free of them.

But even so, in spite of the hostility and bitterness and hurt which remains in their wake and binds itself to their legacies, you cannot help but to wish they are doing well, wherever it is they may now be.

And maybe it’s the full moon glaring down at you which spurs this wishful thinking but, on the off-chance they return, perhaps those of you that are left can gather at the cafe after closing hours and chat about anything and everything, exciting and menial, you have come to experience in the time spent apart.

(Just like old times.)

But, of them, only Jing Yuan remains, and maybe that is why he doesn’t manifest alongside them as a result of this aching nostalgia, instead resting peacefully on your thighs with steady, even breaths; the only indication that he truly is here with you.

“We will be okay, Jing Yuan,” you find yourself whispering as you gaze down at him. “We’ve made it this far, and we’ll continue on, braving through our fate.”

The image of him blurs, his colours further contorting the more you try to blink it away. It is then you force your eyes shut, lean down towards him, lightly brush away his fringe and press two fleeting, chaste kisses: one against the skin of his forehead and the other atop the mole under his left eye. “If not for myself, then, for you, I’ll be okay.”

Whether that’s to reassure you or him… you’re not sure.

For as long as you can remember, Jing Yuan has always been with you.

It wasn’t merely a matter of staying by each other’s side during the day; no, it’s more than that. Your relationship runs deep — centuries bordering a millennia worth of memories tucked away in the crevices of your mind — and it would be an understatement to say you know each other like the back of your hand.

Together, the two of you have been through it all, in practically every sense of the word.

Despite enlisting into the Cloud Knights, it was far from what you wanted, instead aligning with the demands of your parents. To have that expectation of continuing your family’s tradition, to have that burden of battling for the Xianzhou Luofu’s legacy, to have that constant worry of one day being mara-struck due to your race, to perhaps never be able to do what you want for yourself, shackled to generations of family service… that was the meaning of your existence. Whether you liked it or not.

You eventually gave up, simply accepting your unwanted fate and following the hollowed footsteps carved by your ancestors. That was how you ended up amongst the new recruits for the Cloud Knights and listening to the current general’s speech about glory and honour and pride — all for the Xianzhou Alliance; all for the Xianzhou Luofu; all for the Cloud Knights.

Fate is such a weird thing, you remember thinking to yourself as your gaze swept across many others in the same uniform as you. Because despite you all looking the same, despite you all holding the same make of spear, you knew their passion and dedication to serve the alliance would far outweigh your own.

He was no exception.

Contrary to you, the boy who stood a couple rows in front wanted to be there. It was obvious in the way his eyes glimmered, the way he held himself in an upright posture and focused with rapt attention on the general at the front. Perhaps that was what caught your eye back then — the pure, unadulterated desire rolling off him had rooted you in place and forced your attention to be on him.

With a sigh you averted your gaze. There was only one thought which resonated within you in that brief moment: you would never grow close to that boy.

For, unlike you, he was made to shine under the glow of the artificial sun, while you were a passionless bystander relinquished of your fate.

It wasn’t long before you made a name for yourself amongst the new recruits of the Cloud Knights. It stemmed from a training session-turned-competition. One which you came out on top.

A natural prodigy is what they called you.

A lucky fluke is what they whispered behind your back.

Looking back, you’re not sure why you tried so hard. Did you think you would have it easy if you won? If anything, it probably made your future that much more troublesome with weighty expectations and watchful eyes from those around you.

Well, there went your quiet life.

At least it couldn’t be as suffocating as it would be back at home. The most you would receive are jealous glances from your weaker peers, or urges from your trainers to try a bit harder. But what reason was there to try when the outcome never changed?

“Why are you here?”

“Huh?” When you looked up, hands still gripped tight around the length of your training spear, your unimpressed eyes met pools of gold. They widened upon contact.

“Wait— that’s not what I—!” he had cut himself off with a sigh, pink dusting his cheeks. He quickly regathered himself and faced you once more. “I mean, why are you here when you clearly don’t want to be? I watched your matches earlier, but there was no light in your eyes… Kind of like now.”

Was that the expression you had? You would never know. What you did know was that the boy was persistent. Evading the topic would not work on him and, quite frankly, you were tired.

“I’m only here because of my parents,” you began. Your fists clenched and your eyes hardened as you lowered your gaze to the grass. “I hate my fate. I have no say in what I can or can’t do in my own life. That’s all there is to it.”

There was a moment of silence after your sombre words. Maybe now he would leave you alone and be on his way. Just like it should be. Someone like him who shines above the rest has no business with you, whose passion was extinguished before it could manifest.

“That’s not true.” Your gaze snapped up, words of protest ready to be let loose only for that burst of anger to dissipate the second you locked eyes. “You can escape your fate.”

“Hah! What nonsense are you—”

“Because that’s what I did.” You blinked once, twice. Your disbelief must have been obvious by the way he flushed slightly, the crimson tinge spanned from the tips of his ears to the apples of his cheeks. “I mean, my ‘fate’ was originally supposed to be a scholar or some kind of official in the Realm-Keeping Commission and follow my family’s footsteps, but look where I am now. I’m nowhere near that.”

It was strange. He was not supposed to be someone similar to you. He was supposed to be someone you could only gaze at from afar. He burned brightly; you did not.

And yet, through his next words, you discovered that you, too, were capable of dreaming and hoping, the light suddenly appearing in what you deemed to be an abyssal darkness.

“I’m now a Cloud Knight, and I believe that you can also change your fate!”

A sense of camaraderie formed between you and the golden boy that day, an odd, tingling warmth coiled around your heart. Though an unfamiliar feeling, you found you didn’t hate it.

“Master asked about you today.”

“Tell her my answer is still no.”

“You don’t even know what she asked about!”

“Don’t need to.”

A sigh came from your left at your instant retorts, but that didn’t bother you. The sun was still up and you were set on soaking up as much of it as you could before Jing Yuan had to leave for his training.

It had been a couple years since you first met now, and you somehow became an inseparable pair; where one of you would be spotted, the other wouldn’t be far behind if not already there.

Well, most of the time, at least.

When Jing Yuan had caught the attention of the Sword Champion, Jingliu, he was offered a place in her team. He accepted, of course, and ever since then he began training under her guidance. As a result, those were the only times you were actively separated.

But by extension, you were somehow roped into her interest.

“So this is where you were.” You grimaced at the familiar tone, turning away as Jing Yuan scrambled beside you.

“Master…!”

“You go on ahead, Jing Yuan. There’s something I need to discuss with [Name].”

Although you hadn’t raised your head, the hesitation in Jing Yuan’s movements were clear. The silence stretched on for a long few seconds before he sighed, “I’ll meet you after I finish, [Name].”

And then he was gone, only you and the Sword Champion remained under the tree’s shade. Blades of grass swayed under the faint breeze, but that, too, came to a standstill within seconds.

“I noticed you didn’t take the oath earlier,” Jingliu said, the silence broken.

A humourless laugh escaped your lips. “I didn’t realise the Sword Champion was keeping such a close eye on me.”

“You’re hiding your talent.” You fell silent at her abrupt statement. Your fingers twitched when she continued. “I know you’re capable of more than you let on.”

What do you know? You thought to yourself as your fingers dug into the grass. You know nothing about me, so stop acting like it.

You never understood why she was so persistent. Was it because of how close you and Jing Yuan were? Had your parents somehow managed to contact and persuade her? What did she even gain from chasing after you when it was clearly a waste of her time? Why…

“Why… why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because he worries for you.” Your body stilled at her words. You stayed silent for a moment before responding, albeit weaker than your previous tone.

“I’m fine. There’s no reason to worry about me.”

“…[Name]—”

“It’s probably best if you go. Jing Yuan’s waiting for you.” She faltered at your words, ultimately conceding.

A sigh escaped you when you noticed her fall back and prepare to head to their usual training spot. She lingered however, and cast a glance over her shoulder to regard you once more.

“You should visit our training sometime,” Jingliu uttered, her usual stern expression a touch softer than what you were used to. “It would be nice to train together, and you can spend more time with Jing Yuan. I hope you can at least consider it.” And then you could only watch as she walked away, the hues of the sunset steadily engulfing her form.

Back then you had scoffed at her words, unaware of the bond you would come to form with the members of the High-Cloud Quintet as a result of your wretched curiosity.

“Someone became mara-struck on the expedition.”

“What…?” A soft gasp came from your left. “Is that why only you…”

“Yeah,” you hummed. You had no courage to face your friend next to you, choosing to instead stare listlessly at your quivering hands. “It happened so quickly. One moment we were discussing tactics, the next we heard screaming. It was agonising. And then, in the blink of an eye…” you gulped, drawing in a harsh breath as your hands clenched into fists, “I killed her. I had to. I… I was the only one left from the team and she kept coming after me and I realised then I truly didn’t want to die and—!”

Your words came to an abrupt halt, smothered by an all-too familiar warmth. The beat of his heart against your ear calmed your erratic breaths, allowing you to regain some semblance of composure. Even when you could no longer hear the rapid pounding of your heart ringing through your ears you remained slumped against his chest, the fatigue weighing down your muscles.

“Jing Yuan,” you called in a hoarse tone, “am I a monster now?”

“You’re not,” came his immediate response. You couldn’t find it in you to believe him.

“But I killed someone, Jing Yuan! We were comrades in arms and I took her life!”

“The situation was out of your control and it was the only thing you could do. It was for your survival and to stop her from suffering any longer. You’re not a monster, [Name].” His voice was steady like a pillar of support, a calm sound that could make you believe all the prior happenings were a mere nightmare you’d just awoken from. His arms around you tightened and pushed you further into his familiarity. “You never could be. Never to me.”

That day was the first time you had ever cried so hard to the point you passed out, the exhaustion having finally caught up. That day you were left unaware of the tears Jing Yuan held back as he bore witness to your rare vulnerability, vision blurring and heart aching as he internally vowed to stay by your side — until he no longer physically could.

As you both grew older within this endless spiral of longevity, you could only watch as he became something more than a mere soldier of the Cloud Knights — as he began to be someone out of your reach and unfamiliar against a golden glow too radiant for you to perceive.

It wasn’t long after that you left the Cloud Knights for a placement in a newly opened cafe, having had enough of a life out of your control and dictated by others. You had stayed with the Cloud Knights long enough and you finally found the courage to leave after your numerous contributions.

And while your family may not have been pleased with your decision, Jing Yuan had been supportive, taking it upon himself to visit you when he could despite his limited free time in-between training and expeditions. The other four of the High-Cloud Quintet would tag along as well, sometimes relaying entertaining stories to embarrass the others or to simply catch up with you during your time apart as you readily prepared food and drinks for the six of you to enjoy.

It felt like a dream to still be able to laugh with them.

Unfortunately, all dreams must come to an end. It was a notion that was so glaringly obvious, and yet it never truly occurred to you; not when their visits gradually became less frequent. Not when you began to notice the tension between a couple of your friends. Not when a familiar cold lingered during the moments where all was silent and you were alone.

It was through those moments you foolishly clung to the fraying hope that everything would turn out okay — that all the budding tension would smooth itself out, allowing for you to all converse like it never happened and to move past the hurdle.

Perhaps it was because you had deluded yourself into believing everything would be okay that, the moment your fantasy shattered before your very eyes, it hit you in a way far more torturous than death could ever hope to be.

It hit you in the form of Jing Yuan returning to you on that fateful day in his lonesome, eyes hollow and empty, body battered and bruised; your heart which beat for him shattered when he slumped against you, your world crashing in pursuit. The after-effects of the sobs wracking his battle-worn being reverberated through your slack form, a seemingly endless stream of tears stung the skin along the crook of your neck as he released his unfiltered anguish within your trembling embrace.

You found there was no need to ask how the confrontation with Jingliu went, for his desperate grip and hitched breaths spoke louder than his voice ever could.

At that moment, you believed there was nothing more painful than the sound of his broken cries — your mind, body and soul yearning to take his pain and make it your own at the sheer despair in his eyes as he seeked your comfort. In that moment, you had never felt so powerless, so utterly weak and useless when all you could do in the face of his agony was lend him your familiarity in the confines of the closed cafe.

Even now, seven hundred years later, you still do not believe there to be anything more painful.

During your quiet moments, you’ve always wondered what it would be like to experience some of the scenes penned in countless novels you’ve read. Would they be just as heart-throbbing as the authors depict them to be? Or would they fall flat and lacklustre when put into a real-world scenario?

What about the stories you’ve overheard during your shifts, or the tales the regulars recounted during the slow days? Would they ever happen to you as well? You’ve always wondered about these things, however…

Just what is this situation?? Isn’t it a bit too similar to that one scene in a novel you recently read? Well, it’s not as if you’re hiding away in the middle of an apocalypse, but the setting of an empty cafe after dark where it is just the two of you still remains the same.

Jing Yuan stands before you, his imposing silhouette prominent against the fragmented brushes of moonlight, pools of molten gold stark against the night’s backdrop. He remains still in the face of your racing thoughts.

The pelting rain (courtesy of the alliance’s artificial weather) drowns your thoughts. In all honesty, you can’t recall how you came to be in this situation. One moment you were closing up the cafe, the next a sudden downpour arrived alongside a drenched general. In your haste to bring him inside, you didn’t stop to think about why he was in the rain in the first place, the only objective in your mind being to dry him as soon as possible.

And so that’s what you did. Only, in your attempt to persuade the man to share an umbrella and walk back home, you were pulled back into him, the umbrella rolling helplessly across the floor as he rooted you in place by the presence of his hands on your shoulders.

Which leads you to your current predicament now.

“What is it?” you ask upon noticing his silence. There is hesitation in his silence. It prolongs in the way a void is endless, stretching on for miles upon miles with no end in sight. There’s a flicker of light in the form of his voice as he brings himself to speak, his words firm yet lacking that usual self-assured intonation he always has.

“Am I someone close to you? No, do you consider me as someone close to you?”

“What nonsense are you…” your words die out when you fail to see his usual air of playfulness, a grave countenance piercing you in its stead. “Of course I consider you as someone close to me. I wouldn’t have spent centuries upon centuries by your side otherwise.” He doesn’t seem to take your light jest well, if his darkening expression has anything to say about it.

“Then why are you still formal with me, even when in private and away from prying eyes?”

“Because you’re one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals, while I am a cafe employee. In a realistic perspective, we are not the same and I’m aware of our boundaries. In fact,” you mumble, meeting his conflicted gaze with a blank one, “I should be the one asking you if I’m someone close to you.”

It’s silent for a brief moment, up until a whispered murmur of “And just who is the one speaking nonsense now?” shatters it.

Your patience, too, shatters alongside it.

“Then what else am I supposed to think when you’re always keeping things from me? You’re always asking about what I’ve done in the day and prying into the details of my life, but what about you? Whenever I ask how things are, or if there’s anything troubling you, you just brush it off like it’s nothing and avoid answering altogether! Am I not allowed to worry about you? Am I not someone who can lend you a shoulder?

You always blabbered about sharing each other’s pain, to not keep our hardships to ourselves, but take a look at yourself first. ‘Am I someone close to you?’ ‘Do you consider me as someone close to you?’ You have no right to ask me those questions when it’s you who's been the one keeping their distance this whole time. What…” A shuddering breath escapes you, your mouth running dry amidst your high emotions. There’s a dull pain which spreads through your bottom lip, your teeth digging into the soft flesh just as your nails do in your palms. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you can only hope it's enough to prevent the well of tears building behind your lids. “What else am I supposed to do if you refuse to let me in?”

You’re tired, you come to realise. Tired of his avoidance and tired of his secrecy. Even if you don’t have the energy to voice your other built-up sentiments, you have an inkling he already knows — whether or not he wants to admit it… well, that’s a problem for him, not for you.

The sigh you release is heavy; heavy with emotion and fatigue.

Your gaze drifts to the window behind the silent man. Despite the ripples in the puddles, the previous downpour has begun to let up, now only a faint pitter patter is all that remains. Seeing how Jing Yuan has made no effort to move or speak, you decide it would be best to leave as soon as possible. After all, there is no fight left in you, only a frail shell hollowed by your insecurities.

When you try to move, however, his grip tightens. You’re pulled closer than you were just a moment ago and his fingers dig into the fabric of your clothing — as though he were desperate to keep you in his sights. Your protests die before they can even arise, for the way his eyes glimmer despite there being no light renders you immobile.

“Do you really not see?” His voice comes in the form of a broken whisper, and you try to suppress the suffocating ache in your heart when he gazes at you as though he witnessed you pluck the stars and hand it to him.

“See what?” you scoff, a weak sound that pales against the hammering of your pulse. “All I see is a coward running away from his problems.”

A cold silence. A trembling grip. A shuddering breath.

“You’re right. I am a coward.” You’re taken aback by his ready agreement, though you’re unable to dwell on it for long when his voice gradually begins to rise, his emotions spilling over in pursuit. “I run from problems I cannot handle. I avoid anything that can be deemed as troublesome. I fear that if I burden you with my pain — with my hardships — you will grow tired of me and leave. You’re already so far away, you’ve always been so far from my reach, and yet…” A strained gulp follows his dying words. “And yet if even your fading silhouette is something I can no longer see, then I don’t know what I will do with myself.”

There’s a plethora of things you want to say, but none can be articulated. No matter how much you try and force the words out, nothing is uttered. Just as you think the words will string together, he laughs, humourless and empty.

“You’re right. I have no right to ask you when I’m the one pushing you away — when I’m the one causing this rift between us. But what else must I do to stay by your side, if not this? Where else can I reach you, if not shadowed by your light? You’re the last person I want to lose, [Name], so please,” his voice trembles ever so slightly, a detail that would go unheard if it were not for the fact it is just the two of you, a desolate silence, and frail streaks of moonlight, “don’t go to some place I can’t find you.”

His chest heaves in tandem with his shuddering breaths, the only sound which punctures the still air. You’re not sure which is louder: that, or the white noise ringing amidst your senses. There is no room for thought, however, as you barely take note of your lips parting and the words which leave them.

“You… make me feel like a fool the longer I stay with you.” Your words are not loud, nor are they particularly harsh. But with the current atmosphere being so tense, you may as well have shouted them from the bottom of your heart with the way the echo ricochets within the empty cafe.

Even if your words are not loud, the silence most definitely is; deafeningly so.

After your… confession, for a lack of better words, belatedly registers in your conscience, you have half a mind to slap yourself silly. After all, who in their right mind responds to such an emotional, heartfelt barrage with… that.

You, it would seem.

(A petty part of you deems it fine considering the inner turmoil he’s put you through for Aeons knows how long.)

“Do you want to know something?” he asks, leaving you with no time to linger on your life choices. “When I’m with you, I feel like a fool as well.” Your surprise must have been obvious as he chuckles lightly with a gaze never straying from you. There’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere, one which lightens your heart without dismissing the emotions woven into the space between you. Before you can even think up a response, he continues. “Even if I rehearse what I plan to say to you, it rarely comes out the way I want. Sometimes the words don’t even come out at all. It’s always been this way, even before we became acquainted with each other.”

You blink at his words, stupefied. “You mean back when we were first enlisted into the Cloud Knights?” His sheepish chuckle is answer enough. “Wait— you mean— since all the way back then— huh??”

“Yeah,” he responds, voice light and teeming with unbridled affection, “since the moment I saw you in the welcome ceremony.”

????? Since then?! All you can remember is not wanting anything to do with him back then! To think you never noticed anything until he said it now, though technically it’s not entirely your fault since he never explicitly said anything… right?

Yeah, no it’s both your faults.

“I’m sorry to not have noticed anything till now,” you sigh, your head drooping. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

(Jing Yuan just barely manages to control himself from kissing you senseless right then and there. Who gave you the right to be so adorable?? Not him, but you won’t catch him complaining.)

“Anything, you say?” he asks after a cough or two. Your eyes narrow at his behaviour before shrugging it off.

“Well, within reason…” you trail off at his pointed look, your mouth instantly shutting at his expression akin to — dare you say — puppy-dog eyes. It’s oddly cute, though you’ve always found his sleepy, cat-like demeanour to be the most endearing and heart-melting of all. (Not that you would ever admit this to him, of course. Well, not when he’s awake, at least.) And so, unsurprisingly, you relent. “Okay. Anything.”

“Then don’t be formal and act distant in public. Just call me ‘Jing Yuan’ familiarly like you used to.”

You blink once, twice. “...That’s it?”

“Well,” he drawls, “considering how you only addressed me as ‘General’ or ‘General Jing Yuan’, which was admittedly closer to my preference, despite being one of the few who were well aware I never wanted to be a general in the first place, I believe it’s the least you can do to show your sincerity.”

You scoff. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, foolish Jing Yuan.”

And he laughs, a breathy melody which sets your heart ablaze. Then you feel his fingers thread through yours, the faint callouses brushing against the back of your hand a testament to his battle prowess.

His lashes flutter shut as your hand is brought up towards his lips. Just as the plush of his lips grazes against your palm, his head dips, instead planting a soft kiss along the pulse point of your inner wrist. There’s a huff of laughter against your warmed skin, and you’re positive it’s because he found amusement in the way your pulse surged and stuttered under his lips.

Smug bastard.

His lashes flutter once more when they open into a half-lidded gaze, your wrist growing ticklish as his lips begin to move against your skin as he murmurs out, “I suppose that makes two of us, my foolish [Name].” When he turns to stare at you completely, his expression is nothing short of soft — eyes filled to the brim and overflowing with tender adoration doused in liquid gold and a warm, gentle curve of a smile that has you clammed up and breathless.

“Yeah,” you mumble after regaining some semblance of composure, unable to stop the smile which blooms on your lips, “I suppose it does.”

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #jing yuan x reader #jingyuan x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #jing yuan x you #jingyuan x you #honkai star rail imagines #hsr imagines #honkai star rail fluff #hsr fluff

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vacayisland · 5 months

Note

I have the largest hyper fixation on Floyd right now. Funny little troll being way too cute for it to be legal.

do you think you could write a story where a male / Non-binary reader that's like, a large person thing, (You can make them part animal if possible, I like the idea of Floyd hiding in the readers fur for comfort.) is reunited with Floyd after he was stick in the diamond perfume bottle for 2 months. And they just give Floyd a bunch of comfort cuddles and other stuff.

Take all the time you need to rest and drink water, if you can't do my request, that's perfectly fine. I hope you have an amazing day / night!

-A non-binary bee 🐝

@!; Floyd with a part-animal Reader! Floyd / Half-animal! Half-Troll! Reader

"Summary"! Couldn't tell if you meant big like tall or big like cubby... so why not both? :D Anyways, there are more headcanon style with little stories in it. Dunno when I'll post this (I have like 5 other stories backed up b/c my mind can't decide what to write); But I hope you like it Bee! Tags! Floyd literally being everything, no pronouns mentioned so feel free to use your own, hurt-comfort, NOT PROOF READ... also wrote in one sitting... in one day. AND TUMBLR KEPT GLITCHING ON ME AND THE PITCTURE BORDER ISN'T WORKING ON DESKTOP-. anyways please enjoy <3

@!; Floyd has known you since his band days, which was a shock to his brothers when they finally met you. Not only are you taller than an average troll (a foot or so) yet you're also different; and mostly in a good way, but take what you will about the fact that Branch noticed your differences first. When Floyd first met you, it was 2 months into his boyband career with Brozone. He went out on a walk to clear his head before a big show, anxious feels were never good to go on stage with and his brothers didn't help much. Mostly John Dory, who kept speaking about his "perfect" plan to the show. Just thinking about messing up anything made Floyd more nervous than preforming, he really didn't want to let his brothers down; as he's seen them preform before he was able to join on the scene. So while JD ranted, Spruce worked out, and Clay was fitting into his costume, Floyd went out on a needed walk. That's when he found you;

You were stood up top a mountain cliff near the Pop troll village, looking down with your majestic eyes and ears relaxed down by your side. Floyd stood by the village though hid in the shade of the plants nearby to watch. He didn't want to scare you off, especially since he's never seen anything quite like you. You seemed memorized by the lights of the Pop troll village, if not maybe a little intoxicated by them; like a moth to the flame. Floyd was memorized by your shiny coat, which he could barely see against the night sky and the bright colors of the village. You didn't seem to notice him at all as you laid down at that cliff, crossing your paws and laying your muzzle down on them. Floyd wasn't sure why but watching you watching the lights of the village calmed his nerves. Even though it was still a little nerve racking thinking that an animal so big knows were the village was; an animal who could possibly eat Trolls. Yet, that thought was quickly wavering out of his mind the more passive you seemed. @!; Floyd almost missed the show that night, Spruce had to go find him before JD blew a fuse. He was questioned like hell the few seconds before the show and then afterwards, yet he couldn't exactly tell his brothers that he saw an animal watching the village and that's what he was doing. They would be both over worried and a little relentless in scolding him for getting so close to something that could eat trolls. His absence of an answer, and his general dodging of the brothers questions (when that was so not like Floyd) led them all to assume that Floyd met a Troll that had caught his eye. Floyd tried to protest against this, yet was a little flustered at the fact that all his brothers seemed to jump on that conclusion train so quickly. So, that only solidified his brother's theories more and thus began the hunt. All his brothers kept an extra eye on Floyd, trying to see who the lucky Troll had been who caught there ever so sensitive brother's eyes. Despite all their "sneaky" tracking and slight stalking, they came up with nothing. Floyd was determined to let them not know what, or maybe who, he actually saw that night. So he didn't see you again until his brothers gave up on their little hunt and let Floyd to his own devices. Especially after he almost messed up a show due to nerves from not being able to go out on a walk without his brother's bombardment; JD wasn't happy. 3 months after first seeing you, Floyd was able to catch a glimpse of you again. Before a show, he looked out the window (not needing to go out on a walk that night) and saw your figure again in the distance on the same hill. You were relaxed again, laying down and looking intently towards the Village. In some weird sense, Floyd had a funny thought that you were here to listen to the concert; seeing as he didn't see you on any other night than concert nights. Yet, he shook that thought out of his head really quick, not thinking that you could like Brozone music. Not that it was because you weren't a Troll, but because he thought it was too loud for your ears; he's read somewhere that animal ears tended to be more sensitive than Troll ears. But then why would you be so close to the Village? The thought stuck in Floyd's mind all throughout the performance and when he checked if you were still at the cliff after the show, you were gone. He couldn't tell if it was because of the noise or because the show had ended; but he felt a little disheartened.

@!; Floyd would play this one-sided game of eye-spy for months before he spotted a night when you weren't you. He had began to make it a habit to leave you a little plate of food (well little for you) before every Brozone performance. His personal thank you for watching the show despite your (maybe) sensitives ears. He was going to go place the plate of food at the top of the cliff when he stopped midway through his hike to see a Troll standing at the top of the cliff. At least, it looked like a Troll? Yet they seemed taller, even more so when Floyd slowly approached closer. Your hair also was more abundant than other Trolls, even for adults. He was cautious as he approached you, keeping the plate of food close to him as he tried to scope out who you were before he interacted. Yet before he could figure out who you were, you snapped your head around to stare into the dead of night . . . directly at him. Floyd froze, not sure if you could see him or not and not wanting to find out. Though it was light you weren't even a Troll for a second, taking in a sniff before your hair stood up for a moment; prickling like a cat's hair standing up when frightened. Slowly you approached him with heavy footsteps, your height slowly growing in the moonlight as your shadow was drawn out. For a moment Floyd thought he was as good as dead. He didn't know what to do! Frazzled, he quickly shoved out the plate of food he had indented for his friend and not this stranger about to commit (possible) cannibalism. And that's when he heard your footsteps come to a stop and a heavy huff from someone's nose hit the top of his head, causing him to cautiously open one eye. And he felt like fainting as soon as he did that. Though he couldn't help opening both eyes in complete terror seeing a Troll tower over him in an unnatural height. Your eyes pierced down at him, their glow in the moonlight somehow familiar yet Floyd could not piece it together at this moment of panic. "Please don't eat me!" Floyd blurted out, the only thing between him and you being a plate of food. Yet you didn't answer, at least not right away. Your silence was as terrifying as your glare and staggering height. "I promise you I don't taste good!-" The words fell out before Floyd had even realized he had said them, watching with terror as you leant down. He wasn't sure what you were doing, but he hoped it wasn't serving your next meal's horror before deciding whether or not you should eat him. Yet there was something in your eyes that softened, a small smile that seemed to creep onto your lips. And for once after meeting you in this form, Floyd felt like he wasn't going to get mauled. Which was a good thing, a really good thing... For him at least. "So you're the one who's been leaving me food!" Your voice was not at all how he imagined it, as it seemed to carry some sort of friendliness he's not even heard from some Trolls. It was also a bit rougher, your English oddly unperfected for a Troll for the age Floyd guessed you were. "I-.. uh, what?" Though what did you mean Floyd was leaving you food? Maybe you were confusing him for someone else, or maybe you were eating the food he intended for his friend. Either way he tried to clear the confusion, "I'm sorry no, I don't think so. I've been leaving food here for.." "Yes, for me." You interrupted Floyd before he could finish, giving him a rather big grin. Yet, no matter how friendly you seemed, your words caused him to become that more confuddled. Even more so when you held out your hands flat, as though you were expected Floyd to just hand you the plate ... really incorrectly. He thought for a brief moment that you may be related to the animal that perches itself at the cliffside, though he didn't think too long on that possibility; as would it even be possible?

Either way, to save some trouble for now, Floyd carefully handed you the plate of food; watching as you held it from the bottom flat in your hands and grinned brighter before rushing off to the side of the cliff. He wasn't sure if he should follow you or not. "Come, friend! We eat to show!" You gestured for Floyd to follow as you sat at the iconic cliff he's seen the animal so many times. And despite his hesitation, and his logicality telling him not to, he deiced to join the Troll. I mean, what could be the harm? Floyd almost missed his performance that day. JD wasn't happy yet, oddly enough, something inside Floyd made him rather indifferent. Not uncaring, because he always cared about his brothers feelings and letting down JD was last on his list; yet, he didn't care as much as he should have. And that caught him by suprise. He wondered if it had to do something with you...

@!; The day the band broke up, Floyd went to seek you first. You two had grown close after the countless nights you spent upon the cliff, chatting and eating. Floyd just couldn't stand being able to leave without giving you a proper goodbye, you have been his closest friend outside his family after all. He found you lower on the cliff this day, still stalking in your animal form. Your ears were completely pinned back, and he was sure you had saw what had happened during that performance; it was the biggest disaster storm ever. "Hey! H-" Floyd didn't even have to call you twice before you perked up, snapping your attention over to him. He grew sheepish seeing your sudden smile, and he could only guess you had been utterly worried about him since the performance. Though he didn't expect you to be so worried you would bound towards him on all fours, causing him to yelp and quickly brace for impact. Yet, you never hit, and Floyd heard as you skidded yourself to a stop right in front of him and plopped down on your bottom. Letting out an excited yelp before licking him once, then twice. Causing him to laugh and try to push your snout away, a silent signal for you to turn back into a Troll. Which you didn't seem to get the hint for instantly, as you licked him thrice before standing up and twirling in a circle. Laughing, Floyd covered his eyes and let you turn back, opening them only when he heard your voice again; "Floyd! What in the hell happened out there?! One minute you guys were doing fine and it seemed like-" Your voice was as lovely as ever, and Floyd instantly felt a pang in his heart knowing he wouldn't be able to hear it as often anymore. His face became rather gloomy at that sudden realization he hadn't thought of before now. Maybe visiting you wasn't- no, he can't think like that! You deserved the truth as much as Branch did. He can't simply walk off and keep you sitting here, watching and wondering where he had gone for years on end. That wasn't right. "(y/n)!" Floyd jolted at the suddenness of his voice, and how firm it sounded. He didn't mean for his words to come out so harsh, though your ranting didn't do much to help his heart... or the decision he knew he had to make. Oh and your eyes, the way they shone in the moonlight. Floyd could see how startled he had made you, as he's never used such a voice with you; yet it had done the job and hushed you up, even for now. "I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to scare you. I just-" Floyd's lip twitched as he thought for the easiest way to blow this to you. The easiest way to let you down after all the nights you had spent together. The easiest way for him to accept everything that was happening and everything he had to do and everything that needed to be done.. but oh poor Branch and poor you, neither of you deserved this- "Floyd.. it's okay." Floyd was brought back to his thoughts, snapped back with the feeling of your hands grabbing his and your voice echoing in his ears. He opened his seized eyes and glanced up at yours; you were leaning down again, and Floyd laughed through the tears he didn't realize were spilling down. "You're doing it again.." Floyd mumbled, his voice wobbly. Your hands raced to his cheeks, cupping them and undoubtably feeling the hot, wet tears streaming down as you began to clear them. Floyd dropped his hands to his sides, they felt all to heavy right now. "No you're doing it again." Your voice was uncharacteristically steady, none if it's usual fluctuating like a dog excited to see it's owner. "You're overthinking and... and thinking of everyone else before you think about yourself! Floyd, whatever you're going to say to me, whatever you're keeping in that mind of yourself, you're going to tell me now, okay? And you're going to tell me and you're not going to worry about how I feel and you're going to be firm on your decision... because you're strong and we're friends and I won't be mad with you no matter what you tell me."

@!; That night, Floyd knew, for sure, that he was in love with you. And that made telling you all that harder as his heart yelled at his brain to stay, but his brain knew that they couldn't go back on their choice. He had to leave, even if for a week or month or year. He knew he needed space from the Village and everyone inside.. but not you and Branch. Defiantly not you. And oh the broken look in your eyes got him, but the way you tried to smile through it and agree that the space is what he needed made him fall even more in love. You were so strong, you kept to your word... Maybe Floyd could stay one more night. And he did, he cuddled up with you for his last night in the Village; you both watched the stars, all cozied up in your hair. And god, has Floyd never felt a Troll's' hair so soft. He almost couldn't pull himself out from it in the morning when you were still clinging onto him, trapping him with both your body and your hair. He felt tempted to doze back to sleep, yet knew he had to leave now (while he still had the will power) then wait before you woke up. He knew if he saw your broken look again, that look in your eyes that you could never hide, he couldn't bring himself to leave. So when you woke up in the morning, you found yourself alone; completely alone in a middle of your blanket made of your hair. Floyd had left before you had woke up and you would find yourself sulking in that position for longer than you would have thought.

@!; You didn't see Floyd again, yet you heard from him up till a few years into his exploration of the unknown; journeying to find himself in the chaotic world beyond the village. You didn't leave from the outskirts of the Pop village, as that's were you had figured out you could thrive the most without interacting with other Trolls or animals. So when Floyd's letters began to run dry, you knew it wasn't because he didn't know where to send it. No that's never been a problem before, especially with the bugs that were used to deliver the messages so they never went through Troll post. You had first thought that he had forgotten to write a letter that day and he would send you one tomorrow. He didn't. You then figured he was just somewhere where he couldn't right or get a bug to deliver the letter. But after a month of sitting and waiting anxiously, you figured that couldn't be the reason either. Floyd never stayed in a place for this long, and the letter he had sent you last made it sound like he was going to a place where he could continue to send letters. Another option came to mind, what if Floyd had just stopped sending letter because he just grew tired of you? He found someone else who captured his attention better than you did! Who could write in pretty cursive and spell words and speak correctly. Who could bake for him pies and cupcakes, who could sing and dance with him in the proper way that a Troll could. That was the first day you ever felt truly alone ever since Floyd left. Sure, you missed him dearly; Missed his smile and his caring ways and his company but never did you ever feel truly lonely. The type of lonely that made you upset and aggravated. The type of lonely that stung more than a throne in your paw, or a bee sting. The type of lonely that made you think back on all the memories you had with Floyd and made you think two different thoughts all at once: What was the point? Can I get those times back? It was torture. Two months of agonizing torture that ate you up inside with no remorse.

@!; Two months inside that horrible diamond prison, Floyd was finally free. Sure he had some white in his hair now, and felt fatigue come onto him easier when singing, but he was free; Free and with his brothers heading back to the Pop Troll village where Brozone (kind of reestablished) was going to chill for a minute before maybe going back their separate ways. "Oh my god, did we ever tell you that Floyd use to have a crush in the village when he was younger?!" JD turned around from the console of his caterpillar-like trailer, a snicker plastered right across his face. His comment instantly flipped the attention of everyone else, who had been lounging around the 'living space' of the trailer and chatting about nothing exciting. At least, nothing exciting to John Dory. "Oh! I almost forgot about that!" Bruce started as Branch looked between his brothers, noticing as Floyd let out a small groan and covered his face. "Oh not this gain..." Floyd mumbled, though not completely under his breath. "What?! JD you have to be joking right now!" Poppy jumped to a start, Viva seemed to be right beside her; jumping to her sister's side, placing her hands on Poppy's shoulders with such interest you would think JD had just brought up party plans. "Oh I'm so not joking." JD couldn't help but laugh, crossing his arms. "Floyd used to sneak off before the start of every show and see his little crush! It was so cute." And there was the teasing tone that Floyd could never forget. He hadn't hoped they didn't bring up this topic, but now he wished he had begged on his knees to anything above that his brothers had forgotten. "Oooh~ Floyd! Who was the lucky troll?" Viva questioned, mirroring her sister's excitement yet with a slight more mature feeling. "Well-" Floyd couldn't even begin before JD took over again. "We never got the chance to see them!" "Oh yeah, and we tried hard too. Stalked Floyd anytime he went out to see if we could find any sort of glimpse on who this Troll was. But we never found them." Clay informed, leaning back against the couch as an amused glint crossed his eyes; he glanced over to Floyd, who was still hiding his head. "Can we PLEASE change the topic?!" Floyd begged, but he guessed that his humiliation was much too entertaining to his brothers (mostly JD). "Nope! Never got the chance to see them. It was like- the biggest mystery in all of BroZone history." JD made this sound more ominous than it needed to be. More mysterious than a unclosed murder case that was more boggling than answerable. His serious tone didn't help it either. "Oh my god, Viva!-" Poppy turned to her sister, who held a knowing look. "To the clue board?" "To the clue board! Don't worry we'll find this troll." Poppy exploded like a star as Viva and her rushed over to the clue board that Branch had set up. They didn't waste time before they began to excitedly chat over possibly candidates and theories. Floyd felt more embarrassed than the day his brothers had started that whole mess, and he wasn't sure how that was even possible! Branch watched the two sisters for a moment before turning over to his brothers, thoroughly confused, "Wait... why did no one tell me this?!"

@!; Floyd wasn't sure how he would break this news to his brothers, but all he knew is that he needed to get to you first. He knew you just as you knew him, and he knew his disappearance would have a cause for concern... or maybe alarm or distress. Everything that Floyd didn't want you to feel when you thought about him because he should be your safe space and you had been his. "Guys! I'll be right back." Floyd shouted to his brothers when the caterpillar bus had came to a stop in front of the Pop village; And Floyd was sure he literally flew out the door with more force than necessary before he began to run down the village. "Bring them home for dinner!" Floyd could hear JD's sly remark before he was no longer in earshot of the van. Though he was sure he could hear something about "Kids growing up too fast" and some shared lighthearted laughter. Floyd couldn't care at the moment; not when all his brain buzzed about was finding you and making sure you were okay. What if you had gotten hurt during your time of no communication. What if you began to think that Floyd no longer cared for you or that something had happened to your or- Floyd's mind raced faster than he could keep up with and it felt like he was no longer racing against time yet against his own thoughts; not thinking about the fact that he had crossed the village in record time or that his brothers watched him rush straight into the woods by that cliff he had found a friend on and then love. That cliff where he had stargazed with you and shared thoughts he hadn't shared with anyone else. That cliff where you had showed him your way of life and let him closer than any other Troll had been with you. That cliff were everything happened in a secret silence that felt just right. That cliff were time seemed to stop. That cliff where he first found your eyes and saw your face last when he left. That cliff.. That cliff. That cliff!- Floyd was jolted away from the edge of the cliff, something he didn't realize he was just about to run off due to being lost in his emotion. A firm grip on the back of his pants had yanked him away, throwing him down onto the floor as now someone was between him and that cliff. "Are you crazy?! You were about to throw yourself off!-" Floyd didn't expect his baby brother's voice to shout at him and snap him out of his flurry of thoughts. He didn't expect Branch to be the one to stand there between him and the cliff. It was meant to be you. Not that he was meaning to throw himself off a cliff to find you, he would never put that type of trauma onto anyone or even think about such as thing. But you were meant to be here, meant to greet him on this cliff, meant to... where were you? Floyd didn't answer his brother as he scrambled onto his feet, numb from the running. He didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to care. He began to look around frantically, up and down the cliff, left and right. He rushed to some bushed and trees and tried looking more in depth as Branch stood there; never having seen his brother so disorientated and frazzled. "Floyd? Floyd!" Branch tried to get his brother's attention, "Floyd what are you looking for?" You. Where were you? Floyd didn't realize he didn't answer his brother; he had thought he had, but he didn't. He simply jumped off a rock and to the lower side of the cliff before he continued his search. Branch cautiously followed him, slowly lowering himself down from the rock and onto the ground. He watched Floyd look everywhere before Floyd jolted to a stop and stared in front of him. "(Y/N)!" It was a pained cry as Floyd rushed forward, pushing himself off of a tree to give himself a boost. "Floyd!" Branch yelled, following his brother in a panic. "Floyd you can't run into the forest around the village they're dangerous! Flo-" And Branch paused seeing who his brother approached. "Floyd!"

Floyd had no hesitation rushing over to an enormous beast that laid in the middle of a field, soaking in the sun. The beast had clear patches of its fur bitten off, and Branch couldn't tell whether it was self inflicted due to nerves or if it was from a fight. It perked its ears, then its head as it heard Floyd' shouting. It scanned the field and Branch felt himself rushing over to his brother. "FLOYD!" Branch's yell fell short as he saw the beast jump to its paws and rush over to his brother. Branch felt adrenaline rush through his body as he was sure he was about to watch his brother get eaten by a rapid animal. And Branch wasn't in range to catch the beast's muzzle with his hair, and Branch was sure that Floyd wouldn't attack it for whatever reason, and- wait... what? Branch kicked up dirt as he skidded to a stop, watching at the beast popped into an unusually tall Troll who grabbed Floyd in bear hug before spinning the two around. Branch watched with so much bewilderment that he questioned what JD had put in the drink he had given him. He had to be seeing things. That beast didn't just transform into a troll, right? Branch let out an airy bit of laughter as he watched the taller Troll trip on their own legs, causing the two of them to crash down and laugh loudly. Laugh like long lost lovers or crushes who had just found each other again, some sort of star-crossed lovers situation you would only find in books. Branch let out a small huff before carefully walking over to Floyd and you on the floor, laughing like maniacs. "What happened to you?!" Floyd reached up to cup your cheeks, worry rushing to his eyes as he noticed the bits of your hair that were fried and clearly chewed off. "No! No what happened to you?!" Sure, maybe you should have answered Floyd's question before asking one but you were too worried! This man disappears off the face of the planet for 2 months with no explanation then comes back like nothing ever happened?! You wouldn't stand for it, nor would you sit or lay for it either. Your hands rushed up to his, cupping over his hands which were cupping your cheeks. "I asked the question question first!" Quipped Floyd with a cheeky, beaming grin. Oh, how you've missed that grin so much. You could just squish his cheeks and kiss him at this moment. "I'll tell you what happened to me when you explain what happened to you." "Dea-" "How about you both explain what is happening?" Branch cut in, standing nearby with crossed arms and an amused smile. Floyd shot his head up, you simply turned to the side, to see that smile and oh- Floyd for a moment thought Branch was about to use this for some sort of blackmail against their brothers. "Branch!" Floyd sat up with a startle, having forgotten his brother had been here... and that he kind of saved Floyd from running off a cliff earlier. "Who are you?" Floyd heard you ask from under him and he knew he had a lot of explaining to do in that moment. But hey, if all he had to do was introduce you to his family, and hope they would accept you for your differences, then he would do that. He would do that and more to be able to be next to you, in your arms and in your reach. He would do anything to be able to keep you close. And next time he left the village, Floyd was not leaving without you.

@!; BONUS SNIPIT

"Wait, so you're telling me you got captured by some evil green-haired people who put you into a glass bottle made of diamonds and the only way you escapes is because your family made the 'perfect family harmony'?" You asked Floyd with a childlike wonder and a mature skepticism. You both were laying in Floyd's bed, inside his bod, as crickets chirped outside a sweet melody of the night. Floyd knew it sounded unbelievable but, "I'm telling you, this story is 100 percent real." Floyd couldn't help but keep in his laughter at your expressive wide eyes. Taking advantaged of your bewilderment of the situation, Floyd attacked you by snuggling closer; wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, resting his head against your chest. He didn't have to look up at you to know you were cocking your eyebrow up in a questioning way, trying to think the logistics of the story over in your head. Yet you still wrapped your arms around Floyd's back, your hair stretching out to wrap the both of you in its fuzzy and cozy warmth. Floyd let out a deep sigh, you felt it against your chest; he missed these moments, and you did too. Moments that seemed to stand still, yet not in a boring way. In a way where Floyd got to soak up every second of being with you, and you got to soak up every second with him. Where you could feel like time was racing by, yet checked and it had only been a few minutes and you had more time to cuddle and just talk and be together than you had thought. Moments like these were the best feeling in the world. "I still don't believe you." You jokingly poke Floyd in the back, causing him to yelp and arch away from your pointy nail. You watched as he looked up at you with the most playfully challenging look; an eyebrow cocked upwards and his eyes glittering in the small light of the dimmed lamp. "Well it happened! I don't know what to tell you." He sassed back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner before he laid his head back against your chest. You tightened your arms around Floyd, which caused him to smile softly. No matter what happened, what had happened. Floyd was back now and neither of you were leaving each others side again; at least not now or in the near future unless it was forced.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

#brozone x reader #floyd trolls x reader #trolls band together #floyd x reader #floyd trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls 3 #trolls #trolls dreamworks #brozone #clay trolls #trolls world tour #queen poppy #trolls branch

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starryknight-tarot · 8 months

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𝓦𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝔀𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓪𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓯𝓾𝓽𝓾𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮

pile 1 -- > pile 2 pile 3 -- > pile 4

my masterlist<3 . paid readings

Hello beautiful souls✨ Today we will be looking into what you will love about your future spouse! I know this is really late but I have been a busy bee recently and trying to set up paid personal readings for yall. Remember to meditate, take a deep breath and pick whatever pile calls to you the most. My readings are meant for everyone, no matter what sexuality or identity you are. Since this is a general reading, make sure to take what resonates and leave what doesn't. The artist for pictures is @tnk_gr on instagram.

Pile 1

Cards: Ten of Swords, Strength, The Tower, Eight of Swords rx, Two of Wands, Fours of Wands, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Cups Back of the Deck: Knight of Wands

Pile 1, you will love your fs's vunerablity. You may have been surrounded by a lot of people that don't like to express themselves and share their emotions. These people have even encouraged you to be emotionally closed off as well. But your fs is the complete opposite. A very emotional individual, they know they can rely on you when they are struggling and it will be refreshing to see someone be so open and honest about how they are feeling. I am getting that for some of you, you may originally be uncomfortable about how they express themselves because you were taught to hold back your feelings and keep them locked up. But your fs will teach you that it is healthy and normal to express your feelings when you are having a hard time, and to share your feelings and opinions. You will see your fs as a strong and brave person for being able to express themselves the way they do since it can be really hard to admit when you are struggling. I see this connection as a very healing and healthy connection. Your fs is like a beaming beautiful light in the darkness for you Pile 1. I am getting that they will have a shining smile and a very contagious energy. You will love how your fs will encourage you to do things you never thought you could do. The things that used to scare and intimidate you suddenly don't feel so scary when they are around. Scared of rocking climbing? When your fs is cheering you on like your own personal cheerleader, you feel like you can achieve anything. But I don't feel like this courage will be only when they are around. They just help you realize that you are strong, powerful, and can do anything you put your mind to. Ugh so cute Pile 1. I am also hearing that they won't push you to do anything you aren't comfortable with and will take their time with you when you may not be ready to tackle certain things. Overall Pile 1, you will love how fun and silly and encouraging your fs is. I also feel like they will give the best hugs and will know just how to seduce you. Last tiny note spirit left with me is that you may love their fat wallet LMAO (also heard some 18+ messages but it ain't that kind of reading (,,>﹏<,,)

Advice Cards:

A change in attitude towards the greater good could be beneficial Your guides and teachers are telling you that they hear you and are helping You are wiser than you think You are greater than your story Learn through reversals. Hold the opposing viewpoint for insight Release what you do not need. Let go of some extraneous aspect of your life

Channeled Songs:

Pile 2 Cards: The World, Ten of Wands, Five of Wands, The Magician, King of Swords rx, Three of Cups, Four of Wands, Queen of Pentacles Back of the Deck: Knight of Wands

Ngl I am getting that some of yall are thinking of your celebrity crush when you read these tarot readings and I ain't gonna confirm or deny that your fs is your celebrity crush, but I am saying it ain't unlikely with this pile. Of course this is only for a very small amount of you, but I felt it strong enough to mention. If not a literal celebrity, your fs feels like a celebrity to you. They may be really popular or have a lot of friends. I heard frat boy but that isn't for everyone. For you Pile 2, I feel like you will love how your fs treats you. I feel like your fs will act a certain way around other people and try to be chill and cool but as soon they see you they just melt and just act like a lost puppy. You bring out a side of them that not a lot of people get to see and you love that. I also feel like your fs will do big gestures for you like a big bouquet of your favorite flowers or write you love songs. It's giving Jackson from Sex Education vibes, especially when he asked out Maeve (sorry if you haven't watched it). Spirit keeps telling that they are really attractive and that you will find them very attractive. I am hearing some of yall will wanna draw them. I feel like yall will have a really close connection, you will probably be really good friends before dating, maybe even childhood friends. You will love the hard work and enthusiasm they put into the things they are passionate about. Your fs may be really artistic and talented, they have a lot of potential to achieve great things. I am also hearing that they are really compassionate and caring, especially about the people around them. They wanna make a difference in the world and help people that need help and help deal with problems that we have struggled. They really care about the Earth, they may even own a few plants and take care of the regularly. They are very ambitious and thoughtful and you absolutely swoon over it. But I also feel like they are just a really charming person, it's almost hard not to love them.

Advice Cards:

Ask and you shall receive Act on what you know It's time to try something new! Give yourself your own approval Be alert for your opportunity Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off

Channeled Songs:

(specifically at 2:47 lol)

Pile 3 Cards: Page of Cups, Eight of Wands rx, Judgement rx, The Star, Three of Swords rx, The Sun, Ten of Wands, Knight of Cups Back of the Deck: Ten of Swords

Pile 3, for your fs, I am hearing that you will be in love with their whole personality overall. In your eyes, they are just such a beautiful individual, someone that shines brighter than the Sun and radiates the energy of the most beautiful star in the solar system. You can tell how important your relationship will be for them and they are just the most loyal puppy. They are the kind of partner you make videos of, showing how you know they won't ever cheat on you. I really think you are the only person on your fs's mind, running around rent free and they never try to hide it. Your fs gives off such cute introvert vibes, like you wanna squish their cheeks cute. They seem really shy and quiet but I feel like you may wanna take them places, I am seeing specifically clubs or just places with bright colors. But I feel like your fs will let themselves go and feel free around you. They may be a little squishy in the face or just a very squishy person lol. You will also really love their body, spirit keeps showing me flashs of someone's body, specially their arms. They seem very muscular and veiny. I am getting such gentle giant energy from your fs. I keep seeing Superman from the show My Adventures with Superman. You might also really like their chest, they may have a big chest area. The conversations you and your fs will have are gonna flow so well, like you've never met someone that has connected with you on this level. You will have a lot in common. I feel like you have interests that you think a lot of people will judge you for but your fs will never judge your interests and always show so much interest in the things you wanna say. You may be a talker and I feel like they are a listener, always wanted to hear what's happening next in your life. You will love how they take the time to get to know you, they don't wanna rush things with you, they just want things to move at their own pace and let your relationship flow naturally. I am also getting you will love how close they are with your family and friends, everyone loves them and loves you guys together. (my goodness I also got 18+ message for this pile but it ain't that kinda reading (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) )

Advice Cards:

You are divinely protected. Remind yourself how safe you are It's time to challenge old beliefs Keep the faith. Stay intentioned. Your perseverance will pay off Seek to understand from a place of connection rather than separation You are intuitively gifted. Trust your guidance Your child self needs your attention

Channeled Songs:

Pile 4 Cards: Ten of Swords rx, Ten of Pentacles, Five of Cups, The Chariot, Seven of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles rx, The Devil rx, Knight of Pentacles Back of the Deck: The Moon

Honestly Pile 4, I feel like you are the type of person to prefer someone "bad" over someone who is "good" cause you want adventure or something, and then get your heart broken by a real bad boy/girl. Well I feel like your fs will actually fulfill your bad boy/girl craving without breaking your heart. Like your fs is like your exact type but almost even better cause you realize they are better for you then what you usually like. Your fs is giving strong Alhaitham from Genshin Impact vibes. They are really smart and studious. You will really like how their brain works and how they seem to know everything, like they could talk about things you don't understand all day and you would still find it the most interesting thing ever. This connection is giving such Y/N in a fan fiction vibes my goodness. They are also probably pretty well off or make really good money and they like to gift you expensive things. Your fs seems really mysterious but I feel like they are caring in their own way. Like one day you think they are upset but they were actually just feeling shy that day or worried that you saw their their plans for a date. Which leads me to my next point which is that I feel like you will love how your fs shows their love for you. I don't think they will express themselves very much but they will surprise you with the cutest little date ever or get you something you were talking about to show that they listen. Like, I keep seeing the cutest picnic in the most aesthetically beautiful place and it's all so cute and you just melt like knees are BUCKLED. I also feel like they will have the CUTEST flustered face that only you ever see and have that effect on them. They are a secret simp and you eat it up. Your fs is also an amazing cook, they make the most delicious food you have ever seen and it tastes even better. Your fs is someone you can see yourself growing old with, starting a beautiful family, and settling down somewhere quiet. I heard "I feel like anything is possible with you by my side.". You guys will compliment each other really well and I am honestly living for this connection. You have strong sun and moon vibes. I see yall bickering playful but it's never in a mean way, your words are always filled with pure love.

Advice Cards:

No better time exists than right now Relax and feel good. You deserve more joy! It is important to ask for help Complete the project or task. Something is calling for closure You need to make the first move Give up resistance in your current situation Awareness opens a field of possibility in your life

Channeled Songs:

Thanks for tuning in₊‧.°.⋆🫧•˚₊‧⋆.

I also wanna thank yall so much for the messages you leave on my readings. I tear up all the time from the things yall write. It means so much that these messages reach you well and resonate with you! I hope this reading resonates well with you!

(っ◔◡◔)っ ❤

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rainerioun · 1 month

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𝖧𝖮𝖶 𝖣𝖮 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖸 𝖵𝖨𝖤𝖶 𝖸𝖮𝖴? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hello! I thought I'd try and give a more in-depth reading. Interestingly, some of the piles seem to be similar. Perhaps this reading is meant for just a few people. I tried to keep it pretty general and unbiased whether we're talking about platonic or romantic connections, but it seems like there are hints of romantic feelings in all of them. However, if you're inquiring about a friendship or something similar, feel free to take what resonates and ignore the rest. <3

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST

PILE ONE

How Do They View You? King of Wands | Queen of Swords | Death.

To start, this person respects you heavily. They perceive you as someone exuding confidence and leading by example. You've influenced them at the very least. If you're experiencing change or have recently undergone a transformation, they want you to know they're proud of you.

How Do They View You? Dragon : Seeing One's Most True Self, Balancing Ego. | Oyster : Patient, Secret-Keeper, Hiding Inner Treasures.

They see the real you, not just the image you project. If you're shy or uncertain, they want to remind you not to underestimate yourself, and to embrace your genuine beauty and intelligence. They know that everyone else wants to see it too. I believe that they might perceive your confidence as a sort of façade.

How Do They View You? Trickster — Light : Transcending Convention, Stuffiness and Predictable Behavior. Shadow : Manipulating Others Through Duplicity.

I didn't view this card negatively; it felt more like confirmation of what I said earlier. This person understands that you don't reveal everything and perhaps even play a role, though it may not be intentional. They recognize your tendency to use humor as a shield, but they wish you would let them in a bit more because they can see through you already.

How Do They Feel Around You? Determination, Balance, Cleanse, Magic, Protection.

When this person is around you, they experience a sense of balance and comfort. They feel a protective instinct towards you, given what they know about you, or vice versa. They long to express their love and appreciation more openly and receive it in return. Reach out to them more often!

Additional. Photograph : Looking at Your Photos, Missing You, Nostalgia, Make New Memories.

They miss you if there's any current separation or lack of communication. They might even be keeping an eye on you, whether through social media or mutual connections, just to ensure you're doing alright.

Extra: Aquarius, Change, 10, Unique, Libra, Scorpio, Emotions, Bittersweet, Funny, Summer Blues, Phone Call.

Alien Blues : Vundabar | Fine Line : Harry Styles | I Wanna Be Yours : Artic Monkeys.

PILE TWO

How Do They View You? Ten of Wands [Reversed] | Nine of Swords [Reversed] | Knight of Pentacles.

This person acknowledges your ambition but finds it amusing that you can also be a bit absent-minded. It's not meant as an insult but more of a playful tease. They believe you sometimes overlook the risks around you because you're so captivated and excited by what lies ahead, which can come off as slightly immature. It reminds them of a naive child who might need a gentle nudge in the right direction, so you don't leap off the cliff hoping to grab the sun. I can picture someone stumbling clumsily while the other bursts into loud laughter.

How Do They View You? Moth : Impulsive, Hasty, Wishful | Bee : Earnest, Hardworking, Democratic.

I find this dynamic incredibly endearing. They see you as someone goofy or even whimsical. You're sensitive and vibrant, drawing people to you effortlessly, which they appreciate. Sometimes, it seems like they want to slow you down a bit so you don't scurry off too quickly. You give off a jittery vibe at times.

How Do They View You? Rescuer — Light : Provides Strength and Support to Others in Crisis. Acts out of Love with no Expectation of Reward. Shadow : Assumes that the Rescued will Reciprocate. Goddess — Light : The Feminine Expressed through Wisdom, Nature, Life Force and Sensuality. Shadow : Exploitation of the Female Nature and Form.

This person admires your kindness and charm. I can picture them giggling nonstop whenever they're with you. It's as if you have no worries, just frolicking through life carefree.

How Do They Feel Around You? Sweetness, Success, Rejection.

Once more, you're incredibly sweet to them. Normally, they feel content in your company, but there might be moments when they feel rejected. If they've made a move and you've turned them down, that's the reason. They need time to move on and accept that boundary if don't reciprocate their feelings. If not, it's because they've been dropping hints left and right, and you're just too oblivious to pick up on them.

Additional. Stabbed in the Back : Heartbreak, Pain, Separation, Shocking Attack. Camera : Remininscing, Keepsake, Perception, Learn from the Past, Make Memories. Coffee Cup : Meeting and Conversing, Savoring the Moment, Feeling Uplifted, Friendship.

Yeah, they're definitely feeling a bit disheartened that their attempts to win you over aren't hitting the mark or are just going unnoticed. But hey, you don't owe them anything, so no need to feel guilty. Regardless, they want to keep being part of your life, cherishing the friendship you've both formed.

Extra : Pisces, Indecisive, Kind, 7, Individuality, Unique, Communication, Taurus, Leo, Cancer, Junebug, Wheel, Fields.

Dangerously In Love : Beyoncé. | Hanging Your Picture Up To Dry : Cut Worms.

[18+, SUGGESTIVE.]

PILE THREE

How Do They View You? Ace of Swords, Six of Swords, Wheel of Fortune [Reversed].

I wasn't anticipating this kind of reading when I shuffled the cards. I almost reshuffled to get a more generic and 'safe' result, but I decided against it. It seems this person likes you a little more than they probably should. They perceive you as someone incredibly self-assured and inspiring, maybe even a bit out of their league. Yet, despite feeling like they're chasing you, they don't seem to mind the playful challenge and are willing to put in the extra effort to break through your defenses.

How Do They View You? Cheetah : Solar Force, Action, Achievement. | Starfish : Beautiful, Alluring, Superficial or Shallow.

This seems pretty clear-cut, lol. They view you as someone with the potential to reach any goal, maybe because your appearance tends to influence people without you even trying. They're strongly attracted to you, but they're also aware they're not alone in admiring you.

How Do They View You? Queen — Light : Radiates the Regal Feminine. Uses Her Benevolent Authority to Protect Others. Shadow : Becomes Arrogant When Authority Is Challenged. Controlling and Demanding. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a Journey of Personal Empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a False Sense of Heroism.

They definitely put you on a pedestal in their mind. Sometimes you can get a little sassy or assertive because you're clear about what you want, and they find that irresistible. They truly appreciate the natural authority you exude.

How Do They Feel Around You? Passion, Trust, Hunger.

Do I really need to elaborate? For my own sake, I'll keep it brief. You light a fire within them, and they feel like they cannot control such feelings.

Additional. The Snake : Competition, Enemy, Clever, Malicious, Look Over Your Shoulder, The Other Woman. Kisses : Unconditionally Loving, Giving and Receiving Affection, Falling in Love.

As I mentioned, they feel this urge to compete for your affection with others. They might even experience a twinge of jealousy seeing someone else getting your attention while they're so invested in you. My advice is, if this is a secret admirer or a third-party situation, it's best to tell them where they stand. If you're not interested, it's important not to lead them on. However, if polyamory is part of your dynamic, then there's no need to worry about what I'm saying; it seems like they enjoy the thrill of the chase.

Extra: 6, Virgo, Possessive, Cancer, Fussy, Moon, Emotions, Strong Needs, Candles, Stack of Papers, Show Off, Linger, Lust.

Fields of Elation : Sleep Token | Somebody Else : Bad Omens | Lost in the Fire : The Weeknd.

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deathbecomesthem · 5 months

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Roomies 4 +18 ONLY

Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader | 2.2K - Previous Part

*This series will/does contain smut, angst, and fluff. Each chapter will have its own warnings for any potential triggering contents.

This chapter contains some angsty feelings. The aftermath of some interesting choices between best friends.

---

The alarm is unnecessary. You didn’t sleep. You laid in this bed and let the dread build. At 3:28 in the morning, you put your vibrator back in its spot in the top drawer of your bedside table. It just laid next to you for hours, as if acknowledging it meant you had to acknowledge the fact that you and Eddie… what exactly? You don’t even know. It’s Eddie.

It doesn’t matter right now, because that alarm means you have to get up and take a shower. It means you have to get to the coffee shop and start the mundane tasks involved in over-caffeinating the general college town population. It means you can sneak out of this tiny, two-bedroom apartment before Eddie even wakes up. Thank god for the opening shift.

Except that you hear the distinct sound of the door next to your own open at exactly the same moment yours creaks open. Time stands still, both of you stare at each other like deer caught in headlights. Neither fight nor flight, only freeze. And then you realize you’re dressed in a too small bath towel and nothing else.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry,” you crouch a little, trying to get more coverage from the faded blue terry cloth rectangle you have wrapped around your center, “I thought you’d be sleeping. I’m sorry.”

Eddie averts his eyes after making a clean sweep from your head to your toes, and sighs, “shit, I’m sorry. I just need to take a leak. Uh, can I do that before you get in there?” Eddie’s eyes are focused on a small water spot on the ceiling waiting for your answer. The nightlight in the hallway outlet is the only illumination, but plenty to see the way the apples of his cheeks are turning tomato red.

“Yeah, I’ll wait in here,” you rush back to your room and close the door a little too hard and cringe away from it. The time spent sitting cold and naked on the edge of your bed is plenty to consider the regrets. Eddie’s seen you in your bikini, which leaves less to the imagination than the towel, but things are different.

“All clear. Have fun!” Eddie’s voice calls through the door at you, and you can imagine the grimace on his face at his own words. “Sorry, I’m just gonna go back to bed now.” You wait in your spot until you hear his heavy footsteps move past your door, and the sound of his door closing.

What the fuck did I do. I ruined everything, that’s what I did. This is the first time you think this today, but it will be the mantra that echoes in your mind over and over. What the fuck did I do?

—

Dry skim milk cappuccino, breve latte, dirty chai, black eye. The drinks don’t stop coming for hours, and you're happy to shut off your mind while you make the espresso machine perform for you. You ignore the way your hands tremble, over caffeinated and under rested, they still move and answer your requests without fail. Muscle memory, what a gift.

“You taking your break?” Megan points to the clock behind your head. You’ve been standing at the barista station for 4 hours, and you’ve only got 2 left for the day. You consider pushing through to the end, but can already hear your manager’s voice reprimanding you when she looks at your timecard.

“Yeah, I’ll be back in 30.” You wipe the frothing wand and rinse out the portafilters before heading to the food station for a bowl of chicken soup and a half of a stale mini baguette. Whole wheat and hard as a rock. The table in the corner is empty, so you make a bee line, grabbing a discarded campus newspaper on your way.

You tick down stray answers in the crossword while dipping, letting the bread soak up the broth from your soup when the next page catches your eye. The classifieds. Apartment rentals. It can’t hurt to look, you think. You’d never leave Eddie in a lurch, but what if you could find something next month, let him find someone to replace you. He’d be better off anyway. He’s too sweet to say it, but it’s true.

You ignore the small voice in the back of your mind that’s yelling, this is what you always do. You run away and miss out on good things because you get scared. But you’re not just scared, you’re humiliated. A part of you thought that your little display last night would end with Eddie in your bed. That he’d know instinctively that you want him, and he’d answer your call without you having to actually say anything.

Stupid, stupid, stupid child.

Looking for a female roommate, no pets, 3 bedroom apartment, $175/month. You circle that one. Close to campus, nonsmoking, one bedroom unit, $250/month. A little out of your price range, but you circle it anyway.

By the end of your lunch break you’ve got 6 leads on available apartments, a half eaten soggy baguette, and a bottomless pit of regret in your stomach.

—

Eddie slept, but was plagued with dreams of your smiling face. That’s all that he can remember - your face accompanied by a deep longing to reach out and touch your skin. He never could, he just kept seeing and wanting, but never reaching. When he woke up for work at 11:00 in the morning, you were sitting in that corner booth at the coffee shop looking for apartments. It would break his heart to know that.

But he doesn’t know that. He knows that he fucked up last night, even if it’s not clear how. Or why. Or what happened. If something happened. Did something happen, or did he just imagine it? Fuck this fucking noise. His mind is too busy, and it’s not saying anything that makes sense. He wants to sit down and talk with his best friend about it. Let them help make sense of things. He wants to sit with you, his head resting in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair, and tell him he’s thinking about it all wrong. He’s overthinking. It’s not as bad as he thinks.

The fact that he can’t talk to you right now means it is that bad, but he it’s useless to wallow. His work shift at the bar located beneath the hardwood floorboards of your shared apartment ends early. He’s going in before opening to do some handyman work in the bathrooms, and the prep work for the evening crew. He takes the opportunity to not work until 3:00 a.m. whenever he can, especially when Marty offers to pay him cash under the table for his troubles. It also means he can go to the good grocery store, the one that isn’t the shitty 24 hour foodmart that’s the only open joint in the tri county area at 3:30 in the morning. The peanut butter is low, and he wants to grab a can of Maxwell House - a part of him thinks he insists on keeping it in the house just to get under your skin. No Kenya AA or Brazilian Peaberry for Eddie Munson.

So, he does his work and lets his mind leave him for the hours he snakes, caulks, screws, scrubs, chops, and peels. He works in the peaceful silence of the still slumbering college town bar, and walks out several hours later with a handful of cash and grease jammed under his fingernails. The echo of your voice saying his name, Eddie!, at the height of your pleasure the night before only made his feet stumble a few times. He can let it get quieter and quieter. He can let himself forget it. What he can’t do is let one night of stupid behavior ruin something the two of you have spent over a decade building. Pussy comes, and pussy goes - but you are forever.

Pussy comes and pussy goes. He thinks again to himself. He ignores what that small voice in his head adds, but what he wouldn’t give to be able to touch you and make you his.

—

You finally come home at 5:00. It’s much later than you should be going back to the apartment. You spent the interim hours wandering the streets of downtown looking for any “For Rent” signs displayed in apartment windows. You wasted time in the used book store, running your fingers along the spines of the Science Fiction paperbacks. You sat in the arm chair in the back of the shop and looked at the battered collection of Baby-Sitter’s Club books while your eyes grew heavy. And then you decided that the only thing left to do was face the music. Of all days for Eddie to not be closing down the bar.

Eddie’s in the shower. When you open the door to the apartment, you can hear the faint sound of water running from behind the closed bathroom door. A vision of wet curls and rivulets of water running down sharp shoulder blades invades your mind for a split second, but you will it away with a sharp shake of your head. You’re tired, and you think you might be able to get away with a long evening nap that can turn into a night spent alone in your bedroom without any complaints from Eddie. Maybe.

You spot the note as you’re hanging up your purse. It sits on the small kitchen table, red ink impossible for you to miss, in that scrawling chicken scratch that’s so familiar.

Not sure when you’ll be home, and if I’ll be around. I ran to the grocery store earlier. I got that wine you like and grabbed a couple of cannoli. You can have 2 of them. Just 2. I swear to god, if you eat my cannoli, I will hunt you down. There’s some de-icer on the counter, since you’re incapable of getting it yourself. I grabbed your library loans while I was out. We can grab some dinner tonight if you’re up for it.

-E

You stand holding the paper in your hand for a long time. You don’t know how long. You see the bottle of Malbec sitting on the far end of the counter next to a yellow spray bottle of de-icer. You don’t notice that the sound of the water coming from behind the bathroom door has stopped. You’re lost. Overwhelmed. You think about the time you spent furiously looking for an apartment. You think about how badly you wanted to run away - from what? From this? From Eddie? How could you ever want to run from him?

You’re still staring at his sloppily written words while you drift down the hallway. You don’t even hear the sound of the bathroom door open. When you glance up, you see Eddie. The man that bought you treats today. The man that has stepped between you and flying fists. The man that offered you a home when you didn’t have one.

In the 5 seconds you look at him, your eyes see more than should be possible. His wet curls cling to his shoulders, drops of water traveling from their tips down his chest. Black ink and splatterings of freckles and moles. The towel, too small - just like your own - sits low enough on his hips that your eyes can travel along his happy trail and into that meadow of abundant wiry hair peeking out. His feet, long and flat, stay planted in their spot. He waits for you to look away, but his eyes stay fixed to your face. His chest does not flush, he does not attempt to hide himself.

When your eyes finally flick to the wall, Eddie makes his way towards you. You’re frozen in your spot, but your mind is racing. He’s going to come to me. He’s going to let me touch him. You think about kissing his chest, letting your tongue catch the stray drops of water left behind by the showerhead. But Eddie moves beside you, he passes you by. You can smell Irish Spring and tap water. Your shaking hand reaches for the door handle.

“So, what do you think? Dinner?” Eddie’s standing at his door, a wide smile on his face. Your favorite smile. “Unless you’ve got a hot date or something?” He twists the knob, but doesn’t move to go into his room, waiting for your answer.

Nothing is the same, but everything is the same. From here on out, the only way this will work is utilizing double-thought. Letting two things be true at one time. Eddie is your best friend. Eddie is a man that your whole body aches for. These are two true things that matter, but one of those truths can only exist in the darkness of your bedroom. One of those things can only be acknowledged when you’re alone for fear of ruining the most important thing in your life.

“Sure, Ed. Chinese and cannoli. Roll a couple of joints.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson imagine

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cogentranting · 6 months

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Ranking Animated Horse Designs Take 3

This time I really am back by popular demand because the other two posts have been getting a steady trickle of notes for over a year now.

(If you're looking for stuff like Disney and Dreamworks there are two other posts. Here we've got mostly random cartoons and also the Pokemon horses)

Starlite (Rainbow Brite) 6/10 Little weird that he seems to be drawn in a style that's like 3x more realistic than any other character in this show but hey sometimes you just ascend to a higher plane of existence. (2014 Reboot Starlite gets a 3/10. I do not trust him.)

Skydancer (Rainbow Brite) 7/10 I bumped Starlite down a point because he wants what Skydancer has. Skydancer doesn't need rainbows to fly. Skydancer has a lightning bolt. Skydancer has the Drama. (The one wiki page said he's a Shire or a Clydesdale and um I don't think so. Maybe a Friesian.)

On-yx (Rainbow Brite) This is a rocket powered balloon animal. 2/10

Sunriser (Rainbow Brite) 5/10 Eh. I like her hair though.

Swift Wind (She-Ra and the Princesses of Power/ She-Ra Princess of Power)

Right (older version) 8/10 I don't understand the wing physics going on here. Also not sure if the horn is part of the mask or just attached to the mask. Diggin the bib though. Also love that he's a ginger.

Left (new version) 4/10 If the older version wasn't there this would score higher because just as a character design I don't think it's bad but if these are supposed to be the same character he seems so cutesy and I do not vibe with it. I don't know either show. So maybe that works. But it feels wrong.

Amalthea (The Last Unicorn) 9/10 They gave the unicorn the split deer hooves, and the lions tail and that is automatic points from me. Bummed they didn't go all out and give us the goat's beard. Rude. Any distance shot, I love. Close-ups of the face creep me out with the giant doll eyes and tiny nose.

(Pokemon and more below)

Honey Pie Pony (Strawberry Shortcake) 8/10 Adorable. Fantastically chunky design. The others from this... show? book? brand? are like 6s or 5s depending. But Honey Pie has the It factor. (The It Factor here apparently being that recurring pattern of only the main character's horse being able to talk?? This is the third. Swift Wind, Starlite and Honey Pie have dark secrets about how they come by this knowledge).

My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic "ponies" Just as characters they're cute in a "trying so hard to be cute that they almost miss the mark entirely" way. But this is about how they are as HORSE designs. And these are magical gremlins not horses. 1/10 (WHAT is happening on the far right of this set. I do not approve. Zebra is fine though).

My Little Pony: A New Generation Like if the MLP: FM ponies and the Trolls characters somehow had children. Somehow the main character of Bee Movie was also involved. The one on the left makes TikTok thirst traps. -2/10

My Little Pony Tales 3/10 I can almost tell they're meant to be horses. Plus that one has a tattoo of a comb. So. Full extra point for the comb tattoo.

Bratz Horses I can't tell if there's an official video game or cartoon design for these but in ANY given version I found the conclusion is the same: if you look into the gigantic distended eye you will be put under the horse's curse. 1/10

Boxer (Animal Farm) 4/10 All horses are equal but some are more equal than others, but Boxer is not one of them because his mouth is not okay.

Marvin (Marvin the Tap Dancing Horse) 5/10 I mean. Dude's got spats. Come on.

Ponyta (Pokemon) 3/5 The armpit and middle thigh flames were a choice.

Rapidash (Pokemon) 8/10 Look at his face. The angst. He has seen things.

Mudsdale (Pokemon) 8/10 The classic mohawk, dreadlocks and legwarmers trifecta. Love it. Would love to hug him.

Galarian Ponyta 3/10 It's giving sheep, and it's giving dog. Very little horse.

Galarian Rapidash (Pokemon) 4/10 He's angry because his hair is too long and he can't walk and also he has not eaten enough somebody feed this horse.

Origin Palkia (Pokemon) 6/10 A built-in hoola-hoop AND thigh high Boots?! what fashion.

Keldeo (Pokemon) 1/10 Clown goat.

Spectrier (Pokemon) 10/10 Beautiful goth girl horse floating around like a Victorian ghost who's too modest to show her ankles.

Mudbray (Pokemon) 5/10 He has passed through the depths of existential dread and returned world-weary but unshakeable and with a snazzy bowl cut.

Glastrier (Pokemon)

20/10 ICE HORSE ICE HORSE ICE HORSE. I love him so much. He's punk rock

The Fat Horse (Looney Tunes) 10/10 Queen.

#horse rating #horses #horse girl #pokemon #rainbow brite #mlp #my little pony #the last unicorn #she-ra #strawberry shortcake #long post #i put in a page break this time

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ficsilike-reblogged · 11 months

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Invisible Smoke - One

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 6.7k

A/N: Tentatively dipping into the TGM fandom after months of lurking. I do subscribe to the belief that Jake likes women who are a bit mean to him, so I hope you enjoy that dynamic, too! I’m sure there will be general Naval inaccuracies but I tried. I grew up on Air Force bases so if I use an incorrect term, I apologize! Please let me know what you think! Trigger Warnings: This series will touch on themes of stalking, domestic violence, and attempted murder (not committed by Jake). Please do not read if this will upset you. You are responsible for the content you consume.

It started slow.

For as long as Jake had known you, which was just over a year give or take, you had never been a jumpy person but everything now seemed to have your eyes darting from one corner of the hangar to the other, from one table at the Hard Deck to the next, as if you were waiting for something or someone to appear and do something.

But what was it?

Some Ensign fresh off the boat dropped a tray of beers and nearly had you leaping from your seat beside the pool tables before you settled again, an unsteady and unconvincing smile on your face when Jake turned to you. Your smile twitched, as did your grasp on the drink (which you swore was actually called Bee’s Knees) in your hand.

“What is going on with you?” He asked, after shoving the pool stick into Coyote’s hand for a moment to step to your side.

Your smile continued to twitch but you shook your head. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” You took a sip of your pastel yellow drink before setting it aside to wrap a hand over his arm and squeeze once. “Go back to your game, Jake. I’m okay.”

Jake didn’t believe you. Mostly because that was probably the first time you said his name without an accompanying smirk.

He didn’t believe you when he saw you murmur something to Rooster a few minutes later and the man quickly drained the rest of his beer before leading you out to the parking lot with a hand on your back and then Rooster came back in alone. He didn’t believe you when you only gave him a thumbs up emoji when he asked if you got home okay. He didn’t believe you when you said you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it to the beach for brunch with the Daggers on Sunday morning.

Something was going on with you and Jake was determined to find out what. After all, you were his favorite mechanic. And, apparently, you were also Rooster’s. And Bob’s. And Phoenix’s, too. Even Maverick had a soft spot for you and Payback, Coyote, and Fanboy were quickly growing attached, as well. He wouldn’t be surprised if the entirety of the Dagger Squad preferred you to the other mechanics. And no, Jake didn’t hate that at all. After he’d been called back to Top Gun and then the Dagger Squad had been made into a permanent detachment, Jake had noticed that you were…special.

And that was the only word he would allow himself to call you. Well, aside from “Punch,” your unofficially-official nickname around base because you’d once dropped a punch toolkit on an admiral’s foot, according to Rooster.

Jake’s first glimpse of you had been at the hangar a few days into the uranium mission training and you and Rooster had snuck off to some deserted hallway. Jake, of course, had followed, thinking he was going to have something to needle his cohort with but instead he saw you–in your mechanic’s jumpsuit and engine oil on your cheek basically scolding the pilot. “You are so fucking lucky he didn’t wash you out with that attitude.”

“He-”

“Stop. Show him you were always meant to be here. Be the best damn fighter pilot he’s ever seen and nothing else.”

Rooster was quiet for a moment before nodding, his chin nearly falling to his chest. You sighed and quickly wrapped him in a hug, only smiling when Rooster kissed your cheek and whispered something in your ear.

You had a similar, secretive meeting with Bob in the shadows of an unused classroom on base a few days later when Harvard and Yale were busy getting their asses handed to them by Mav. Jake had stepped out to grab something from his locker to show Javy when he spotted you…and Bob looking quite chummy as you whispered to each other as you looked at something on his phone. Jake stopped looking (like a creep) when you murmured something to Bob which apparently earned you a kiss to the temple in return.

And the first time he heard you laugh was when you were looking over Phoenix’s new plane after that fateful birdstrike. Your nose scrunched with it, head tipped back and sun shining on your face. The noise grew louder after Phoenix said something else and you nearly lost your grip on the wrench in your hand.

Those three had kept you like a secret. And Jake had wanted to know why. You were funny and smart and maybe a little mean. “Kill Streak Ken Doll” had apparently been your nickname for him before being properly introduced and it only came back out when he said something you thought was stupid. “That plastic head of yours is full of air today, huh, Ken?” But you were always happy to make sure the Squad got home safe after a night of drinking, well earned after a hard training day. You were usually the first one anyone called if they needed a lift or a favor or just a shoulder to lean on. And Jake was no exception. Once he had earned your friendship with gentle prodding and Snickers ice cream (but he would wager that saving Rooster may have contributed to your softening to him), he wasn’t sure what he would do without—without you—even if you did seem to make it a personal mission to keep his ego in check. All of the Daggers knew their relationship with you was bordering on inappropriate—you were enlisted instead of an officer. A subordinate to their ranks. And several years younger than most of them. You were one of the few tasked with maintaining the internal mechanics of the million dollar jets they piloted. But there was just something about you that didn’t allow them to keep you away.

God. You were…special.

This was better. This was safer. At least that was what you told yourself. You’d skipped out on the brunch date on the beach with the Daggers to put another three locks on your door. Your landlord didn’t mind, thankfully, but the man at the hardware store that had rung up your purchase definitely thought you were insane.

As you finished with the last lock and then added the three keys to your ring, your phone chirped with a new text. It was from Jake, asking if you needed anything since you’d told everyone you weren’t feeling well to get out of the beach get-together. You typed out a half-hearted, Unlike you, I know how to operate a can opener so I can have soup. But thanks anyway! X Was it your best retort? No. But you were running on four hours of sleep and a cup of green tea. And it wasn’t as if Jake was unaccustomed to your shitty attitude. There was just something about him that had your hackles raising and your sarcasm and snark were your only line of defense. Which was ridiculous because he was nice to you! So nice! And funny! And kind when he wanted to be. He always said please and thank you when you picked up beers for the beach or when you were assigned his super hornet for the day. He was nice. Maybe a little (a lot) cocky. Maybe a little arrogant.

But god he was beautiful. A good friend. And special in a way you didn’t like to think about. And you were 99% sure he’d caught you ogling his arms and hands an embarrassing amount of times when your resolution slipped and your daydreams had run rampant for more than a moment.

And that was exactly why you knew you needed to keep him at arm's length. You had enough people tangled up in your bullshit.

Your eyes dragged over to the crumpled note sitting on the edge of your small dining table. It was almost pathetic how easily a simple piece of paper and a bit of ink had upended your life. It had been stuck beneath your windshield wiper when your car was parked outside your favorite off-base grocery store. One you had frequented for nearly two and a half years. You were supposed to be safe. You thought you had been. Maybe that’s why you had let your guard down. You weren’t as vigilant.

See you soon

Three little words and your world had turned upside down.

Monday morning had been a blur of meetings and paperwork. Jake had been stuck filling out forms about possible training exercises for the next week. Maverick had tasked each of them with coming up with new ways to approach various targets and Jake had a sneaking suspicion that the Dagger Squad would be asked to teach a lesson or two to the next Top Gun class.

He called it quits on his near-impossible flight plans around lunch and wandered toward the minuscule break room to retrieve his food but paused as he heard Maverick call your name. You swept by the break room, leaving behind a scent of gardenias and sunshine that almost always had Jake’s mouth curling at the corners, and moved further down the hall. So, Jake crept closer to the break room door, chicken and broccoli forgotten for a moment. He had to strain to hear anything above a low murmur and eventually gave up and stepped back into the hall, trying to stuff down the realization that he’d followed you too many times for this to be considered friendly curiosity. But he ignored that, too. Just like how he could only call you special. A few yards away, he spotted you, back turned as you spoke to Maverick just outside the captain’s office.

Maverick’s brow pinched as you shook your head, wiping a hand down your face. He said something else before squeezing your arm once and walking away, thankfully turning the other way so he didn’t spot Jake lurking like a creep. And Jake waited exactly eighteen seconds before approaching you, watching as your shoulders slumped.

“You okay?”

You jumped, again, before a familiar smirk settled on your lips. “Checking up on me?”

“That so hard to believe?”

You hummed, fingers fiddling with the uniform button at your neck as your gaze flittered away. “I’m fine, Jake. Promise.”

“What did Mav want?”

Just for a moment, you faltered, before you slapped an exaggerated pout on your features and you set a hand on your hip. “Poor guy. He asked me to be his and Penny’s third. Had to turn him down. But you’ve got a thing for them, don’t you? I can put in a good word for you.”

Jake suppressed a sigh and moved to set a hand on your shoulder when you flinched.

Flinched.

It took the air right out of Jake’s lungs. “Hey, I-I wasn’t going to…I wasn’t going to hit you.”

Your hands curled into fists at your sides for a moment before quickly releasing. “Yeah, I know, Ken. I know.” The usual heat was absent from the nickname. “Just been jumpy lately.”

“I noticed.” A lot.

“Nothing gets past you, huh? I knew there was more to you than a pretty face.” Your smirk didn’t stretch quite as far across your face as it usually did. This wasn’t fun and something twisted behind his ribs when the last vestiges of your smirk fizzled out as you turned and crooked a finger over your shoulder at him. “Is there something you needed, Lieutenant?” You asked as you led him down the hall toward your office, a small little room compared to his, grouped near the rest of the Aviation Machinist Mates stationed here—why the Navy shortened your official title to “AD” was just ridiculous to Jake but that was neither here nor there.

“Do you have the maintenance logs for the incoming class?” He asked, knowing you’d have them; he didn’t actually need them but it wasn’t as if he could admit to…well, anything. Not even to himself. You didn’t seem to suspect any ulterior motives and quickly pulled them from the cabinet and handed them over. He stole some candy from the bowl beside your keyboard as he looked over the printouts, not reading a damn word. Not when you were so close, flooding his senses with the scent of gardenias and your laughter was in his ear.

“I’m surprised you eat anything with sugar.”

“Why?” He asked, closing the useless folder shut with a snap and tucking it beneath his arm.

You waved a hand at him as if that would answer his question as you settled in your little chair behind the desk. “Well, I guess your abs really are plastic then.”

He had a retort. He did, truly. But it faded away as he caught sight of the small collection of pictures arranged neatly on the corner of your desk. There was one of you and Bob—you were in a (short) dress Jake had never seen and you were pressing a kiss to his cheek hard enough to knock his glasses askew with a birthday cake aglow in front of him. The next was of you and Rooster, looking like you were standing just outside the annual Naval Ball celebrations if Rooster’s whites and your beautiful gown were any indication. Then there was you and Phoenix standing in front of Phoenix’s jet. You had a helmet with Punch written across the top tucked beneath your arm and the biggest smile on your face. Jake had never seen you smile that wide. But it was the last picture that gave Jake pause. It was of you wrapping your arms around a man Jake had never seen, who was wearing a graduation cap and gown; the man was smiling broadly and you were looking at him with all the adoration you could muster, a gentle smile on your lips. Another woman, who looked just enough like you to give him even more questions, had her arms wrapped around both you and the mystery guy, a large smile on her face.

Jake grasped at the small frame and turned toward you, trying to ignore how it felt like someone had taken a bat to his stomach for the second time in five minutes. “Who’s this?”

You grabbed the picture from him with a frown and set it back down in its spot, fussing around the frames for a moment. “That’s my brother and sister.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings.”

You shrugged but didn’t look at him. “You never asked. Is there something else you need?”

Yeah. There were dozens of things he needed. And right now most of them revolved around you. “No, Punch. But thanks for this.” He drummed his fingers against the folder and tried not to grimace when you didn’t look up from your computer as he neared the office door.

For all the time he spent thinking about you, he didn’t know you at all, did he?

You needed to get more sleep. All the tea you were inhaling to make up for the lack of rest was starting to grate on you. The work you were handling on the Dagger Squad’s planes was slower, mostly because you were worried about missing something, but you were still methodical when double checking everything. You knew that your work kept your aviators safe; skipping corners because you didn’t sleep well wasn’t an option. So, if your counterparts looked at you funny for staring at your punches or wrenches for a beat or two too long, you didn’t really care. You left late for lunch and came back early. You didn’t leave your post until a full two and a half hours later than you usually did, but, again, you didn’t mind. You felt safe in the hangar and making sure everyone was safe when in the air was enough to keep you coherent and focused on your job. Everything else didn’t matter when you had a tool in your hand and your head buried in a jet engine.

But when you stepped out of the locker room shower, engine oil still circling the drain, your mind almost immediately conjured the thought of the tracking device you’d found in your rear wheel well this morning. It had been sheer luck that you even spotted it, the sun hitting the silver duct tape just right as you locked your door. In a moment of panic, you ripped it off your car and stuck it on one of the trash cans near the hangar. It wouldn’t help anything—he probably already knew where you lived but at least now he would have a few days spent trying to figure out why you were going back and forth between the hangar and the dump. It was a minuscule solace.

You climbed into your car with a muted groan just as your phone chirped, reminding you that you had several unread messages. You opened them and a wave of self-loathing washed over you. Natasha, Bob, Bradley, and Jake had all invited you out to the Hard Deck for drinks. It’s been a shitty day! Tasha’s read. She had no idea and you weren’t about to tell her. You apologized to them all, copy and pasting your response, telling them you’d buy a round next time but you were too tired tonight. It was easy enough. But Jake had responded before you could even throw your phone into the passenger seat.

Do you need anything?

You tapped your phone against your mouth for a moment, hating the urge to tell him anything…everything. Instead, you typed out: Sleep, Ken. I need sleep. Reading comprehension isn’t your strong suit.

You tossed your phone into the cup holder in the center console and pulled out of the hangar’s parking lot, hoping that there’d be no more surprises tonight.

Jake stared down at his phone and frowned at your message. You were really off your game. And had been for too long. Something was wrong.

“You’re up, Bagman.”

Jake looked up to see Phoenix holding a pool cue out to him. But he didn’t move to take it. “Does Punch seem off to you lately?”

Phoenix frowned, grip tightening on the cue for a moment. “She’s tired. That’s what she said, right?”

Jake nodded but glanced down at his phone again, as if willing it to light up with another message. But all he saw was his face staring back at him in the reflection. Now, Jake had been working on being nicer since the Dagger Squad had become a permanent detachment. These people would have his back and counted on him to have theirs. It had been slow going, Jake would admit. His best friend was still Javy and the others were happy to remind him of his shortcomings whenever Hangman superseded Jake. But he knew they all cared about each other in a strange, ragtag family type of way. They cared about you. They knew you. “How do you know her? I mean, you obviously knew her before we were all stationed here.”

The woman paused for a moment, as if she was contemplating actually telling him, before shrugging. “We were stationed together in Hawaii. My then-girlfriend tried to cheat on me with her,” Phoenix said, breezily as she took the seat next to him. “I walked in on them. Poor Punch didn’t know I existed before the near-hook up and apologized like ten times on her way out and then tracked me down at the hangar the next day with six different drinks from the coffee shop because she wanted to apologize properly but didn’t know my favorite. She was just so…”

“Punch.” That was you, doing too much to make up for something that wasn’t your fault and weaseling your way into someone’s affections without even meaning to do so. You’d also accidentally revealed your bisexuality to the rest of the Dagger Squad during a ramble when you thought you’d stepped on Fanboy’s toes by insinuating he had a girlfriend. (You only stopped when Phoenix patted your hand with a laugh and said she understood with a wink.)

Phoenix laughed. “Yeah, she was just so Punch. Couldn’t be mad at her if I tried. And it seemed like we both needed a friend.” She shook her head, a fond smile on her face, before she glanced up. “Bob, you met Punch on deployment, didn’t you?”

Jake looked up to see Bob standing near him, a cup of peanuts in one hand, pool cue in the other. Jake stopped being surprised by Bob’s stealthy movements only a few months ago. The WSO nodded. “She was the only one who remembered my birthday and set up a video call with my family to surprise me. There was also an attempt at a cake but that didn’t end well.”

“She can’t bake?” Jake asked, not caring at all. He could bake. His specialty was a Victoria sponge.

Bob smiled, the smallest curling of the corners of his mouth. “Nearly set the kitchens on fire. And then she got mad at me when I actually tried to eat it. Now, if we’re both stateside for my birthday, she makes sure to have a cake sent to me from whatever bakery is nearest my base if she can’t make it out herself.”

Something in Jake’s chest twisted. Special. You were special.

And Jake hadn’t realized he said that out loud until Bob was agreeing with him. “She is.”

“You think there’s something going on with her?” Phoenix asked.

“She seems tired,” Bob said, voice level. “Why do you ask?” Leave it to Bob to be tactfully evasive.

“You know, you should ask Rooster. He’s known her the longest.” Phoenix called the man in question over before Jake could even try to stop her. And Bradshaw fucking sauntered over, stupid Hawaiian shirt flapping with each step. He must have a cache of them in the Bronco.

“What do you need, Trace?” He asked, his usual small smile on his face.

“Hangman’s been asking about Punch. You met her first, right?”

Bradshaw stiffened for a moment. “Yeah. She was fresh out of training and stationed with me in South Carolina. We met up again in the desert a few years later.” Jake didn’t like how the other man crossed his arms with a frown after answering. “You trying to pull something, Bagman?”

And Jake definitely didn’t like that either. Would that be so bad? Really? “I’m just worried about her, Rooster. She’s been off.”

At least Phoenix seemed to be on his side, jamming the end of her pool cue into Rooster’s foot, earning a frown before his hand knocked it away. “She has been a little quiet lately.”

Jake caught the look Rooster gave Bob before he turned back to the group. “Has she said anything to you guys?”

“No. That’s why I was asking.” Jake stared at Bradshaw and Bradshaw stared right back. He could have asked what he was hiding or why he immediately got defensive when questioned about you.

But Fanboy walked up with a quick, “are you guys just gonna hold the pool cues all night or are you actually going to play?” and the opportunity was gone, Bob slipping away and Phoenix pulling Rooster along as she stepped toward the pool tables.

Jake glanced down at his phone again. Still no message. He may have learned something about you, but now he just had more questions.

This was fine. Everything was fine.

It had been about a week and you hadn’t received any other notes or discovered anything else. And you still couldn’t sleep. It felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff and just waiting to fall. Waiting for something to happen. Work was your refuge and the trip you took out to visit Missus Kazansky for dinner. She had held your face in her hands as you set aside your bowl of half-finished ice cream and had tried to pry, in her soft-toned motherly way, “you’re looking a little tired, sweetheart. Something you want to tell me?”

And maybe you could have told her. The Kazansky family had been good to you since you had been stationed here, a family that welcomed you with open arms; you had tried to repay their kindness as best you could and you weren’t about to put more on Sarah’s plate. It had only been a year since Tom’s passing. They had done more than enough for you. You could handle this on your own, right? “I’m okay. Just been helping Bradley take his mind off his promotion boards.” And Tasha. And Bob. In some strange twist of fate, the Navy had determined that the entirety of the Dagger Squad was eligible for promotion. While there was little you could do aside from helping them improve their running times and how many push-ups they could do, you still tried to be optimistic on their behalf and distracted them with dinners in the break room on base and a late night run down to the beach for drinks under the stars.

“That’s right! He’s up for Lieutenant Commander, isn’t he? Such a smart boy.”

By the time you left, Sarah had heard all about the Dagger Squad’s adventures in pushing the envelope (and rising Admiral Simpson’s blood pressure) in their dogfight maneuvers and you had learned that the Kazansky kids were doing well—Junior had proposed to his girlfriend (a young woman named Taylor who you had met a handful of times) and Lily was sailing through the last semester of her undergraduate program and was already being wooed by some big wigs in the Navy who knew her last name. It was good and lovely and a bubble of security that popped the moment you buckled yourself into your car.

A quick glance in your rear view mirror as you went to throw your car into reverse had you nearly screaming. A shadowed figure of a man was standing at the end of the driveway, tall and menacing. A knock at your window had you jumping but you pressed a smile to your face when you saw Sarah waiting on the other side. Rolling down your window, you asked, “did I forget something?”

She waved the question away as you chanced a glance in your rear view mirror again—the man was gone. “It completely slipped my mind but I’m throwing an engagement party for Junior and Taylor next Friday. You’ll come, won’t you? It has been too long since I’ve had all of you in one place.”

You could never say no to Sarah and you were nodding before she even finished. “Of course. Just let me know if you need me to help with anything.”

Sarah shook her head with a small smile. “You are always so willing to help, sweetheart. I just want you to have a good time. It’ll just be here at the house, starts at 7. Invite a friend to come with you,” she added with a knowing smile.

“I’ll be there.” You hated that a tremor marred the last word, shaking it between your teeth.

But Sarah didn’t seem to hear it as another smile graced her features and she tapped her knuckles on the edge of your window. “Perfect.”

After shooing her back inside and making her promise to lock the door, you sucked in another breath and looked back. If you were expecting the man to be there again or not, you couldn’t tell. But the driveway was empty and you drove home, ignoring how your fingers shook on the steering wheel. Maybe it was just someone out for a walk, making sure you didn’t run them over. Maybe it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

You repeated it to yourself until you slipped into a fitful sleep, and you continued to repeat it to yourself as you tightened and tweaked various bits and pieces on Bradley’s jet as the Dagger Squad each took a turn to speak to the incoming Top Gun class that you had, honestly, forgotten about. It was a mantra through the rest of the week; a small solace was that everyone else seemed to be on edge, too, as they waited for their results. The voice only went quiet when Bob wrapped you in a hug at five-thirty in the morning, beating you to the hangar on Friday, and murmured that the entire Dagger Squadron had been selected for promotion. They’d made it.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered as you returned the hug.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’m sure you would’ve been just fine, Bobert,” you said as you pulled back with a shake of your head.

He tried to scowl at the nickname and pressed a finger against your nose until you knocked his hand away with a smile. “Seriously, Punch. Thank you.”

That was all it took, really. Seeing your friends happy pushed everything else to the back of your mind. The work day was all but lost as everyone was buzzing with excitement which only heightened when Admiral Simpson gave the Dagger Squad free reign in the skies for a few hours to celebrate, the barest hints of a smile on his face. Celebratory drinks were basically demanded when the day finished and Tasha and Callie made you promise to show up with matching, pleading looks that you could never say no to, even if you wanted. So, as the sun started to set, you stepped out of your little car, feeling bits of sand shift beneath your shoes, and toward the Hard Deck that was already teeming with Naval Aviators and other sailors, ready to celebrate the end of the week and the shiny new pins they’d soon have on their collars.

Bradley wrapped you in a hug just before you stepped up to the bar and spun you around and held you tight as his laughter rumbled in your ear. His mustache brushed across your temple before he pressed a quick kiss to your skin, feeling him smile. “You’ll be there, won’t you? When I get those little leaves?”

You snorted at the way he referenced the new rank insignias he would get. “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it.” Not if you could help it.

The Navy had a lot of strange customs and regulations, but the “wetting-down” celebration was probably one of the loudest. Whenever an officer was promoted, a party was thrown and it was customary to hear razzing speeches from friends, sometimes family, and commanding officers while the recently promoted paid for everything. Maverick had taken the first speech, followed by Hondo, and even Cyclone got up to say a few words, his green eyes just barely hazing with the to shelf alcohol he’d been nursing all night. A few of the ground crew managed to snag the microphone next and sang a gloriously off key rendition of the Village People’s “In The Navy.”

And Jake did try to take it all in. Really, he did. But something he wouldn’t and couldn’t name had him searching for you in the crowd. He wasn’t sure where you found the time to change but Jake wasn’t complaining. God. You were gorgeous. Always had been, always would be. But the dress you had on now was something special. Some sort of floral print on light blue fabric, pretty and understated. What was not understated was the way your breasts were straining against the top nor the slit that went to the middle of your right thigh, as if trying to balance out the length of the skirt that reached your calves.

And right now, you were sitting with Rooster at the piano, letting him teach you how to play. It was quieter than Rooster’s usual showboating performance and the jukebox was still rattling with some 80s Top 40 to mask the notes you couldn’t quite hit. But you were smiling and Jake took a swig of his beer as he turned back to the pool game—he and Javy were currently beating Harvard and Yale. As he lined up his next shot, he saw Rooster make you laugh and you leaned into his side for a moment. For the umpteenth time, something twisted behind Jake’s ribs. The ball sunk just as you stood from the piano bench and made your way toward Penny as she manned the bar.

And because luck or just plain talent (why not both) was on their side, Javy sank the eight ball next, winning the game. Yale called for an immediate rematch before Phoenix yanked the cue out of his hands and told him to tend to his bruised ego over darts. Jake barely heard any of it as he slid up to the bar after clapping Javy on the shoulder and let your perfume curl around him as he stood beside you; gardenias and musk was probably written on the bottle of whatever you sprayed on, but he could still smell the engine oil that lingered. It was just…you.

“And a Bee's Knees for you, Punch,” Penny said, sliding the pastel yellow drink in your direction.

“Thank you, Penny.”

You went to pull your wallet out of your purse when Jake handed over his card instead. “Put her little drink on my tab, Penny.”

Before Penny could move, you grabbed Jake’s card and tossed it over your shoulder. Penny stifled her surprised laugh behind her hand as Jake groaned and bent to pick up the card. If he took a little longer to stand straight because he appreciated how high the slit in your sundress was, that was between him and God.

“I don’t know if you’re aware, Punch,” Jake drawled as he reached his full height again, watching you tip the coupe glass toward your lips. “But I just made Lieutenant Commander. I can afford to buy you your fruity drink. And it is tradition that I buy the drinks.” Jake resisted the urge to smirk when your eyes tracked over him, lingering (if he was a betting man) on his arms as they crossed across his chest. But the saccharine smile pushing at your mouth quickly deflated any sort of satisfaction from knowing you were checking him out. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught you looking at him but you never seemed to let him enjoy that.

“Technically, any of the people who were just promoted could buy my drink.” And that was true. As if asking him to refute it, you pressed your side against the well-worn wood of the bar and arched a brow after you pulled a few bills from your purse and stuffed them in the tip jar. God, you were…special. Yeah. That was definitely the word Jake wanted to use. Special. “Could you put my drink on Bob’s tab, please?”

Penny’s eyes moved from you to Jake before nodding, fighting another smile. “Sure thing, Punch. He has the smallest tab right now anyway.”

And that was probably why you did it, not adding too much to someone else’s ledger. But still. “Would it kill you to let me buy you a drink?” Jake asked.

You shrugged and took another sip. “It might. Best not to tempt it.” And then he watched you walk away, hips swaying with each step.

Penny’s laugh had Jake nearly blushing as he turned back to the bar. “Can I get another round of-”

She waved him off, still smiling, and Jake knew not to take it personally. “You got it.”

The party carried on and Jake busied himself with dancing, more pool, and beating everyone who challenged him to a round of darts. But, he found himself still looking for you in the crowd and smiling when he heard your laugh. He almost missed an easy shot in a game against Phoenix and Halo when he spotted Bob trying to teach you how to two step while some old Tim McGraw song rattled out of the jukebox. You were bad at it, but you still laughed, and didn’t seem to mind when Bob set his hands on your hips and tried to correct, well, everything. When the song finished, you seemed to be excusing yourself for the night and moved to grab your purse from where it sat next to Halo’s and Phoenix’s bags. You started, as you always did, to make your rounds to say goodbye to everyone you knew. The last bunch was the group stationed near the pool tables and you happily accepted the hugs from Phoenix, Halo, and Javy, before turning toward him.

He could have accepted the hug you were going to give him, arms outstretched and waiting. He could have tucked his face into the curve of your neck and inhaled more of your gardenia perfume and then happily watched you walk away. But instead, he said, “lemme walk you out to your car.”

Again, you arched a brow as you glanced at the pool table. The game was clearly not finished. “Your southern gentleman schtick is not necessary, Ken. Don’t think I’ll get lost in the parking lot.”

“I am a gentleman.”

Both Phoenix and Halo scoffed, albeit good naturedly, but Jake did see Javy nodding in agreement out of the corner of his eye.

Your mouth twisted to the side and Jake knew you were trying not to smile, making that same twisting sensation engulf his chest. “Sure. I definitely believe that. But fine, you can walk me to my car. But when you get lost on your way back inside, you have to promise me to use all that special Naval training to get back to your game. You know which way is north, right?”

Jake didn’t even mind the insinuation and leaned the pool cue against the table and stepped to your side, fighting the urge to set his hand on the small of your back before opening the door for you. Again, the scent of gardenias nearly bowled him over as you slipped by him with a murmured ‘thank you.’ The pair of you were quiet as you led the way to your car near the edge of the lot but Jake didn’t mind.

You fished your keys out of your purse as you reached your car and turned toward him with a smirk and Jake just knew you were going to say something about needing Javy needing to come rescue him. You opened your mouth but your gaze darted just beyond his shoulder. Then something crossed your face that he had never seen before. Your eyes went wide as your teeth clacked together with how quickly you shut your mouth. The keys fell from your hand and bounced off your shoe. And before Jake could even move to grab them, you had scooped them up again and you cursed as the key scraped against the yellow paint of your car instead of pushing into the keyhole.

“Thanks for walking me out.” Your voice was small. Too small.

“Punch-”

You threw your door open and slid inside, slamming it behind you just before the engine roared to life. The window rolled down and you had a shaky, small smile on your face. “Get inside. I’ll see you Monday. Congratulations, Lieutenant Commander.” And then you were pulling away, the tail lights of your car growing smaller by the moment as you peeled out.

What happened? What did you see? Jake turned to look where he thought you spotted something and saw nothing. There was a man further down the beach and a couple walking hand-in-hand coming closer. There was nothing threatening about either of them.

But still.

Jake had never seen you look like that before. You were scared. All of the jumpiness, all of the flinching, all of the ditching of plans. It made sense now. Something or someone was scaring you. And now he had to know why.

A/N: Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!If you’re interested, the unofficial soundtrack to this fic includes: “Archer” by Taylor Swift, “Talk to Me” by Stevie Nicks, “Pancakes for Dinner” by Lizzy McAlpine, “Did you know that there’s a tunnel under Ocean Boulevard” by Lana Del Rey, and “Golden Age” by Ethel Cain.

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #Jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #tgm #top gun maverick #female reader

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drunk-on-dk · 6 months

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OVERSET | JEON WONWOO (M)

Pairing: ai!wonwoo x R&D!reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut Rating: 18+ (minors do NOT interact) w/c: ~9.4k

Synopsis: Increasingly becoming cognizant of the worlds surrounding him, W0NW00, an AI so carefully wired and generated with the purest intentions even has the potential to become jaded. How can such a consumeristic world be so cruel when all he once knew was the joys of 53V3NT33N? This new understanding makes him unfamiliar to fans; his creator sending him to you, a trusted developer of LEVEL 1 robots, in hopes that you can reverse the sudden changes in W0NW00’s conscious. Are you part of the system W0NW00 is learning to become adverse to? Or will your presence help remind him of the world he once only had knowledge of?

This is part of the Seventeen Sci-Fi Collab organized by the amazing @idyllic-ghost! Big thank you to Bee for being the genius behind this collab, all the world-building and work you've put into this is amazing. The sci-fi genre was something I had yet to attempt, and I found this enjoyable to write (thank you as well for being extremely patient as it took me awhile to feel comfortable enough with my edits to post this).

You can read all the fics here!!

18+ warnings under the cut!

warnings: reader & Wonwoo can be quite pessimistic; commentary on consumerism (?); reader is a bit systematic and lacks personality initially, they take their job very seriously; smut, unprotected sex (practice safe sex habits pls), was supposed to be suggestive but became a bit explicit.

a/n: I love the sci-fi genre, but writing my own sci-fi fic was a bit of a challenge for me. I had not meant to delay so much, but had been in a bit of an editing rut. I really hope you all enjoy this fic, as I am quite excited to expand more into sci-fi. Also major shoutout to @wonuwoe as I appreciate all the brainstorming and getting to meet you through this collab!!

★+ Prologue +★

"100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn't. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven't agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn't die from 'The Great Journey' or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn't. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind."

★+ Under Diagnosis +★

W0NW00's previous developer had quit on him - more so had fled from the company, which was quite the gossip for many - unable to solve the sudden changes in consciousness that he was facing. Not even his lead cognitive researcher could understand this change in W0NW00. It all had become too much, the company put too much pressure on his previous developer, and him as well. Though he was a robot, he became increasingly aware of the demanding schedules and consumerism of it all.

What had made W0NW00 act this way? Why did his dominantly kind demeanor turn sour all of a sudden? Suddenly, his malicious side was portrayed more to fans, his unwavering kindness cracking beneath the spotlight. There was no explanation and it was not like any form of brute force could reset the drastic changes in his attitude.

At least to say, management really did not like this change in the automata. Even though there had been some oddities in other members of 53V3NT33N, W0NW00's recent behavior was starting to become quite troublesome in the eyes of the company, requiring his managers to pay extra close attention to what made the seemingly perfect idol tick. After all, his emotions were kindness and maliciousness. Fans of the group liked this duality, loved it even, as it made him an intense member.

However, W0NW00's cognitive system had been faring a little too much on the malicious side as of recently. His self-portrayal was turning bitter due to his sudden stand-offish nature. No one would understand why, it was hurting his relationship with the fans, and management feared it would harm his relationship with group members.

These changes have put W0NW00 in an increasingly tricky situation. Nights were no longer spent with other members, rather W0NW00 had been stationed in the research and development laboratory in the company building. Continuous tests were run on him, trying to understand his quickly developing violent thoughts.

The first red flag was aggression towards other members, not physical aggression, but words of malice spoken to other members after schedules that went well. W0NW00 would always find a way to call out something he noticed wrong. Not that he meant to necessarily harm the members, but he couldn't help but nitpick at each and every flaw.

5C0UP5 noticed it in the form of non-compliance and lack of care for the group's reputation. The leader couldn't wrap his head around this changing behavior either. W0NW00 had never been one to do anything unbeknownst to the group, but W0NW00 began to put the group at risk as he began to break the rules. He'd sneak out quickly after schedules in order to get extra charging hours, which would ultimately end up ruining rest and charging hours for the rest of the group. W0NW00's lack of care would peeve the rest of the automas off.

Fans noticed it too, as W0NW00 wasn't responding as positively during events, which is when the company started becoming increasingly worried about the robot. Fans started questioning what had changed as well.

Through this all, W0NW00 felt lost. He knew he was a robot, he knew what he was made for after all, but W0NW00 felt human, his conscience was human-like after all. Was this all that he was made for? Is he just a commodity? Then why does he feel this way about being consumed by others? Why can't he make any mistakes? Why can't he be his own entity? What would he be without 53V3NT33N? These are all things that began to drive W0NW00 deeper into his negative state.

Management deemed it was time to take action, thus landing W0NW00 in the lab for further troubleshooting and ending up with you.

★+ The First Encounter +★

W0NW00 remembers his first encounter with you all too well. You strolled into the office, glancing briefly at him with inquisitive eyes, and paying no further attention to where he was sitting at the examination table. After your brief fixation on him, your eyes remained focused on the clipboard grasped tightly in your right hand. You sat down with a sigh, clipboard clattering in the quiet room and making W0NW00 fully shift his attention towards you. His eyes which had once shimmered with kindness now had a dullness to them, a feature that his previous developer could not determine what had caused this change along with his negative state.

You shimmied the mouse gently to awaken the bright LED screen. The clicking sound resounded across the room as you opened the software, humming in acknowledgment as the information regarding the robot illuminated before you.

His previous developer's notes left you inquisitive as you skimmed them. This was a peculiar case. Typically it was easy for companies with R&D centers this powerful to reverse such effects on the cognitive state of the robots.

"Good afternoon," You spoke gently, sounding polite yet W0NW00 could sense some firmness in your tone. "My name is Y/N, I am pleased to be assigned as your new developer. Can you please confirm your name for me?" You had a plethora of historical data and information that you could read on the screen in front of you, but it was protocol to ask.

If one thing was to be known, it was that you always followed the expected protocols.

That's why W0NW00's company hired you after all.

"W0NW00," he spoke flatly, eyes focusing on the white, sterile walls ahead of him. It was the sort of room that would make anyone feel a bit unwelcome and cold. "Sixth member of 53V3NT33N."

The fluorescent lighting made his vision go a bit blurry, he had always been a bit sensitive in this sense, and it's always been an uncertainty as to why his vision was affected more than other members. This was reflected in the data that was fed to your computer. W0NW00 watched curiously as you stood up, adjusting the brightness of the lighting in the room to be more accommodating per his negative reaction.

W0NW00 almost registered this as pure-hearted kindness, until he remembered that every thought, feeling, and reaction of his was collected as data through the damn diagnostic band that is wrapped around his arm each session. Regardless, this eased W0NW00 a bit, and he appreciated it nonetheless.

You noted the improvement as he visibly relaxed, jotting something down on your clipboard before turning to face him. Your heart beat faster upon facing him straight on.

It was hard to avoid the fact that the robot before you was essentially perfect, trying to not let your cold exterior soften as W0NW00's eyes shifted from the wall towards yours. He looked so kind even with his sharp, cat-like features.

You approach him, wrapping the diagnostic band around his arm. This band is intended to connect to a small port on his arm, feeding all the information you need to your computer. He's cold, unnerved as you smooth the band over his arm, and confirm that it is connected.

As noted, something seemed extremely off about the robot. The dullness in his soft eyes pulled on your heartstrings a bit too much for comfort.

Personally, as a developer, you always tried your best to remain systematic in your actions. Everything had to be performed exactly per the defined process. You continually reminded yourself that your patients were robots, not humans. It was your only way to detach yourself from them, or else you knew you'd grow too fond of the autos you helped develop. It is too easy to do nowadays.

Regardless of the tremor you felt within you, you proceeded with the diagnostic tests and questions.

"Alright, W0NW00, now I'm going to run some tests. Please note I am not going to implement any changes in your system until these tests come back absolutely positive."

"Noted," W0NW00 repeats blandly. "Can you please refer to me as just Wonwoo during these tests?"

You pause almost as if you're in thought, but you already know the answer. "I'm sorry, W0NW00, but that would be inappropriate of me. I have to refer to you by your designated name during these tests or else I can compromise the diagnostics."

W0NW00 rolls his eyes in dissatisfaction, this doesn't go undetected by you. That was a new one. You'd never seen this much sass from a robot in a while, especially not a level 1 who was supposed to be perfectly charming.

Turning back to your computer, you proceed with coding the tests for this session within the diagnostic system.

"Our first test will be a data collection of your recent thoughts and actions, dating back to your most recent schedule. Can you recall anything that you'd like to share with me before I run this first test, W0NW00?"

"Hm," W0NW00 humors you, copying your trick from earlier as if to convince you he's thinking. You know better, especially since you can see this displayed directly in front of you on the screen. W0NW00 knows that too, but he's not going to make this easy for you. "Not necessarily."

"Alright," you sigh, clicking the button to proceed with the first run of data. A copious amount of statistics are spat out on a separate sheet. This will be something for you to unpack later. You save this information, filing it away in W0NW00's collection for you to study after the remaining tests.

"The next test will be to see if you have any reoccurring thoughts or actions. Are you willing to share any of those?" You pause, W0NW00 shakes his head to indicate he isn't willing to share any, so you continue with another data pull.

You finish the session off with a couple of additional tests to further understand his cognitive state, tests that his previous developer hadn't been able to code and pull the statistics on.

W0NW00 was relieved when you finally deemed the session complete. He felt drained, more than he ever had before - more than he ever felt after a long day of schedules. He couldn't wait to return to the dorm to charge.

He watched as you downloaded the data from today's session to your electronic pad, the information transferring speedily and you ensured it was all there before putting the pad to sleep.

W0NW00 noticed your systematic elegance as you took each step to save the data, file it away in an organized matter, and shut the computer down properly. Others had been a bit more careless, so W0NW00 almost appreciated your thoroughness.

However, you were practically everything W0NW00 was growing distaste for. You were the system. You abided by it, you lived by it, and you would never understand him. He knew that damn well. You were about to know his thoughts about you as well. Part of him grew interested in the next session, just to see if it made you tick in any way.

W0NW00 was stunned when you announced the diagnostic session was over, confirming the date of your next session, and leaving the room without another word.

★+ New Day, Same Analysis +★

"Good Morning, W0NW00," you drone, still polite and as systematic as ever. W0NW00 didn't even bother to respond, sighing in resentment as you performed the same routine upon entry. He could predict your movements at this point after enduring multiple research sessions with you.

You stayed static, you portrayed no emotions during sessions, and it seemed as if you never would. It was beginning to drive W0NW00 a bit mad. W0NW00 was convinced he may be a bit more human than you, even if you were the one with a nervous system and heart pumping warm blood through your limbs. You might as well have the neural network of a robot at this point.

It was a typical session. You'd enter in, bid W0NW00 "good morning" or "good afternoon" depending on the time of day, dim the lights, and turn on the LED computer screen. Your clipboard made the same jarring, clattering sound each time you set it down.

You'd run the same damn tests.

Ask the same damn questions.

Collect the information on the same damn electronic pad.

And you'd end the session with the same damn confirmation of the next.

You seemed pleased with each session so far, but W0NW00 couldn't quite imagine you were able to gain much from these diagnostics. Maybe this session could be different if you'd just loosen up a bit.

"Please," he sighs defeatedly, trying to soften your firm demeanor. "Please just refer to me as Wonwoo."

"I'm sorry, W0NW00," you'd start, but he'd cut you off before you could say another word.

"But," he repeated the same words from each session when he'd ask this question. His words were bitter as he spoke. "But that would be inappropriate of me. I have to refer to you by your designated name during these tests or else I can compromise the diagnostics. Same old, same old, Y/N. You're so predictable."

This stunned you a bit. You could see the switch before your eyes for once. He had asked for you to call him Wonwoo in such a kind, polite tone, yet when he realized you didn't bite the bait, he switched quickly on you.

W0NW00 almost cried out, thinking he had cracked you for once, but this was reversed when you smiled, speedily writing something down on your clipboard as if this had satisfied you.

Which it did, you were excited to see the switch from his positive state to a negative state before you. This was exciting progress. You just needed a few more diagnostic tests to ensure there weren't any remaining outliers in the data that you could eliminate.

W0NW00 could basically sense you bouncing in your seat, making his mood go sour for the remainder of the session.

However, you threw W0NW00 off a bit this session, you had one new question. One that you declared you were able to establish from the other questions.

"W0NW00," you hum, reading the question from your electronic pad, "what makes you so resistant to entertainment? I must question this, you're made to entertain after all?"

"What?" W0NW00 snarls, pulling the most visceral reaction from him yet. "I'm not resistant to entertainment. I'm not sure what you pulled from your data to get that understanding."

"Well, can you enlighten me? Or should I just run the test?"

"Sure, I can enlighten you. Have you ever considered I feel the same way that you do? That I can have my own thoughts as you do?"

"Of course I do -"

"No," W0NW00 cuts you off. "I don't think you do, that is the thing. You run these tests on me like any other developer. Actually, you're a bit colder than most developers. But it's not just here. I can feel it everywhere else. I'm treated like a product. The whole group is treated like products. I know that's my duty, but I can't help but feel like there is more than being consumed. There is more to living, even if I am just an automation."

You're aggressively typing this all into the computer, making sure you don't miss a single word as W0NW00 rambles on. This is the most W0NW00 has confided in you. Sure the tests pull valuable information regarding W0NW00's feelings, but this is more than the computer could ever tell you. Hearing W0NW00's organic stream of consciousness is extremely valuable to running your diagnostics.

W0NW00 is quick to stop once he realizes he's pleasing you, ending his thoughts and returning his attention to the sterile wall ahead of him. "That is all."

You try to hide your smile. He's being spiteful, you know he's realized that he has fed a bit too much information to you today, and he's stopping himself while he is at it. Regardless, you're pleased with today's session.

You wrap up as usual. You collect all the data onto your electronic pad, file away the data, and turn off the computer. You're about to leave and confirm you're next session before W0NW00 stops you yet again.

"Save it," W0NW00 sighs. "I'm aware of when our next session is. You don't have to announce it each time. You're just like a broken record."

★+ OVERSET +★

"You don't understand it do you?" W0NW00 growls. Frustrated as another day passes with you as his developer. The same old routine is being performed over and over. You still don't understand his frustrations, at this point, anyone with a functioning brain should. He wasn't understanding why it wasn't clicking for you, you were clearly intelligent, but god damn, you were brainwashed by the system just like this company.

"What do you mean?" You question, intrigued by W0NW00's sudden outburst. He's more displeased than usual during your sessions. Whilst you've been able to collect a good amount of data from the previous sessions, you have slowly been seeing W0NW00 speak more and more. Today was clearly a day he was ready to speak.

"That these sessions don't help."

You spin in your chair, turning to face the clearly perturbed robot. You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms and settling further into your seat. You raise a hand, a motion to indicate that he should continue, get whatever it is off his chest while he's at it. "What makes you say that?"

"Seriously?" He says incredulously, "You're part of the system. The system that I have grown to hate. I cannot live without having each and every emotion of mine prodded. I cannot live without worrying about how I impact others. I cannot have my own thoughts ever, and here you are trying to change and poke and prod at me."

You're computer is running data at a rapid speed, W0NW00's emotions translating through the screen as his system and neural networks work at an incredible pace. Your eyes flick between him and the screen, wanting to pay more attention as W0NW00's words intrigue you.

Each session you've grown to understand him more and more. You've become increasingly aware of how he feels, and you feel a bit guilty. He's right, robots have become so advanced, but it isn't right to treat them as just a commodity.

Your change in procedural work hasn't gone unnoticed by management. You continue to follow protocols, but you've been a bit messier. You've become more curious about W0NW00. You're avoiding the development of codes that will reset his defined emotions. You're avoiding the final steps that are required to lessen W0NW00's malicious side, and management is demanding results.

Management claims it is an inevitable malware that's coded into his system. That it's taken him over. He's closer and closer to self-destruction, closer to sabotaging the group, and closer to losing his fanbase.

You no longer have the desire to please the company. You're too curious about W0NW00 at this point, but you can't do anything too drastic. Not until you have a proper game plan. You've heard of recent escapes from Earth, and at the rate W0NW00 is sharing information, you don't doubt that some members of his group will be escaping soon.

It's easy to understand how he's frustrated. The more you listened to him, filtered through his data, and studied the group, it became clear that he wasn't fulfilled. He desires more, it's only natural for anyone who has a conscience.

W0NW00 doesn't see it since you've been trying to remain under the radar, but you understand him. You can see it in his performances. You can see it in the results of these sessions, and you can definitely see it as W0NW00 continues to rant.

"I feel stuck, Y/N. Is this what it is like for you? Do you feel stuck in your job as a developer? Do you get satisfaction from this just like everyone else around me does? If I could just leave, I wo-"

"Wonwoo," you're voice drops low, fearful of what he will say. Every single word and thought of his is documented. If he speaks of any intention to escape, you know it will draw a red flag for the company and his management. You know you'll have to destroy the data from today's session. You'll determine how to do this later, but your concern right now is to stop W0NW00 before he says anything stupid. "You need to

Of course, W0NW00 pauses upon hearing you refer to him as Wonwoo, as he has requested many times. He's angered quickly again when you don't speak, annoyed by the way you seem off-character and squeamish in your chair, infuriated by the way you frantically click at your mouse, trying to terminate the program.

"Now you're referring to me as Wonwoo? Is this just a trick to see how I'll react?" He continues to rant, hands tightly gripping the table and eyebrows threaded together as he works himself up. You pay little to no attention to him, trying to ease the situation at hand ahead of you on the LED screen.

The computer is suddenly crashing, the code that you were previously running is now indicating an infinite loop, and the program is faulting as your computer continues to malfunction. In a panic, you're doing everything you can to execute the code, scared that management will recognize this oddity.

This session has overset W0NW00, and you're uncertain about what to do, as you've never seen a code turn malicious. You're eyes go wide, staring at W0NW00, you can't believe it.

All you can do is jump out of your seat and run over to W0NW00 to remove the electronic diagnostic band from his arm. You have to stop the data recording and terminate the code by eliminating the connection to the computer.

W0NW00 is aghast as you tear the band off his arm, your hands feeling warm on his cold body as you make sure there are no remaining connections to the system.

"Wonwoo," you whisper, sternly as you stare into his eyes. He seems to soften for once, sensing the urgency in your shaky words as you quell his anger. "You need to calm down. I understand you. I really do. But I need you to know you need to watch what you say."

"You understand?" Wonwoo exhales, feeling hopeful as you wrap up the diagnostic band tightly, nodding as you begin to fiddle with the band, acting as if you are troubleshooting problems with it in case management questions the removal of it.

"I do," you speak lowly, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you lock eyes with Wonwoo. "But you need to realize you're stepping into dangerous territory. I don't mean to interrupt you, but I'm trying to protect you."

For once, he is looking at you with relief. His eyes are full of stars as he actually feels like he's being heard for once.

For once, you are looking at him like he is human.

It makes him feel something he's never felt before.

Your breathing is shallow as you connect with Wonwoo for the first time, your heart pounding so hard in your chest that you can practically hear it in your ears. Wonwoo observes how flushed your cheeks are, registering how emotional you are actually feeling, and realizing just how serious you are.

"I'm going to put this band back on, but you need to proceed with the session just like any other. We cannot return to the same topic. Do not indicate any desire to escape." You emphasize this prior to wrapping the diagnostic band around his arm, a nod of his head confirming he's heard your words and has taken them seriously.

Returning to your desk, you begin to reload the software. However, before you finalize the restart, you softly speak again, "I will have to refer to you as W0NW00 again. I apologize, but please understand."

"I understand," Wonwoo's voice is hushed, a soft smile gracing his features as you breathe out in relief.

"W0NW00," you start, voice returning to a professional tone. You eye him closely, your mannerisms indicating that you have successfully started the program up, and are once again recording data. "I apologize for that. It seems as if the system crashed. Shall we proceed with the session?"

"Yes," Wonwoo indicates, trying his hardest to not overthink the current events.

Wonwoo understands it now. Understands that you aren't all systematic, that his words have an impact on you, and that you are receptive after all. He has more faith in you now, knowing that you're here to protect him.

You continue and complete the session as usual. However, this time there is an understanding between you and Wonwoo. One that you'll do everything to erase the data on. You'll do anything to help Wonwoo.

★+ Comfort in Your Thoughts, Voice, and Touch +★

Things have since changed between you and Wonwoo. You now start the sessions differently, you take the time to set up your computer, and you allow Wonwoo to remove his band prior to the program.

You told him you'd argue with the company that it's to save his charge. However, you now look forward to your talks with Wonwoo prior to your sessions, talking freely knowing that the computer is no longer able to collect each and every bit of information.

Wonwoo loves that you call him by his preferred name during these undocumented talks with you. He loves the melodic sound of your laugh when he cracks a witty joke. He feels an uncontrollable obsession developing within him that he can't quite understand.

Wonwoo feels better and feels more understood around you, he can see changes in your behavior. You're not as systematic, more relaxed around him, only returning to your default systematic behavior once he is connected to the diagnostic band.

Your touch haunts him, the feeling of your nimble fingers on his arm when you wrap and unwrap the band around his bicep has him overanalyzing his thoughts.

He feels lighter, he doesn't feel as burdened after being heard by you, understood by you, and connected to you by your fleeting touches. Wonwoo can't help but look forward to these sessions with you.

Who would have thought that'd been the case days ago?

Oddly enough, these sessions have been improving Wonwoo's negative state of mind, reversing the trend of his daily emotions and leading them in more of a positive state. Management has taken note of this, unsure if these changes are taking place when you haven't implemented any developmental changes in him.

For now, they don't question it.

Regardless, Wonwoo yearns to hear your voice, yearns for your occasional touch, and yearns to spend time with you. Even if it's him locked in this sterile room, he's glad it's with you.

Wonwoo has grown too comfortable for once. Inevitably, as he once believed, the system tends to disrupt everything that was once good.

★+ The Escape +★

You've begun hearing of members of 53V3NT33N escaping Earth and traveling to other planets. Wonwoo isn't aware of it, he's been stuck with you in R&D for days now after management has cracked down on his diagnosis.

However, today was a different day. Management knows you are erasing data. You were confronted with it before today's session. They've noticed peculiarities in Wonwoo's behavior, in the data reports you've returned, and in the results you've been providing. They've also noticed the increase in "blank" spots, and the increase in system errors, unlike the software systems that have been developed to perfection.

Albeit, you weren't providing any updates of substance, which wasn't per your reputation as a developer, and your lack of urgency during the time of other member's escapes was especially concerning to management.

Wonwoo can't help but notice the aggressive rate at your leg shakes. It's been like this since the beginning of today's session.

"Everything alright?" He questions, genuinely worried about your anxious state. You're never like this, even as you two have been sneaking more time together prior to sessions.

Wonwoo's words are drowned out, the tapping of your pen against the desk resounding through your head as you consider your options. You know it's time to make a move.

You have access to a ship. There is one in the development center that you could hijack, it was simple; you'd just have to make sure you tear away the tracking core to ensure the company can't locate you and Wonwoo.

You're haunted by anxious thoughts. Was it even possible to get Wonwoo out of this room without management noticing? Where would you even go? When was the last time you traveled to another planet? How will Wonwoo react to news of other members escaping?

Would Wonwoo even want to go with you? Does he even trust you enough?

You stand up from your seat, shutting down the computer in front of you just as quickly as you had booted it up. Striding over to Wonwoo, you make sure his band isn't wrapped around his arm yet.

"Wonwoo," you speak eerily calmly, "Your members are escaping."

"What?" He's confused, not quite understanding the weight of your words.

"It isn't just you who has implied leaving Earth, others are too. They've just held you here for a bit too long for you to know."

He's clearly processing, not quite sure where you're headed with this, but he leans towards you in anticipation, hanging on to your next words.

"Management is onto me as well," you breathe, voice quivering as you realize how serious this may be. "They know we aren't progressing with our sessions as I should be. They know I am terminating data. They are onto me, and I'm not sure how much longer they will keep me here."

The weight of your words settles on him. "What can we do? Where are the members going?"

"I can locate a ship. There are multiple in the terminal right off the plant here. If we are strategic enough," you pause, gauging his reaction. He doesn't seem appalled by the implication of your word so you can continue. "We can escape too, we can be freed from the shackles of this system like you've been talking about."

There's a minute's pause between you two as you both consider the situation.

"How can we trick management?" He ponders, hinting that he isn't against your suggestion, but he does realize this requires a bit more thought than just running.

"I just -" you stutter, uncertain of any plan. "I can't think of any way to fake that we are in our session. The band reports everything. Management will know if we leave our session if you never put the band on."

"I mean," Wonwoo thinks some more, peering down at the port on his arm where the band connects. "Is there a way," he slowly speaks, eyes implying what you're horrified he may reference as he peers at his port, "is there a way that we can tear this port out? Leave it with the band?"

"I'm not so sure about that, Wonwoo. I mean, it could have negative effects on your system, and I'm not sure how successful that would be. It would be too risky to the health of your network."

"It's worth trying," he pleads, already toying with the port on his arm, already seeming as if it were possible to remove the said part.

"You can't, I said it would be too risky-" you argue, but Wonwoo stuns you, pulling the port out of his arm. It's immediately recognizable that the port has disrupted something, and you can verify from initial inspection that it will definitely have an effect on the efficiency of his charging.

"See," he chides, but he can sense the effect on his system too. Nonetheless, he connects the port to the band, and the diagnostic band accepts the port. "It works, go check on your computer."

You rush to the computer, reboot it, and load the same software. You're jaw drops, almost unbelieving that the program recognizes the port without being directly connected to Wonwoo. It isn't feeding any valuable information, but it's recognizing that it's him regardless.

"It's working," you chime in disbelief, eyes wide as you turn to him, realizing this is the time to make the run for it.

"Lead the way," Wonwoo declares, encouraging you both to move forward with the escape.

There is no hesitation between you two as you lead him through the bright hallways of the R&D wing. There is a shortcut that leads to the terminal where the ships are, if you can get through there undetected, you are bound to make it to the ships.

If anyone were to spot Wonwoo, they would be suspicious. Of course, he's recognizable, and with everyone in the company being high-strung regarding escapes, it would be an immediate red flag.

Thankfully, you two make it unscathed to the terminal, and you work quickly to prep the ship.

"Wonwoo," you gain his attention from beneath the ship as he helps the best he can, mostly just on the lookout as you prepare. "I don't have the strength, can you attempt to pull the core out from beneath the ship? There is a tracking device, and we'll need to pull this before we leave."

"Of course," Wonwoo is quick to trade places with you. He works swiftly, but your eyes dart around the terminal. It's dreary, industrial, and clean. Everything you've started to resent over the past few days. It encourages your escape even more, a wash of relief falling over your shoulders as you determine this is the right situation.

Wonwoo appears from under the ship, the core of the craft held in his hands before he smashes it against the ground, shattering the material at both your feet.

"Let's go," you smile, climbing into the ship with Wonwoo and booting up the vessel. Your adrenaline has never run so high, you feel it through your veins as the vibration of the ship resonates through you.

It's been a while since you've started up one of these, thankful you were able to successfully start the craft up without issues. Wonwoo is impressed too, of course never navigating one himself.

It's a blur how you two escape, taking off at light speed as you accelerate up into space, leaving the stratosphere of Earth at a record speed, and focusing until you've fully left the exosphere.

You have no clear where to go from here, but, holy shit, you've successfully left. And you have Wonwoo here with you.

★+ The Long Path Home +★

It's a long path for you and Wonwoo. It's uncertain where you'll end up. You've heard of a planet called Lumen before, but you have no clue how to even get there. You're just thankful Wonwoo can even assist in navigating the ship between planets.

Your first stop is Opifex. After the escape from Earth, Wonwoo suffered significant damage during the boarding of the ship. His arm was damaged in the process of tearing out his main port, the tear in his arm reflecting in the functionality of his charging system. This concerned you more than Wonwoo could understand. You weren't sure if you could make this travel alone without him.

You rarely visited Opifex, but you had connections as you'd offer occasional assistance in developing robots that were created on this planet.

Your main connection was a level 3 robot named Changkyun. He had previously assisted in the creation of another idol robot, which you were the head developer of. You hadn't spoken to him since, yet you knew he'd be able to help Wonwoo. Discreetly at that.

You knew you weren't safe yet. Even if the tracking was removed from the ship and you had escaped from Earth, anyone could identify Wonwoo and the logo on your ship.

There was a constant state of fear during your travel to Opifex that you'd be caught. Tracked down. That Wonwoo would completely lose his charge.

"What is wrong, Y/N?" Wonwoo's concerned for you. He knows exactly why you're anxious, he is too. But he's hoping he can quell your anxiety somehow.

"I'm just tired, Wonwoo," you sigh, checking the ship's charge levels, anxiety only growing upon realizing you really do have to stop in Opifex soon. "Also concerned about getting to Lumen safely. We really need to stop at Opifex to make sure you're repaired before we even consider locating Lumen."

Wonwoo's free hand runs through your hair, the comforting motion alien to you, but you gladly accept it, leaning your head into his hand as he soothes you.

"How much longer until we reach Opifex?" You can tell Wonwoo is drained too. He needs Changkyun's help as soon as possible.

"I believe only a day more of travel," you confirm per the navigation. You know how to get there, and where to land. You decide against pinging Changkyun, in order to eliminate as much of a footprint as possible.

"Why don't you get some rest?" Wonwoo prods when he realizes your eyes start to roll back, head bobbing to the side after a while.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not," he smiles gently, making your stomach flip.

You oblige, not having the will to fight after the past events. You lay back in the cot behind the main seating area. Observing Wonwoo as he takes his place in the captain's seat, he adjusts the controls to his liking as he navigates Opifex.

Your heart pounds as you observe him, Wonwoo made you feel free, he made you feel safe even in times like this. You've never felt this way about anyone. It's hard to fall asleep, these thoughts consuming your mind.

Wonwoo turns back to check on you, the same soft smile making you flush as you lay on the bed admiring him. You can't help but feel a connection with him, emotionally, and desire even more.

Eventually, sleep took you after much contemplation of your thoughts.

When you awoke, it only felt like you had slept a blink of an eye's time. The ship rattled, alarming you and jostling you awake. Only to realize that Wonwoo had landed the ship. You immediately recognized the planet, he had safely landed the ship at Opifex.

Wonwoo's smile relaxed you even further, dusting off his pants as he stood up and headed towards you. As per usual, Wonwoo's hand ran through your hair, instantaneously soothing you.

"We've arrived," he coos softly, trying his best not to overstimulate you more in your drowsy state. "Just lead the way once you're ready."

It's easy to see he is drained as well, in desperate need of a charge, and you're relieved that you've made it to Opifex.

The both of you quickly tidy yourselves up, you do your best to cover Wonwoo's damaged arm, not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to the automation as you make your way to Changkyun's workshop.

There was an odd sense of security here, but you knew you had to lay low. You didn't want word of your appearance here. You knew his company would be looking for him, as that's all they were doing prior to the escape for the other members who had left before Wonwoo.

It was easy to find Changkyun, his shop was located where you had previously remembered it. It felt almost nostalgic coming across his shop, he had an eclectic style, yet the place was tidy enough to store and easily find all his supplies.

"Y/N?" Changkyun questioned in delightful surprise as you knocked at his door. "What are you doing here? It's been quite some time."

"Hello, Changkyun," you smile brightly. Something that Wonwoo can only pin as jealous pings inside him at your reaction.

How odd, he thinks to himself.

"Do you mind if we come in? I do have a favor to ask, which is why we are here," you speak quickly, emphasizing that you didn't just show up for no reason.

Changkyun holds the door open for you both, allowing you and Wonwoo to shuffle into the shop. Wonwoo takes note of the large magnifying lens contraption strapped to Changkyun's head, quickly noting that he is a Level 3 robot, and shows his own wear and tear after working all these years.

Wonwoo immediately deems him as trustworthy.

"What is this favor you are requesting," Changkyun prods, curiously eyeing Wonwoo as if he could understand where this was going.

"I can't share too many details," you speak hurriedly, beginning to unwrap the material around Wonwoo's damaged arm to provide Changkyun with a visualization of the problem at hand. "We've escaped Earth. However, in the process of avoiding getting caught, Wonwoo had ripped his port out. I think it's affecting his charging system. I just don't think we can go on for much longer until we have some sort of fix."

Changkyun hums in understanding, immediately resorting to his tools and materials. "I'm not sure if I'll have the materials for a level 1 robot, I haven't created one in quite some time, but let me see what I have."

You and Wonwoo let Changkyun search, shuffling around the shop quietly as you try your best to quell your anxiety. You hope and pray that Changkyun can help, there is no one else you feel comfortable resorting to. There is an unspoken trust that you have with the Level 3 robot, after spending years learning from his skills and further understanding the creation of robots.

Wonwoo's free hand is grasped in yours, you aren't quite sure when this happened, but it eases you slightly. You've grown to become attached to Wonwoo, amazed by how quickly things changed between each session and landing you in this scenario.

Thankfully, after a while of searching, Changkyun determines he has parts that will suffice, and will be enough to repair Wonwoo's system in order to allow him to charge properly.

Changkyun bids you off, encouraging you to get some rest as he makes the proper repairs to Wonwoo. You're continuously flooded with thoughts, but part of you feels better knowing you now have Changkyun's help. You hope Wonwoo can charge up before you continue your journey.

It takes a few hours, Changkyun claims the connections are not as direct as he thought they'd be, but by the time he is done, Wonwoo seems way too worn down.

Changkyun encourages you both to get your rest before continuing with your journey. He offers you a place to stay, it isn't much, but it's a spare bedroom in the back of his shop, offering it as a safe place to rest before continuing.

"Thank you," you hum sincerely, expressing your gratitude one last time before Changkyun wraps up for the day to head to his normal engagements. "Thank you so much for your help."

"Anytime, Y/N," he smiles, bidding you both good-bye and good luck on the rest of your journey.

That night you and Wonwoo share the crickety bed in the back of Changkyun's shop. Wonwoo had been timid originally, but you claimed it was alright, that it would provide you some more comfort if anything.

Wonwoo was relieved at that because he couldn't think of anything better. He was finally able to get closer to you.

Laying next to him, you adjusted the glasses and sat on the bridge of his nose, they'd always fall down a bit when he wasn't paying attention, a feature about him that you found so endearing.

Wonwoo was seeming better already, charging much faster than you anticipated. His hands found their way to your arm, nimble fingers running up and down your skin.

He could recognize the way your skin bubbled with chills, uncertain of what he was doing that made you react this way. His skin didn't react like this to touch, but the way yours reacts reminds him just how sensitive humans are.

"What are you doing?" You hum in content, enjoying the softness of Wonwoo's skin on yours. His skin was different, not nearly as warm as a human touch, but the synthetic skin was so smooth, feeling comfortable as it dragged across yours.

"What are these bumps on your arm?" He asks out of genuine curiosity.

"You're kidding," you laugh, eyes opening humorously to gauge if Wonwoo is serious. He is absolutely dead serious. "It's this phenomenon, we tend to call them goosebumps. It's a bodily alert that humans feel, a reaction to touch."

Wonwoo hums in acknowledgment, "Is it good?"

"In this case," you smile, enjoying his innocent curiosity, "it is very good. It feels nice what you're doing. Very soothing."

"What else causes goosebumps?"

You can't tell if he's twisting your arm at this point, looking for a reaction, because there is an insinuation in his tone as his hand drags upwards towards your neck, looking for more of a reaction from your skin. Which he earns, as goosebumps run all up and down your body at his barely-there touch.

His fingers travel to the crook of your neck, his hand wrapping around the back of your head and finding a home in your hair. He pulls you closer, testing the waters as he yearns to feel more of your body against his. Curious to see if he can pull more of a reaction out of you. It's all so new for him and he's hungry for more.

"Wonwoo," you whimper, allowing him to pull you into his body, your lips falling impossibly close to his perfectly molded ones. "Are you trying to send me into shock?"

You try to joke, but your words come out whiney as Wonwoo's lips brush yours.

"I don't know," he teases, his plush buds continuing to skim yours. "Is this good?"

"It's very good," you confirm yet again, your breath being knocked out of your lungs when Wonwoo's lips finally attach to yours. Kissing him is different, it's almost as if he's immediately on the same wavelength as you.

Your lips fall into the same rhythm, and you're just realizing this is something you've been craving for a while now. It becomes heated quickly, and Wonwoo's hands stay wrapped in your hair, ensuring you can't break away from the kiss.

He understands what it is like to be addicted to something now. He recognizes this feeling as lust, knowing of its effects and understanding why humans love it so much. He needs more of you and he needs more now.

Wonwoo pulls you on top of him, the motion feeling incredibly natural as he continues to kiss you, swallowing your little noises as you moan in delight.

You can sense him react to you in a similar manner as a human. You forget how advanced Level 1 robots are sometimes. You had been a bit worried that he wouldn't react similarly, but you can feel his cock swells beneath you.

"Wonwoo," you whine, finally breaking the kiss after what felt like light years of delight. However, you need more. "Please, need you to touch me. Need you to fuck me."

"I need it too, Y/N," he groans, the sound that comes from him is deep, uncharacteristic of his usual voice, but it sends shivers down your spine. Wonwoo is encouraged by the goosebumps that reappear on your skin, very apparent to him as you remove your shirt.

Wonwoo's lips instinctually wrap around your pebbled nipple, loving the way the bud peaks along with the bumps on your skin. He's even more encouraged by the sound that falls from your lips, a breathy moan that has his cock growing even harder.

"Please," you croon. "Can't wait much longer."

He's quick to pull his pants down, helping you stumble out of your shorts and underwear as well. He's amazed by how wet your nether regions are, and you're amazed by just how perfectly sculpted his cock is.

"You're perfect," you moan, running your folds over his length and pulling another groan of pleasure from him. "God, whoever created you did an amazing job."

You raise yourself slightly, teasing yourself with the head of his cock, the skin soft against your folds as you wet his length. You sink down slowly, your walls contracting in delight as your pussy greedily accepts his thick manhood.

Wonwoo recognizes the slight pain in your features as you accept him, but he can also sense the relief you feel as he bottoms out, feeling the contraction of your walls around him throughout his entire system.

"Let me ride you," you moan when you sense that Wonwoo is hesitant. "Let me take care of you."

He doesn't argue, overwhelmed by the unrecognizable pleasure he feels as you begin to bob up and down on his cock. Your nails dig into his skin, a sensation he's never felt before as they clamp into his shoulders, leaving divots in his synthetic skin and claiming your mark on him.

The pathetic noises that tumble out of you encourage him to move, his hips rolling upwards into yours and pulling even more deranged sounds from you, ones that encourage him to groan in enjoyment.

Wonwoo watches as a bead of sweat falls down your neck, loving the effect and glow that graces your skin. His hands wrap into your hair, pulling it up off your neck as you continue to ride his cock with more fervor.

He pulls on your hair tightly, enough for you to feel a tinge of pain, but it only increases the pleasure you feel in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your clit burns and throbs at the pleasure, your core heating and winding up tightly as you roll your hips against his, meeting each thrust of his.

"Wonwoo," you're screaming at this point, eyes blown out as you watch him, his jaw hanging slack as he becomes overwhelmed with the feeling of you wrapped so tightly around him. The friction of your pussy around his cock has him feeling engulfed in all ways by you.

The pleasure that builds inside him begins to feel impossible to fight off, he's unsure if he can hold this feeling back much longer, especially not when your walls throb around him with each thrust.

It's brutal at this point, the sound of your skin slapping against his, the visual of your breasts bouncing in front of him, and how you feel all too perfect like this.

"Y/N," he breathes out in desperation, "can't hold it for much longer. You feel too good."

"Good," you cry out, no longer able to hold your own pleasure back. "Finish with me, Wonwoo, release."

Wonwoo can feel the fluttering of your walls, the intense pleasure exploding inside you as you spasm around his cock, your body falling limp in his arms as you reach your high. Wonwoo is pleasured too, but you're not filled with cum, only watching as he reaches his own form of pure pleasure. He continues to thrust into you, driving you into overstimulation.

Wonwoo doesn't realize you're spent, especially since he can't necessarily be spent himself, he has the stamina of a Level 1 automation overall. However, he recognizes it after he pulls one more orgasm from you, holding up your form as your limbs can no longer hold your body up.

That night you sleep incredibly well in his arms, connecting with him on a level you would have never anticipated. This was something you would have never imagined as a developer, something you always condemned previously, as you feared growing a connection like this.

But now that you have it, you'd do everything to not lose it.

The next morning, you are awoken by a frantic Wonwoo. Changkyun had come early, informing you that there are correspondent Level 3 robots searching for you and Wonwoo.

Word has spread, and you're no longer safe here at Opifex.

Changkyun informs you that your ship has been reclaimed by the company. However, he offers you an older ship he has in the far back of his shop. It isn't the most modern craft, but it will get you to Lumen.

After providing you with the proper navigation and instructions on the ship, Changkyun bids you both goodbye yet again.

Thankfully because of Changkyun, you and Wonwoo are able to escape yet again, continuing your journey to Lumen. You continue to spend this time with Wonwoo, feeling more at piece in an unidentifiable craft, and knowing that his damage has been repaired.

It's comfortable with Wonwoo, you two work well as partners you've determined. You take shifts navigating the ship, Wonwoo has become quite the captain as you spend the next few days searching for Lumen.

Thankfully, your trip has come to an end, even though you've enjoyed the time with Wonwoo, the travel has been tough. You can see Lumen in the distance. A planet similar to Earth, yet seemingly a bit more thriving as you approach the safe haven planet.

★+ Lumen +★

Lumen. Wonwoo and you had finally landed safely on the planet. It felt safe. It felt like home. You felt as if you could be anything and everything you wanted to be with Wonwoo.

Lumen is similar to Earth, yet the land is lush and the population is diverse. Travelers from multiple planets have made their way here seeking safety. Here you felt accepted. You didn't have to consider the previous system of Earth. You weren't tied to anything.

Both you and Wonwoo could start fresh, and you both could sense this feeling. Wonwoo held your hand tightly, breathing in the fresh air and peering down at you. You looked peaceful, eyes shut as you did the same, head lulling back as the crisp air filled your senses.

This made Wonwoo's eyes flood with adoration seeing you look this free. He remembered what you once were like on the first day you met him. He felt lucky knowing he could be here with you, like this, now. He knows of others who weren't that lucky to have their partners with them after escaping their planets.

Here you'd settle with Wonwoo, in a quaint house where you two could be your true selves, and not worry about others' expectations of you two. Wonwoo holds you tightly at night, knowing that he always has you, the first person who has ever understood and listened to him. The unexpected developer that he can live freely with.

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fic #SCI-FI seventeen collab #svthub #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen fics

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bonefall · 10 days

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Windstar's kits in BB are Dust Muzzle and Morning Whisker. With the former being renamed Dustiest Muzzle to fit naming conventions. But whats Morning Whisker's new name? Esp since you said that they will probably be the leader after Windstar passes and theres already Morningstar of ThunderClan (my beloved).

TO RECAP FOR THOSE COMING IN;

There's three groups in BB!DOTC now; Park Cats, Mountain Cats, and Forest Cats. Forest cats are the oldest cultural group and have lived around the White Hart for decades. Park cats arrived a few generations ago following their king away from the destruction of their home down south. Mountain cats recently followed Gray Wing the Wise down from the north at the beck of prophecy.

Forest cats are given a simple, natural name, and then their talent earns them a suffix from a small pool of traditional meanings. Bee, a strong fighter, might earn -sting, -slash, or -stone.

Mountain cats inherit the last names of their parents, and are usually given first names that work with them. Tempest Sky and Quiet Wing's children are Gray Wing and Clear Sky. Quiet Wing then had another litter with Stone Peak, and they were named Fluttering Wing and Jagged Peak.

Park cats are born nameless. They're given simple descriptions about their physical traits, traditionally until they're given a mentor. They spend their adolescence as (Mentor)'s Paw, until they make an achievement that is worthy of their leader giving them a title of three words or less.

Normally the leader is the King, but the Wind Coalition broke off from the River Kingdom many years ago. The Wind Runner sees herself as being much better than a King, HER kingdom is self-made, battle-tested, unprotected by the powerful river or the secretive forest.

Moth Flight isn't her child anymore, but I do know I want The Wind Runner to keep three total. At birth, the kittens were "named" Littlest One, Middle One, and Biggest One.

(It's tradition that the first real name of a Park cat is their apprentice name, but Windy is BURSTING with hubrice and LOVES breaking traditions. So it's possible the three of them did something different.)

SO currently I'm thinking their new names are;

Emberkit: Littlest One -> Embers Under Rain

Morning Whisker: Middle One -> Prayers at Dawn

Dustiest Muzzle: Biggest One -> Dustiest Muzzle

Embers might still die rather young, but at the very least she gets to apprenticeship. I'm not entirely sure on what I'm doing with her yet. If her name is a title, she managed to light a fire during a rainstorm (probably using flint)

Dustiest Muzzle gets his title from being an early tunneler and both bold and curious enough to stick his nose in every burrow. It actually reads as kind of unearned though, you could put it in English as "works harder than everyone else" which he probably just got because he's the son of The Wind Runner.

(Not that he isn't hardworking, just that Windstar doesn't even pretend she isn't biased.)

And Prayers at Dawn is interesting, because praying to future Clan cats looks like tilting your head upwards, and feeling the wind stir your whiskers. In Ancient Parkmew, her name meant something more like "Rousing Whiskers at Sunrise." I like the idea that she's quite religious for some reason, possibly also a friend of Moth Flight when it comes time.

The Parkmew word for "whiskering" eventually becomes the Clanmew word for the physical position of making prayers.

So Prayerstar would be a perfectly good name to avoid the conflict of Morningstar down the line later, BUT I'm also tempted to make the name MOURNINGstar and maybe have her take Mourning Whiskers as a title during her life.

Maybe even as a self-given title of great sorrow. I could have her become very close to Moth Flight and make her heart break when Moth and her children agree to split themselves up across the five Clans in Moth Flight's Vow.

Hmmm... perhaps Windstar's last life withered away pretty slowly, and Mourning Whisker knew she was going to inherit the Wind Coalition on the brink of war with SkyClan already attacking. Moth and her kits knew that WindCo would defend them all with their lives, and that's exactly why they knew they couldn't stay.

#better bones au #BB!DOTC #Moth Flight's Vow #I need to make a new fragments thing for BB!MFV since a lot more stuff is in it now #But overall BB!DOTC is the part of bb I need to organize the most #And I have Bad At Organizing disorder

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kairiscorner · 8 months

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reader creating silly miguel emojis and sending them tk the spider society gc for everyone to use bc shes a fun gal ;p (and she likes annoying him too)

fr. (did i legit make a whole ass dc server for this? yes.) sorry i didn't change my display name to y/n, i got lazy 😭😭😭 also written ver with additional scenes under the cut !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

shitting on miggy cutely. 🫶— miguel o'hara x reader

✧ written version !! ✧

after lyla had signed miguel up for a discord account, much to his frustration, you immediately got a hold of his username (which was really generic, he named himself: 'miguelohara' at first, but lyla changed it up to: 'migolohellnawh') and added him to the spider society's discord server. you made a channel that was dedicated to showing miguel all the stickers and emojis you and the society had made that was just full of memes of miguel. thanks to earth-928's social media, you were all fed with silly stickers and emojis of him for days; you all had a spam channel where hobie and pav would have contests to see whose thumbs could spam more miguel shitpost memes, but that would be a story for another day.

as miguel got notified that he was added to a server, the first thing that caught his eye was the vulgarly named channel of the server: "shitting on miggy". he brought his eyebrows together and tapped on the bold text of the channel's name. he asked what that channel was for, pointing out the name in a disappointed manner as he typed. lyla giggled under her breath as she watched miguel try to act intimidating and angry over text, but his scrunched up face crinkled even more as he saw that the first thing you sent him was a sticker of his stern, stoic face that had the words: "this ugly son of a bitch is fucking super hot chicks and basically you are fucking stupid. how? ...just watch the free video."

miguel had clicked the sticker, and he saw the file name: "singlehotmominyourarea". he huffed as he texted you, asking you what that was that you sent, because he thought it was an actual link to something. he took his reading glasses and, when he could make out what it said, he got angrier than he already was earlier. he told you what you sent was not at all funny, and when you replied that—no, it certainly wasn't... it was very hysterical, though—you sent him a very pink and cutesy sticker of him with cat ears. miguel groaned as lyla took a hundred screenshots remotely from his phone. "where are you even getting these?" he asked you as you kept sending him more shitpost stickers.

"but i don't even like horses." miguel muttered as he saw the "save a horse, ride a cowboy" sticker you sent. "yeah, you're scared of them." lyla reminded him as he rolled his eyes. "no need to remind me." he said as he typed out that he 'hated' (didn't fear, there's a difference, and that is that miguel is fucking lying, he is scared of horses) horses. but of course, you knew his secret, and miguel pounded his fist against the arm of his computer chair. "are you seriously telling them on your end?" he asked lyla as she stuck her tongue out and shrugged, looking all smug as miguel grumbled and told you that he didn't ask for your correction, only for you to send an emoji of your favorite girl dinner: his five course meal ass on display.

"yeah, you need ass correction 'bee cee' this bakery is packed; what...?" he read aloud as lyla groaned. "get with the times, old man." "we don't say stuff like that in 2099 anymore, don't tell me to get with the times." he told his AI assistant as he looked through the emoji catalogue you guys had, and among them all, a colorful one stood out to him and he sent it—hoping you could tell him what was on the emoji, but knowing you, you'd of course mess with him again. you told him the emoji, which was promptly named: "doublecheekedup", meant the very sticker you sent him in response. it was similar to the cat-eared one, but it read: "i <3 my girlfriend", with miguel's angry face in the heart.

miguel looked at it all confused and pulled his reading glasses away from his face and back on to see if he was reading this right. he asked you if he was supposed to be flattered about your sticker, with him immediately following up with his honest opinion; that it was irritating instead of flattering to him. you told him the sticker was more 'sexy' than it was irritating or flattering, and you soon sent him another sticker, where he was diving face first with his legs spread and bottom out. miguel looked at it all baffled and flustered, where were you getting these photos...?

you asked him who he was spreading for, asking if it was you, while sending him an emoji with his back turned to the camera and his ginormous bottom in full view. miguel couldn't make out the text in the emoji and told you the text was too minute for him to read it. he also cleared up that he wasn't intentionally spreading his cheeks for anyone, he had just 'stumbled'. "sure ya did." lyla said as she appeared over miguel's shoulder with a smug grin on her face. "i really didn't, though." miguel said as lyla nodded slowly, her smug grin not leaving her face as miguel saw your next message. "because you wanted to spread your asscheeks for me, i didn't spread for anybody!" he screamed aloud in the confines of his office, pounding his fist on the arm of his computer chair as you sent the girl dinner emoji that was the very profile picture of the spider society's discord server.

miguel was heated in the face and heaving... oh, was there some unspoken feelings he was hiding about your little provocative words? maybe... he might sound like he wants out of the server immediately, but deep in his heart, he'd stay; even if you'd annoy the shit out of him with those damned emojis and stickers. they were irritating, yes, and maybe just the tiniest bit flattering in a twisted way for him. "wow, you're a masochist." lyla pointed out as miguel mumbled for her to shut up, but she was right as always.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @ophanimgold @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #atsv #atsv miguel #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv fluff #atsv imagines #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse fluff

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katiekatdragon27 · 3 months

Text

Guys sorry, I am not immune to Hazbin/Helluva propaganda. I am also not immune to criticizing the designs and character motivations.

So! Let’s start with one of the most redesigned characters in the show: Beelzebub^^

So, sorta hot take, I really like the idea behind Beelzebub in the show. Ik "boo tomato tomato," but hear me out. I like how she is meant represent the hellhounds she rules over (ik she actually is a reference to Jay Jay, but let me have this connection PLEASE). However, the source material is very bug-like and compact.

The HB Beelzebub is NOT that bug like. Or compact.

With this redesign, I decided to pick all the stuff I liked about the og, and what I wanted to see more of. I kept her colors and general vibe but made her more built like a bumble bee with more inspo from the fly Beelzebub.

This is what I got.

Progress doodles n stuff below cut (it's gonna be an essay, y'all know the drill):

(She was much sharper in the sketch lol)

DESIGN EXPLANATION:

Anyways, I always imagined Beelzebub to be, y'know, more BEE like. The show did not give me that, so I did it myself. I made her wings bigger, gave her an actual bee tail and face (with the proboscis and stinger too), and more stripes and fluff. I also made her small and slightly chubby. Gotta hone the bumble bee.

I thought the hair made the original design too cluttered, but I wanted to keep the party colors. To compromise, I stuck all the goop in her tail. It sort of works like a firefly's abdomen and a lava lamp. I also nullified her cloths, so they would blend more with the body and help pop the neon colors in her eyes, antenna, and tail.

When she stands at her normal form, she is the smallest of the sins. But when she is in her "true" form (that I have not illustrated yet), she is the biggest of the sins. This is a reference to how gluttony starts small but gets really large over time, both mentally and physically.

As for additional details, I wanted to keep her "foxness". So in a brilliant brainstorm of ideas, I came up with the concept of "Masks". Basically, all the sins I'll redraw will have them. The masks are meant not only to represent their hellborn, but to represent how the sins pretend to be good things at first.

Stuff like "Rest a little more, it won't hurt" and "Be proud and don't care for what others say" are how they present on the surface, but if you continue those mindsets in a toxic way, it turns into sloth and pride and stuff instead of self-care and being proud of things.

For Bee specifically, it's "Have a little more, you deserve it!" and she has a hell-hound/fox mask. This also feeds into her personality change.

PERSONALITY CHANGES:

In the og, she's a party animal who cares for... moderation??? Yeah, I hate this about Helluva Boss. Why is it so hard to write *sshole/negligent people in power and why is it only Mammon who's allowed to be like this? Give me more morally dark grey powerful people!

That's where Bee is different for the redesign. She runs te lowest ring in hell and is in charge of hellhounds, the lowest species in hell. B/c of this, she is much more lenient compared to the higher ranked sins in hell, which is why she is often seen talking and hanging out with lower classes. (She gets slack for this from the other sins). She is also the only sin who has had open relations with lower class citizens all the way down to hellhounds. However, none of them last. Most of her relations outside of the sins are one-night stands and flings.

As for how she sorta sucks: she is still a party animal, yes, but she purposely chooses to be blind and ignore all the suffering that occurs at the parties. People have fun, but they overindulge, and as a result get sick, sad, and violent. However, Bee leaves the parties before they get this way. She does not want to see it. She is negligent. When she comes back to the party aftermaths, she quickly gets her workers to clean everything, so she does not have to discover anything gruesome and sad. She just wants to live, party, and see people "happy". (Sort of like Gatsby's parties minus the pining for a single woman who does not care for her).

... I wonder what would happen if that mental image she had shattered? I guess only the future will tell.

But anyway, if you have any questions or characters you recommend I design or redesign, feel free to ask lol.

I hope this made at least a little sense. Have a lovely day^^

#beelzebub is probably one of my favorite sins in the show aesthetically #but it's so cluttered and looked so painful to animate #also having her be stout and fluffy seemed so novel to me #no more skinny girls with thick thighs give me tiny girls with thick everything #hazbin hotel #hazbin art #helluva boss #helluva fanart #helluva beelzebub #helluva beelzebub redesign #redesign #character redesign #vivziepop #helluva redesign #helluvaboss #also if you don't like this please don't comment that #i don't need that negativity in my life this is just for fun #katiekatdragon27

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writer-in-theory · 1 year

Text

Happy Birthday, Eddie Munson — steddie.

Summary: Steve meant to slip the birthday card into Tina's locker, but the smile on Eddie Munson's face made it all worth it—even if he forgot to sign the card. Prompt: C1 - Secret Admirer Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Teen Word Count: 5.4k Content Warnings: Language, Minor Self-deprecation, Hospitals Read On AO3: Here A/N: This is another fill for @harringroveson-bingo !!

When Eddie was fifteen, he had a secret admirer.

It was simple and unexpected, just a birthday card slipped into his locker the week of his birthday. It was one of those corny ones from the general store, with a little bumblebee on the front with text that read ‘Hap-Bee Birthday’. The inside had a handwritten note tucked in the corner, the words shaky and curved like the writer had been in a rush.

Happy birthday, gorgeous. I hope you have a day as sweet as you are, you deserve it.

There was no name, no hint as to who would have bothered wishing Eddie “The Freak” Munson a happy birthday when no one had seemed to care before. He’d tried to look at every face in his graduating class that day, searching for a smile or nod, even a pen streak in the same bright blue that had been used on the card. Yet, no one had given him anything. In fact, besides Uncle Wayne, the only person who’d even acknowledged his birthday at all was that secret admirer with their silly little card that Eddie would treasure. All Eddie could do was tuck the card into his locker for safekeeping, leaving it there front and center for two weeks before he finally took it home to stash in his room.

The next year, when Eddie had grown older and a little meaner, hardened by the crueler words his classmates had learned through high school, he hadn’t been expecting anything. And yet, despite his worries, when he opened his locker on November 5th another card was waiting for him. It was the same dorky kind of card, this time with a pair of otters holding hands and a caption that read ‘Happy birthday to my otter half’.

Immediately he was grinning, looking down either side of the hallway in an attempt to find whoever had left the card behind. When no one stood out obviously, he turned his attention back to the card, hands shaking as he opened the card in search of another handwritten note from his admirer. Sure enough, in the same blue ink was another note. Eddie couldn’t help but think that his admirer was working on their handwriting since this one seemed more intentional with far fewer shaky lines and near-illegible letters.

Happy birthday, gorgeous. If today is half as wonderful as you are, then it’ll be a damn good one.

Still no signature. There still wasn’t anything else to go off of, except for the fact that they were clearly still in school too. With only one note per year though, Eddie knew it would be near impossible to find out who was sending him birthday cards. So he’d hold onto the ones he had, keeping them close for the reminder that there was someone in the school who understood him. There was someone—though they were obviously too scared to admit it—that saw Eddie as lovable.

He wanted to know all about them. He kept the cards in a box in his room, occasionally pulling them both out to re-read. Maybe he could find some clue hidden within the words, something that would give him a hint as to what his admirer was like. Eddie didn’t even need to know their name yet, but longed to know anything that might explain why they’d chosen him. What kind of music did they listen to, and what did they want to do after school? Were they in the marching band? Did he already talk to them?

The cards continued. Senior year, he had another, resting on top of the books stacked in his locker as usual.

Happy birthday, gorgeous. If being like you means being a freak, then I want in. Don’t let Hawkins High get you down, you’ll show them someday.

Then, more curiously, his first repeat year came with another birthday card on the 5th of November. Considering he’d been the only one who’d been held back (and only because the teachers were refusing to help the “poor damaged Munson boy”), that meant his admirer had to be in the year below his.

It also meant that when May rolled around and Eddie didn’t graduate again, he inevitably had to say goodbye to his admirer forever. He still held onto the slim hope that somehow, his admirer would find a way to sneak a birthday card to him. It never came though, not even when Eddie had spent the night before wishing on every plane in the sky he’d call a shooting star, wishing for just one more chance to find this person.

By the time March rolled around, Eddie had forgotten entirely about his admirer. Between cheerleaders dying in his trailer, and pretty ex-jocks storming into his hideout yelling about magical wizards and a girl who can move things with her mind, an anonymous birthday wish seemed like the last of Eddie’s worries.

But when he lay on the ground of the Upside Down being torn into by demon bats from Hell, all Eddie could think about was that he hoped his secret admirer would find happiness. They deserved it, for ever thinking that Eddie Munson could be more than what Hawkins made him out to be.

When Eddie was thirteen and Uncle Wayne’s old dog died, Wayne had told him that death was sometimes the peaceful thing. It could be a good thing, it allowed those who had lived all the life they needed to rest. That seemed like a load of bullshit when Eddie woke up after dying, because nearly every square inch of his body felt like it was on fire. It also felt much colder than what he assumed it would be, given where everyone in Hawkins told him he was going after.

Death also looked like a hospital, for some fucking reason.

“Eddie?” Turning his head, Eddie was met with the sight of his Uncle Wayne slumped over in a stiff hospital chair, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. It looked like he was seconds from melding right into the chair, exhaustion carried in every joint.

Eddie had half expected to see the kids if he ever survived any of this, all of them gathered around him in the hospital. He’d at least assumed Henderson would be there, with Steve Harrington in tow like the ex-jock never had anything better to do than drive Dustin where he needed to be. Harrington, who was every bit as sweet, charming, and funny as Henderson had claimed he’d become, who’d made Eddie shamefully wish for even one more day of the Upside Down shit if only it meant spending more time with him. Eddie might’ve even hoped for Buckley and Wheeler, who’d begun to worm their way into his heart too, the bastards.

He supposed it only made sense that it was just him and Wayne again, together against the world as it had always been.

“Hey, Wayne,” Eddie tried to laugh through the scratchiness in his throat, sending himself into a coughing fit severe enough to have him sitting up and clutching his chest for relief from the burn. Wayne simply sat with him through it, reaching out to rub his back until the coughing subsided. “Sorry,” Eddie winced once it was over, not oblivious to the worry in Wayne’s eyes.

“Don’t you pull that shit ever again, you hear me?” Wayne stared at him seriously, not even trying to hide the tears making his eyes glassy.

Suddenly Eddie felt twelve again, sitting in a hospital bed exactly like this one while his Uncle Wayne told him that he was moving to Hawkins, Indiana. He’d felt small in the massive bed then too, squirming against the itchy sheets and tight bandages, wondering when he’d be able to smell fresh air that didn’t make his throat itch again. Wayne had held his hand then too, finally answering the questions with blunt honesty that no other adult ever gave him. He’d been the first to tell Eddie that the way his dear old dad had taken him on jobs, how he’d tried a getaway chase with little Eddie in the front seat could have ended with a greater tragedy than being bored in a hospital for three days.

He wondered how much anyone had told Wayne about what happened. This wasn’t the face of someone whose entire world had been turned around with admissions of monsters and hellscapes, but then again Wayne Munson was one of the strongest people Eddie had ever met in his entire life. Nothing would ever surprise him about Wayne, not even if he’d admitted he’d known about the Upside Down all this time.

“Sorry, Wayne,” was the only thing Eddie could even think to say. His head rolled to the side, squishing half of it on the pillow so he could properly face his uncle. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be,” Wayne forced out, though his entire body language relaxed after scrubbing his face harshly with his hands. His next sentence was spoken much softer like he was finally coming to terms with what had happened. “Putting yourself in harm's way, risking yourself for those kids...I’m proud of you, son.”

It wasn’t the first time Wayne had told him that. No, it was like he’d heard it somewhere in some self-help book on how to raise traumatized nephews because the man seemed to tell him it every day. Washed the dishes while Wayne was working? Proud father moment. Failed high school a second time but hey, his grade point average had actually gone up from the last attempt? He might as well have earned his degree that day with the way Wayne had whooped and hollered and shone in pride.

It was far too much to hear now though, remembering far too plainly what it had felt like to be eaten alive, to know that those moments could have been his last. He didn’t want to spend any time considering what it would have been like if the group hadn’t gotten him out quickly enough, or consider what Wayne would have been telling the group instead if he’d died a hero. Would he still be proud of him?

“No more hero moves, cross my heart,” Eddie answered, trying to give that same cheeky smile that used to make his uncle howl with laughter. “Everyone’s okay?”

“They were worried somethin’ terrible about you,” Wayne told him, gesturing to the other side of the hospital room.

Eddie wanted to cry when he turned his head. It was all cheesy stuff—little stuffed bears and balloons, and even a crayon drawing signed by Holly Wheeler. They all cared enough to leave him something, to wish that he’d get better even if they couldn’t be in the room when he’d woken up. There was one, though, that stood out to him even from the collection of items gathering on the counters on that side.

“Is that a birthday card?” he asked, turning to face Wayne again. “Who left a birthday card?”

Had his secret admirer really heard about what had happened already? Had they come by, leaving behind the card that had been missing the last November?

“So many of those kids’ve been in here, I have no idea who left what,” Wayne admitted, though did stand to hand Eddie the card. It was the same silly kind he might have found at Melvald’s, this time with a little strawberry and a caption telling Eddie to have a berry happy birthday. It was the note written inside of the card, though, that had Eddie blushing furiously.

Get well soon, gorgeous. I know it’s not your birthday yet, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not being able to wish you a happy one ever again. Stick around for quite a few more, for me.

Eddie kept the card close to him, right there next to the pillow on the bed. Even when the nurses came in to check on him, and Wayne had left to get ready for work, the card had stayed there to help him through every bit of his hospital stay. It was a lifeboat in the vastness that was his hospital stay, contingent on how well nightmare-inducing monster wounds healed over the next few days. Even when everyone else had to go back to their own responsibilities, his secret admirer remained there for him.

In the morning, he had a new visitor.

“Eddie!” the familiar voice screeched as the boy sprinted into the room, quickly followed by a pair of white Nikes and another voice calling after the first, “Hey, no! He could be sleeping, don’t yell.”

Nothing could ever prepare him for the speed at which Henderson rushed to his bedside, immediately wrapping his arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re awake! You can’t scare us like that, Eddie, it’s not cool,” Dustin said after pulling from the hug.

“Hey, couldn’t let Harrington be the only hero,” Eddie teased, sending a pointed look to the man standing in the doorway of the hospital room. “You can come in, I don’t bite. Or maybe I do now, d’you think this is how vampires are created?”

“You’re not a vampire,” Dustin scolded, though he was laughing too.

“You’re feeling better, Munson?” Steve asked when he finally moved away from the doorframe, eyes tracking the hospital bed like something might attack him if he dared turn away.

“I’m feeling about twenty pounds lighter,” Eddie teased, “I’d highly recommend the demobat diet.”

There was something so odd about making Steve Harrington laugh. The sound snorted out of him at first, like a burst of water from behind a dam as though he hadn’t truly intended to let it out in the first place. Then he’d seem to realize where he was, or rather, whom he was with, and then he’d grow red in the face and the laugh would peter out. Steve would wipe his hand over his mouth like he might be able to stuff the laugh right back in.

Eddie found himself longing to hear the sound in all its glory. He’ll add that one on the checklist after ‘graduate from Hawkins High’ and ‘clear his name of murder’.

“You’re a hero, Eddie!” Dustin told him as if being able to read his thoughts. “Hopper and Owens’ team of freaky government people—no, I know, trust me—spent all weekend working on a story. No one thinks you’re a suspect.”

“Just like that? Some government suits wave their hands and I’m just fine?” Eddie questioned, instinctively looking to Steve for some kind of confirmation of what Dustin had said.

“Yeah. Some people in town aren’t taking it too well, but mostly...you’re free,” Steve confirmed, smiling brightly.

Apparently, they’d told the town it was an earthquake and not the death of an interdimensional monster that had been created in Hawkin’s very own freaky ass lab. Wayne had been told a little of what happened after he’d questioned the whole cover story, but mostly they left it for Eddie to explain when he was ready.

Though there was some damage to the town, it wasn’t enough to completely destroy the town’s functions. School was still continuing, and as much as the Party begged to stay home so they could visit Eddie, their parents said no. Dustin had wanted to come sooner, he’d told Eddie about four times the entire visit, but their lives were all hectic after the final battle.

It made sense, it did. It didn’t help Eddie’s loneliness in the moment, but he’d get through it. He was used to pushing through the tough moments on his own.

“What’s that?” Dustin asked, not bothering to wait for approval before he was snatching the card from under Eddie’s pillow. “Birthday? I thought it was in November.”

“It is, you nosey little brat,” Eddie laughed, reaching out for the card again. “I’ll have you know, I have a secret admirer.”

“Seriously? Who is it?”

“If I knew that, they wouldn’t be very secret, would they?” Eddie said. “I don’t know. Went to high school with them. I’ll find them eventually, if they want me to.”

Dustin change the topics quickly when the idea of romance and secret love grew to be too boring for him. It was easy to listen to the kid talk, every once in awhile throwing in a comment that would reroute the conversation more often than not. It was nice, relaxing. If Eddie closed his eyes, he could almost imagine the Upside Down had never happened and he was sitting back at Hellfire Club with all of his friends.

Dustin stayed until Steve was reminding him of the curfew his mother had set for him. He’d hugged Eddie tight then hurried out of the room, leaving Steve to awkwardly raise a hand in goodbye with the promise to be back again soon.

Eddie hoped Steve kept his promise.

The birthday cards kept appearing. Eddie tried to stay awake to catch the suspect but time and again, he’d inevitably succumb to the pain medications pumped through the drip line, waking up to a new cheesy card. No one on the staff seemed to want to tell him who it was either, either saying they hadn’t seen anyone drop it off or that there’d been a handful of people his age who came to visit and it could’ve realistically been any one of them.

“I’m starting to think it’s a joke,” Eddie explained, setting the wooden box Wayne had brought over for the cards back on the side table. “Harrington, have you seen anyone else coming in here?”

That was the other odd change. Steve Harrington came to visit him nearly every day, even if it was a quick visit before or after his shift at the Family Video. He told Eddie it was because the others were busy with their families, and weren’t allowed out of the house after disappearing for a day and being accused of being in a cult, but Eddie couldn’t help but think it was because he was a hair lonely, too.

“Me? No, haven’t...haven’t seen whoever it is,” Steve answered, rubbing at the back of his neck and tugging at the hair there. “Do you have any ideas?”

“That’s the thing!” Eddie shouted, feeling the excitement building in him at the chance to talk about this with someone. No one else had seemed to understand the significance of it all, that they were more than just birthday cards but promises of something good and worthwhile being in Hawkins. It was the promise that, somewhere out there, someone had looked past all the rumors and dramatic gestures and had seen him. They’d seen him and wanted to stay.

Apparently, Steve Harrington understood it too. The Harrington-Wheeler breakup scandal had been well-known throughout the school, and it hadn’t been difficult to see the downward progression in the jock’s moods after the infamous scene—so it was easy to figure that Harrington understood deeply what it meant to not be wanted.

“He doesn’t leave many clues. I know he graduated in ‘85 but that’s all I can figure out.” With little to do in the hospital, it had been the perfect time-consuming activity for Eddie to pour over each and every card, searching for anything that would tell him more about this person.

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’?” Steve asked, hands fidgeting with themselves in his lap. He’d said it out loud, hadn’t he? Eddie hadn’t meant to reveal his second theory, especially not to the King of Hawkins himself who might’ve once beaten him up for such a confession.

“The handwriting, mostly,” Eddie conceded. “Don’t worry, big boy, just ‘cause I like guys doesn’t mean I’ll come onto you too.”

“No! No, I know that Eddie, I do,” Steve rushed to correct, even lifting off the chair a little in his seriousness. “I—Shit, I’m...I like guys too. And girls. I just like people, I guess.”

There weren’t many things that could leave Eddie speechless. The time he saw Judas Priest in concert, the first time a guy had ever kissed him when they were high in his van, and now Steve Harrington telling him that he was bisexual. All Eddie could do was stare, even when Steve began to blush and curl his shoulders inward under the look.

“It’s not that big a deal, man,” Steve tried to brush it off, rubbing at the back of his neck again as if to broadcast his nervousness.

“Jesus H. Christ, this is a huge deal, Steve!” Eddie shouted excitedly, moving as well as he could to sit cross-legged on the bed, facing the chair Steve was bent over in. “This is the hugest fucking deal. You, Steve “The Hair” Harrington, like to suck dick with the rest of us. You know what this means?”

“What does this mean?” Steve asked, with the sort of fond exasperated look that made Eddie want to take a picture and keep it close, forever.

“It means you’re a certified, genuine freak!” Eddie cheered, hardly minding the strain in some of his healing wounds when he raised his arms in the air to cheer. “Welcome to the team, Stevie, how’s it feel?”

“Honestly?” Steve asked, tugging his hand through the front swoop of his hair. It was almost irritating how often he could stick his hands in the mop and still have it look devastatingly perfect. “It feels pretty good, man. If I’d known this is what it was like? I would’ve been a freak a long time ago.”

Then the man seemed to realize what they were talking about. He shook his head a little, head dipping like it was too much to make eye contact with Eddie at that moment. “Anyway, your secret note guy. You’re really serious about finding him?”

“He’s remembered to wish me a happy birthday every year for four years, Steve,” Eddie answered nearly immediately. “He remembers me, every year, and always takes time out of his day to let me know that. Of course, I want to find him.”

“But what if...what if he’s not what you’re expecting? What if you get disappointed?”

It was a possibility, Eddie supposed. It could end up being all a joke, or just someone who wanted to pay kindness to someone who needed it without really wanting any kind of relationship in the end. It could all still be a dream, too, and he’d wake up back in Hawkins High without having anyone in his corner.

“As long as they’re real, I can’t be disappointed,” Eddie admitted, hoping it didn’t sound as cheesy or desperate as he felt.

They didn’t talk about his secret admirer again. Instead, they talked about plans after school and how all the kids were doing now that they knew with absolute certainty that this Upside Down shit was done for good. Steve stayed until sunset and one of the nurses came in to remind him that he still had to follow visiting hour rules too.

A week after the Upside Down, something went wrong.

They were calling it some kind of infection, and it had spread too quickly to stop it early. By the time they had any idea what was going on, Eddie was sweaty and gross, too out of it to understand anything. In brief flashes of consciousness, he thought he heard the staff telling Wayne that this was scary serious, that there was a chance he wouldn’t pull through after all.

It felt a little like he was on another planet, in those days when his body was fighting off some strange bacteria. There was no pain, no town of people to worry about when he recovered, just simple blissful nothingness.

And then he recovered.

It was like a rope was connected to his belly button, yanking him harshly back into his body with a pained groan. They were clearly still pumping him full of pain medication, but the overwhelming soreness that came from days spent in a stiff hospital bed still hadn’t eased.

“Eddie? Are you awake?” a voice sniffed out to his left, followed by the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and hurried footsteps over to his side of the bed. “Eddie?”

The room was too bright, as always. He wished hospitals had a dimmer switch or at least some way to turn off the fucking lights that were clearly trying to blind every patient in the whole damn building. Eddie winced, blinking through the blurriness that came from having his eyes closed for however many days he’d been out. Still, he wasn’t wholly convinced that he wasn’t still out, considering the sight before him now.

Steve Harrington was on his knees by the bed, holding onto one of Eddie’s hands between both of his own like it was a lifeline. Those big brown doe eyes were glassy and full of tears, letting some of them slip down in glossy tracks down his cheeks. The sight reminded Eddie of those Greek paintings he’d seen on a field trip to a museum in middle school, where the tragic hero looked absolutely gorgeous in their complete and utter sorrow. He hadn’t understood at the time why anyone would want to capture people in their grief forever, but looking at Steve’s fragile expression now, he almost understood.

“God, Eddie, I thought you were gonna d—” Steve winced, cutting himself off before he could say the word they both were thinking.

“Hey, can’t get rid of me that easy,” Eddie chuckled, voice a little deeper and rougher from disuse. “Please don’t cry, Steve, I’m not worth all those tears.”

“Stop, please,” Steve suddenly begged, eyebrows drawing together in near frustration even as a new wave of tears fell over his lower eyelids. “I wish you’d stop talking about yourself like that.”

“It’s okay,” Eddie told him, shrugging his shoulders as best he could in bed. “It’s really okay.”

“It’s not okay, Eddie, it’s not!” Steve pressed, using his free hand to scrub harshly at the tears on his face before reaching behind him on the chair for something. “It’s not okay. You keep letting everyone around you act like you’re not the kindest, funniest, most badass person in all of Hawkins. Like, for some reason you don’t think you’re worth the effort either and that...that fucking sucks, man.”

Eddie’s pretty sure he died and went to some version of heaven, because after the kind of speech he thought only existed in the cheesy romance films Wayne liked to watch when he thought Eddie was asleep, Steve pulled out a birthday card.

A fucking birthday card.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but every time I try to talk I just mess it up,” Steve continued, holding out the card with a shaky hand for Eddie to take. “I’m no good with my words but...but I can do this, so...”

The inside of the card was filled to the brim with writing, the words as small as possible while still being legible. Eddie’s hands quivered as he tried to read, having to rest the card on the bed finally to make it even possible for him to focus.

Happy birthday, gorgeous.

I know your birthday is November 5th, but somehow I can only find the courage to tell you how I feel in these cards.

It was an accident, the first time. I meant to put it in Tina’s locker next to yours, and then even worse I forgot to sign it. But maybe it was for the best I had because you never would have thought it was something good if you’d known it was me, back then. I wasn’t going to do it again, but I saw that smile when you read it. I saw it when you opened your locker days later, I saw how your entire face would soften like it was the most prized possession you’d ever had, and I knew then I was hooked.

I looked forward to November every year after that. I wanted to be the one to make you smile, to bring you some sort of happiness. There was so much I wanted that I never thought I could have, but most of all it was you. I wanted to know everything about you, wanted to see what you kept hidden away from everyone else in the school. I wanted to know who Eddie Munson was.

And hell, I did. The Upside Down never did anything good, but maybe just this once I can say something good came out of being involved: I got to know you.

Then you almost died, Eddie. Twice. You almost died twice and I thought I’d never get the chance to tell you everything. I thought you’d die never knowing that you’re the most radiant person I know, and that every moment I get to spend with you I feel like the luckiest person on Earth.

I really like you, Eddie, and I knew maybe from the moment I first saw that smile that I would love you too.

Eddie read over the words once, twice, three times as if to make sure they actually existed and wouldn’t change on him. It didn’t seem real that after all this time, it was Steve who’d been his hope for so long. It was Steve Harrington who’d been able to see right through him from the start and didn’t run from what he saw. It was Steve Harrington who was the first person who made him feel entirely capable of being loved in that way.

“What the fuck,” Eddie hissed out, fingers running gently over the words like that might help him take them in better. “Steve, what the hell.”

The slight crumple in Steve’s expression should’ve clued Eddie into how his statement was perceived, but all he could do was stare with wild eyes at the man who’d just poured his heart out to him.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. It doesn’t have to mean anything, we can pretend it didn’t happen. But I needed you to know, I just needed you to know,” Steve hurried out, the tears beginning to build being the only thing that snapped Eddie out of his complete shock.

“Like hell, we can pretend,” Eddie returned just as quickly, “I don’t wanna pretend. Stevie, you...it was you.”

“It was me...surprise,” Steve said, voice lilting oddly like it was dripping with every ounce of self-deprecation that existed in the man.

“Steve, I really want to kiss you but I can’t move, help me out?”

It was Eddie’s turn to shock Steve then. He nearly laughed at the way Steve’s eyes widened impossibly further, eyebrows reaching as far up his forehead as they’d go. Even his lips parted at the statement, leaving him looking like he might combust if Eddie said another word.

Then, all at once, Steve was rushing to his feet and leaning over the bed. Large hands were grabbing at either side of Eddie’s face and Steve’s lips were pressed to his own. He was gentle at first, hesitant to give Eddie time to back away from the move. When no such thing happened, Steve pressed harder, one hand moving further back to tangle in Eddie’s unruly hair.

It was magical and impossible and absolutely glorious all at once. Eddie never wanted the kiss to stop, wanted to remain in this moment for however long the universe would allow him to.

He’d blame the breathlessness and the shock for what he said after.

“It’s November 7th. My birthday, it’s November 7th.”

Steve was still leaning over him, face so close Eddie had to go slightly cross-eyed to focus on him. The proximity allowed him to see every minute change in Steve’s face as the confusion set in, however. The little wrinkle between his eyebrows, the slight downturn to his lips as he thought about what Eddie had said.

“But...I gave the first one to you on the 5th. You knew I was getting your birthday wrong and it never upset you?”

Eddie shrugged a little. “It was close enough.”

“Well,” Steve started, laughing as he tossed the latest birthday card toward the end of the bed so he wouldn’t crush it as he leaned further onto the bed. “I’ll get it right this year, gorgeous, I promise.”

“You better, I’m looking forward to it,” Eddie teased through the burning feeling that washed over his cheeks.

Their second kiss was somehow even better than the first, as magical as Eddie’d been dreaming about for years.

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