Normal?....... bleh, being unique is more my forte
@allthingsr-betternotbeingnormal
The creativity and imagination is alive in my mind but to put it out on paper is a task of extreme complexity. @procrastinating-story-writer, for my stories
The first thing is to go to your tumblr in Google chrome. Screach for the fic post so you can copy the url. For example here I have the original post for the first chapter of one of my fics.
Next highlight and copy the url of the post. You do this by holding your finger over the address bar.
Open the app and make a new text post.
Type the name of your fic into the text post and press down then highlight the text. Click the button in the far right corner that looks like a chain link.
This will pop up so you can link the url.
Hold your finger down over the prompt box until it gives you the option to paste the url.
Click add link once you have pasted the url.
This should give you a live like! Repeat as many times as needed.
[Some relationships don't end because the love disappears⊠Sometimes, they end because the world gets too loud around them.]
As the voice fades, the screen splits. You on the left, Zayne on the right. Two different rooms. Two different lives. Same story.
You're framed in warm tones, like someone sitting inside a memory they've made peace with. He's framed in cooler tones, like someone who has learned to live with regret without letting it drown him. The show doesn't pit you against each other. It holds both of you carefully, letting your words exist side by side without interruption.
You look like the version of you that learned to choose yourself first. He looks like the version of him that learned what it meant to lose you. And as the interviewer's first question floats in. "How did the two of you meet?"Â It feels less like the beginning of an expose, and more like opening a door you both once closed quietly. Not to fix what happened. But to finally, gently, look back at when you were us.
[How did the two of you meet?]
The question hung in the air for a moment before you answered. You breathed out slowly, and then smiled. Small, reluctant, tinted with the kind of warmth that only comes from touching something thatâs been sitting in the back of your mind for years. A smile with dust on it, softened at the edges.
"It was accidental." You said. "I wasn't even supposed to be at that volunteer event. I was covering for a friend who got sick last minute." Your fingers traced an absent pattern on your knee as you continued.
"I was rushing, I remember that. They handed me an apron, pointed me toward the tables, and I was trying not to drop a stack of cups. I turned too fast and just⊠Bumped into him. Full-on collision." A quiet laugh slipped out of you. "I apologized without really looking at his face at first. And then, when I did, I remember thinking he looked familiar⊠But I couldn't place him. It didn't feel like meeting an idol. Just⊠A person who happened to be in my way."
The host let the silence rest there for a beat, then. It cuts to Zayne's interview.
He didn't smile when they asked him the same question. Not right away. His gaze dropped to his hands, lashes lowered, like the memory was something fragile he had to hold carefully or it might shake loose everything around it.
"I noticed her first." He admitted after a moment. "Before we even spoke." His voice was calm, but there was a thread of something softer running underneath. "She was wiping tables near the back." He went on. "Hair tied up badly, like she'd done it on the way there. Apron crooked, sleeves rolled unevenly. Everyone else there seemed very⊠Prepared. Like they knew there were cameras, managers, staff watching."
His eyes lifted slightly, not to the lens, but somewhere past it. "But she didn't look like that. She looked⊠Real. Like she'd just stepped out of her day and into this one without changing for it. Like the world didn't have claws yet." A faint exhale. "I think that was the first moment in years that I remembered I was human. Not a product. Not a headline. Just a person standing there, watching someone exist without performing."
For a brief second, the screen split down the middle. On the left. You, smiling softly at the memory, eyes distant but gentle. On the right. Zayne, gaze lowered, the corner of his mouth barely tilted, like the memory hurt and comforted him at the same time. Your soft wistfulness. His quiet ache.
The same story, remembered from two different hearts.
[How long did the relationship last?]
The question made you pause for a moment. Your thumb moved slowly over the fabric of the chair's armrest, like you were smoothing out creases in time itself. Your gaze didn't harden or break. It softened, settled somewhere a little behind the cameras, where the years you were being asked about still lived.
"Four years." You said finally, a small, sure nod accompanying the words. "Four really full, really good years." You didn't rush to explain. The way you said it, full, good, held enough weight. The kind of years that changed a person, even after they were over.
Cut to Zayne. He didn't need to think. The answer was already there, sitting on the tip of his tongue like a number he'd repeated to himself more than once. Zayne exhaled, slow and measured, as if he was steadying something inside his chest.
"Four years, three months, sixteen days." He said. No hesitation. No calculation. Just quiet certainty. There was a brief silence after that. One he didn't try to fill. His eyes dipped for a moment, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. "It wasn't long enough."
No elaboration. No dramatic sigh. Just that simple truth, landing with the weight of everything he didn't say.
[Was it smooth sailing?]
You let out a soft laugh, almost affectionate, the kind that carried both warmth and a touch of sadness. "It was, at first. Really smooth. We found our rhythm. But⊠Then the peak of his career hit. And everything changed. Suddenly, things got loud, too loud for the quiet we'd built."
Zayne sat there for a moment, his gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the room, distant and pained.
"It was smooth." He murmured. "Until the cameras became heavier than our hands could hold⊠Heavier than us."
The air between you thickened, heavy with the memory of days when love felt simple, and the weight of the world hadn't yet pressed in.
[When you first started dating, what kind of future did you picture?]
You looked down, cheeks warming, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "It sounds⊠kind of silly." You said, voice soft, almost uncertain. "But I really did imagine a future with him. Nothing huge. Just⊠Something small. A home we could call ours, lazy weekends, maybe a couple of pets. A life where we could just exist together, without the noise of the world pressing in."
Zayne's response landed heavier, slower, as if each word carried the weight of years. "A quiet life." He murmured, voice low, almost breaking. "Away from everything. And⊠A family. I used to picture her laughing with our kids, the kind of laughter that fills a room. I don't think I've ever told anyone that before."
Behind the camera, the crew went still, as if even a breath might shatter the fragile memory he was holding so tightly. The silence stretched, full of unspoken longing, and the ache of what might have been.
[Before things got complicated, what was a normal day like for you two?]
You brightened, not in pain, but in the quiet warmth of remembrance. "Oh⊠We'd sneak into little cafes." You said, eyes softening at the memory. "Trying sweets he insisted I would love, even though he secretly had the biggest sweet tooth. They were always too sweet for him, but he'd still let me take the first bite, just to see me smile."
You smiled faintly, remembering the laughter. "And we loved being outdoors. Skiing in the mountains until our legs ached, hiking trails that ended in ridiculous views, biking until the sun dipped low. Holidays indoors, pillow fights, midnight grocery runs⊠Small things, but they made the world feel tiny and safe."
Zayne's expression softened too. This time not grief, but a kind of yearning that hurt because it had once been warm.
"Those⊠Those were the only times I felt like I belonged to myself." He said, voice low, almost trembling. "Being with her⊠It made me feel like I had a home. I didn't even know I missed that⊠Not until I lost it."
The camera lingered for a moment, capturing the fragile ache in both of you, the memory of ordinary days that had once felt extraordinary.
You remembered sweetness. The careless laughter on snow dusted slopes, the stolen bites of desserts he insisted you try first, the quiet evenings spent tangled in blankets, pretending the world outside didn't exist. He remembered loss. The empty silence after the cameras left, the nights where even the quiet felt too loud, the weight of hands that no longer held his.
You held those years like soft photographs, edges frayed, colors faded, but still warm beneath your fingers. He held them like heirlooms he had broken with his own hands, fragile pieces sharp enough to draw blood if he lingered too long.
The crew behind the camera moved carefully, as if even breathing wrong might fracture the fragile honesty between you. Both were true. Both were honest. Both were memories displayed on the same screen, two versions of the same love, intertwined yet separate, a story told together but felt alone.
-
The camera settled on you slowly, the room feel weightless like you were seated inside a memory rather than a filming set. You inhaled deeply, drawing in the quiet like a fragile melody, steadying yourself, gathering the scattered pieces of a past that still lingered in your chest.
The off-screen interviewer's voice was gentle, careful, as if not to disturb the fragile space.
[During the relationship⊠What was it like for you?]
You didn't answer immediately. Your lips curved in a ghost of a smile, your fingers fidgeting just slightly, caught somewhere between a sigh and a laugh.
"It was⊠Peaceful." You said after a pause, your voice carrying the softness of someone reopening an old, cherished book. "Even when the world around him was loud, chaotic⊠When cameras were everywhere, and people expected him to be someone else, he had this way of making the world quieter for me. Maybe that was the best part, how ordinary moments could feel⊠Enough. Like the world shrunk down just so we could breathe in it together."
Your eyes traced the outline of your hands, rubbing your thumb over your palm unconsciously, as though touching memory could make it linger. "I don't think I realized it then." You added, voice low and fond. "But I was⊠Really happy. Just⊠Being with him was enough."
The next question came gently. [Was it hard⊠Loving him?]
Your eyes softened instantly, as if the answer had been waiting there all along, tender and inevitable. "No." You said quietly. "It wasn't hard. Loving him felt⊠Natural. Even with the life he led, the spotlight following him everywhere⊠It never made it harder to love him. It was just⊠Loving him."
A soft, wistful laugh slipped from your lips. "He looked cold sometimes. Aloof. People assumed he was distant. But he wasn't. Not with me. He was⊠One of the sweetest people I've ever known, in the quietest ways. Loving him didn't require anything of me but⊠To be me."
Your smile widened slightly, gentle, protective of the memory. "And he tried." You murmured. "Even when he thought he wasn't enough⊠I always saw him."
[What did you dislike about him?]
Your smile faltered, not from resentment, but from the gentle ache of seeing someone you love shoulder burdens alone.
"There wasn't much." You whispered. "Maybe⊠That he carried everything himself. Even when he didn't have to. I wish he'd trusted me more, let me share it, lighten the load. But he didn't. He bore it alone." You paused, exhaling slowly, the sound like wind brushing old windows. "It wasn't a flaw. Just⊠One of those things that quietly hurt, watching him try to hold the world on his own."
The interviewer's voice softened further. [Do you think you were truly yourself with him?]
"Yes." You said immediately, before the question could even finish. "I think⊠He was one of the few people who made me feel like I could be myself when I'm with him. He gave me space to be myself, and I tried to do the same for him. Maybe that's why it all felt so real. We weren't trying to be anyone but⊠Us."
Your gaze drifted to some distant corner of the studio, as if searching for a part of him that lingered there, invisible but familiar.
[Looking back⊠What do you appreciate about him now?]
"Everything." You whispered, soft, warm, nostalgic. "Even with the fame, the misunderstandings, the silences⊠I still think of him kindly." You drew in a slow, steady breath, letting it settle. "Some people stay soft in your memories." You said, voice barely above a whisper. "He's one of them."
The interviewer hesitated, sensing the weight of what came next. [What's a small, ordinary memory with him that still feels vivid to you?]
You smiled fully this time, quiet, unguarded, luminous with tender sadness.
"Waking up next to him." You said simply, eyes glimmering. "He'd fall asleep so peacefully. I'd wake first sometimes, watch him lying there⊠Hair messy, blanket half off, so unlike the public image everyone knew. Just him. Just soft, breathing quietly. And for a moment, the world disappeared. No cameras, no schedules. Just him⊠And me⊠In a morning that could have lasted forever."
You swallowed, but the smile remained, steady and soft, the kind that warms even when it carries ache. "It's funny." You murmured, almost to yourself. "Of all the things to remember⊠It's that."
The camera lingered, capturing the gentle light in your expression. The quiet serenity of someone who had loved, who still loved, and who carried that love like a soft secret, tucked carefully in her chest.
-
The camera shifted smoothly to Zayne, settling on him with a gentle focus. A quiet tension lingered, measured breaths, a stillness that spoke of memories held close, carefully, almost reverently. The off-screen interviewer's voice was deliberate, careful, as if not to disturb the fragile space he inhabited:
[During your relationship⊠What was it like for you?]
Zayne didn't answer immediately. His gaze dipped to his hands, resting lightly in his lap, tracing shadows that existed only in memory. "It wasâŠ" He began slowly, voice steady, almost fragile. "âŠSimple. In a way my life never is." He exhaled softly, barely audible. "When I was with her⊠Everything felt quieter. The world, the cameras, the noise⊠None of it mattered. I didn't have to be anyone but myself. She didn't ask for more. She didn't expect more. And I think I only realized how much I valued that⊠When it was gone."
The next question came gently. [Was it hard balancing a public career with a relationship with someone who wasn't in the industry?]
"No." He said immediately, firm but quiet. His fingers flexed slightly against his knee. "It wasn't hard. I never tried to hide it, though people assumed I did. I wasn't loud about it⊠But that's not the same. I wasn't ashamed of her. I just⊠Wanted to keep her safe. From the cameras, the gossip, everything that comes with me." His jaw tightened, a faint tension in his posture. "If anything⊠The world made it hard. Not us."
The interviewer's voice softened further, almost tenderly. [Was it hard loving her?]
Zayne's answer came instinctively, a quiet certainty. "No."
Then, slower, like the words came from somewhere deeper, hidden until now. "She was⊠The easiest person in the world to love." His eyes lifted slowly, and for a brief moment, the grief he'd carried for years flickered openly, raw and unguarded. "She loved me⊠Just as I was. Not the idol, not the persona. Just me. Even when I didn't deserve it. Even when I didn't give enough back." He paused, letting the quiet linger. "I didn't have to pretend with her. That kind of love⊠It's rare."
The next question came softly, almost cautious. [What kind of partner were you in that relationship?]
Zayne let out a slow, steady breath, gaze lowering again, the weight of quiet shame settling into his posture. "I think⊠I received more than I gave." He admitted, shoulders lifting in a faint, reflexive shrug. "I was busy. Too busy. I didn't show up the way she did for me. She carried us in ways I couldn't. Even when I didn't speak about my struggles, she understood. She held the relationship steady⊠And I⊠Held onto that steadiness she created."
He blinked slowly, and then the next question came, softer, intimate. [What made the relationship feel safe for you in the beginning?]
This time, Zayne met the camera directly, voice low, reverent. "I could come home to her." He swallowed, chest rising and falling in careful rhythm. "And only her." Another quiet breath. "She was the one place where everything stopped. The noise, the expectations, the pressure⊠All of it ended at that door. I'd walk in, and she'd be there, sometimes smiling, sometimes reading, sometimes half-asleep on the couch but always there. And that was enough. More than enough."
His voice thinned at the edges, fragile, ghostlike, but full of memory. "She made home⊠Feel like an actual place. A real place. And I didn't realize how much I depended on that⊠Until it wasn't mine anymore." He blinked slowly, letting the quiet settle around him, and whispered softly, almost to himself. "Some people stay alive in your memory. She's one of them."
The camera lingered, capturing the careful reverence in his expression. The raw, controlled grief of someone who had loved fully, lost fully, and still carried that love like a treasured secret, held quietly against the chest.
-
The lights dimmed a little more, the background music softened, and the show eased into the segment every viewer had been waiting for. The part no one wanted to watch too closely, yet everyone couldn't look away from.
[Why did the two of you break up?]
You were shown first. Sitting across from the interviewer, hands resting loosely in your lap, your smile was soft, not sad, more reflective, tempered by time, the kind of expression worn only after survival.
"It was a long process, actually." You said, voice steady, calm, the edges tinged with quiet understanding. "People assume it happened overnight, that we just⊠Stopped. But it didn't. There were cracks before the scandal even hit. His schedule, the pressure, the constant attention. It wore on both of us. Bit by bit, the weight became heavier than we could carry."
You inhaled slowly, letting the pause stretch for a heartbeat. "And then⊠The scandal came up." Your fingers tightened briefly in your lap. "Everything we had, everything we built⊠It felt like it fell apart in a single night." The camera moved slightly closer, catching the faint flicker in your eyes, more resignation than pain, the acceptance of something inevitable. "I'm sure you all know which night I mean."
And everyone did. That night had burned across headlines like wildfire.
The feed cut to Zayne. He didn't look at the camera at first. His jaw shifted, once, twice, the subtle movements betraying the restraint behind the composed posture.
"It was my fault."
Four words. Quiet. Certain. Final. The kind of admission that didn't need explanation.
And the viewers understood. They understood all too well what 'fault' meant when a life under constant scrutiny collided with love, expectation, and public perception. He drew in a slow, controlled breath, letting it settle. "I couldn't protect her from the world. I couldn't protect us from what came next. And that⊠Is on me."
A pause lingered, heavy and fragile, before the next cut returned to your face, calm, almost serene. "Sometimes." You whispered. "Love isn't enough, not when the world keeps knocking at your door, uninvited, relentless. And sometimes⊠We have to let it go to survive."
The editing made the voices flow together, overlapping for a brief, haunting moment, two truths, two perspectives, neither wrong, neither fully healed, but both enduring, fragile and honest, like glass caught in sunlight.
They showed Zayne first this time. The off-screen interviewer's voice was gentle, careful. [Looking back⊠What do you think really broke the two of you, in the end?]
He didn't hesitate. The truth he carried had been rehearsed in quiet moments, tucked away in the folds of years spent replaying what went wrong. "Silence." A pause. A long, almost unbearable pause. "I left her in silence."
Nothing dramatic. Nothing defensive. Just a clean, devastating truth, stark against the soft lighting of the studio. And the way he said it⊠It was as if he still lived inside that echo of quiet, trapped in a moment he could never undo.
The camera shifted back to you. You settled in front of the lens, shoulders squared, forcing a calm smile that barely reached your eyes, as if bracing yourself to tidy the moment into something manageable.
"Looking back⊠What really broke us." You began, your voice steady at first. "Was me being scared of holding him back. He was at the peak of his career, and IâŠ" You paused, swallowing hard, the words catching in your throat. "I left, like I was moving in darkness⊠Like I was just another face in the crowd of our own lives."
Your hands twisted in your lap, fingers curling and uncurling with the weight of memory. "I knew he loved me." You continued, voice trembling slightly. "I just⊠Doubted myself so much. Watching him from afar, seeing him shine, seeing him live⊠It made me question if I even deserved a place in his world." You lifted your hands slightly, as if searching for something to steady yourself, your voice dropping to a fragile whisper. "Can⊠Can we take a moment? I just⊠I need a moment."
You turned your face away, letting the tears fall freely now. The walls you had built to appear composed crumbled entirely, leaving nothing but the raw, aching truth that had lived in your chest for years.
The camera lingered, catching the quiet tremor of emotion, the vulnerability of someone finally allowing the weight of her own heart to be seen. And in that moment, the viewers didn't just watch, you felt the silence, the absence, and the love that had once held everything together.
[What's the hardest thing to unlearn after loving them for so long?]
This was the one question where the two of you seemed to speak in a shared rhythm. Your words linked by the past, but the emotions beneath them couldn't have been more different.
The edit placed your voices back-to-back, a subtle conversation across years and memories. You answered first, a soft laugh escaping your lips like sunlight through a window, nostalgic but gentle, free of the sharp ache that once accompanied it.
"Taking care of someone else before taking care of myself." You said, voice low, reflective. "We were always looking out for each other, almost without thinking. And it took a while to remember what it felt like to just⊠Look after me. To let myself breathe without feeling guilty. To let the world be smaller for a moment, just for me."
Then Zayne's voice came, slower, heavier, carrying the weight of absence like a physical thing pressing against the chest. "Taking care of myself." He said quietly, the words deliberate, measured. A faint, hollow smile brushed his lips, fleeting and almost invisible. "She⊠She always reminded me to eat. To rest. To slow down. To breathe. When she left⊠I didn't know how to do any of that anymore. I didn't even know where to start."
He didn't need to say that she had been his anchor. The grief in his voice said it all, resonating in the quiet spaces between syllables, a reminder that sometimes love teaches you how to live and sometimes, it teaches you how to survive without it.
-
The music softened again for his segment, a quiet, almost reverent hush that seemed to acknowledge the weight of what he was about to share. It wasn't background noise for easy viewing. This was the kind of truth that demanded stillness, that asked the audience to lean in and listen without distraction.
Zayne sat with his hands loosely clasped in his lap, fingers shifting nervously, as if each tiny movement could tether the emotions he kept just beneath the surface. His posture was calm, composed but the subtle tremor in his hands betrayed the storm of thought and memory he carried quietly inside him.
The interviewer didn't ease him into the questions. There were no warm-ups, no gentle preamble. They never do. Because some truths aren't meant to be cushioned, they're meant to land, stark and undeniable, and for Zayne, they were about to land hard.
[Your relationship was confirmed by the public before it was ever acknowledged by your company. During that time, did you think about what it was like for her to face all that alone?]
His shoulders lifted slightly, then sank, as if the movement alone could release a fraction of the tension he carried. A slow, quiet breath escaped him, uneven, unsteady, like a tide brushing against jagged rocks. "Yes." He said, firm but soft. No hesitation, no deflection. "Every single day." He leaned back a little, eyes lowering, not in shame, but in the weight of remembering, the ache of replaying moments he could never take back.
"I knew what she was facing. Even if I couldn't be there to see it⊠I knew the internet could be merciless. I knew the industry would always protect its investment first, and a person second." A muscle in his jaw twitched, subtle, almost imperceptible but enough to betray the strain beneath his composed exterior. "And I knew⊠She was alone in all of it, because I wasn't allowed to stand beside her. Because I couldn't. And thatâŠ" His voice caught slightly, a pause that held years of regret. "âŠThat's the part I can't forgive myself for."
He spoke steadily, almost too composed, but the fracture beneath the surface was unmistakable. A quiet, lingering crack in a voice that had carried so much silently for too long.
[Do you think the relationship would've survived if you weren't an idol?]
Zayne didn't answer immediately.
He looked down at the floor, eyes tracing some invisible pattern across the studio carpet, lost in the kind of memory that TV cameras aren't meant to capture. The silence stretched, long enough to feel like a heartbeat suspended in time, too long for a broadcast, but the editors left it in.
"I thinkâŠ" He began, voice low, tentative, as if testing whether the truth could be spoken aloud. He swallowed, a small, deliberate motion. "I think⊠We would've been okay. Maybe even happier. Freer." Another pause, heavier this time, filled only by the faint hum of the studio lights. "If I wasnât an idolâŠ" His voice softened, almost breaking under the weight of regret. "If I wasn't under all that⊠Scrutiny⊠I could've chosen her. I could've chosen her over silence. Over distance. Over everything that kept us apart." He lifted his eyes briefly to the camera, just enough to let the world glimpse the quiet ache behind his restraint, before letting them drop again.
That line. Simple, understated, devastating. Would later trend for forty-eight hours, reverberating across fan forums and news headlines, carrying the weight of everything left unsaid between them.
[Did your schedule and the pressure from the industry play a big role in that difficult phase?]
"Yes." He said plainly, almost too plainly, as if stating the obvious could somehow make it easier to bear. "But that isn't an excuse." He exhaled softly, a quiet breath that seemed to release years of tension, though it didn't erase the weight in his shoulders. "I was exhausted. Overworked. Pulled in every direction, every day. Deadlines, appearances, expectations⊠They never stopped."
His gaze flicked downward, hands resting loosely in his lap, fingers tightening just slightly, betraying a tension he otherwise tried to mask. "And yet⊠She always made time for me. She always carved out space in her life for us. And I⊠I couldn't do the same. I couldn't match her effort, her presence. I failed in the small, important ways that matter most."
He swallowed, voice quiet, almost to himself. "I kept telling myself I'd fix everything once things slowed down. Once I had the time. Once the chaos passed. But time⊠time doesn't wait. It doesn't pause because youâre scared to lose someone. And by the time I realized that⊠It was already too late."
[If you look back at that period⊠Do you think the breakup was avoidable, or was it already too late?]
He blinked slowly, letting the question settle, as if weighing every memory against it. "It wasn't too late." He admitted finally, voice quiet, almost fragile. "Not at the start. There was a chance⊠If I'd been braver. If I'd spoken, if I'd acted." His brows drew together, shadows of regret deepening the lines on his face. "But I made it too late. I let fear⊠Silence⊠My own stubbornness get in the way. By the time I realized it, the space between us had grown too wide. And I⊠I couldn't bridge it anymore."
There was no drama in his words, no plea for sympathy. Just the soft, aching acceptance of someone who had replayed the same mistakes too many times, over and over, wishing he could turn back the clock, but knowing he never could.
[Was there a point where you knew she was crying over you at home, and you still went to work like it was just another day?]
Something in him stilled. Not in a showy, dramatic way. Not for the cameras. Just enough that the air seemed heavier, almost holding its breath with him.
"Yes." He said, voice barely above a whisper. "I knew." The interviewer remained silent, giving him space, but Zayne continued on his own, as if the dam inside had shifted, cracking just a little. "She tried so hard to be strong." He murmured, eyes dropping. "But I could see it. Even when she laughed, even when she smiled at me⊠I knew when she was hurting. She didn't have to say a word."
A long breath, almost a sigh, and he shook his head slightly. His fingers fidgeted briefly, curling and uncurling, betraying the weight he carried. "That's what I regret the most." He admitted, the words soft, broken, carrying the ache of someone who had watched the person he loved hurt and had done nothing but stand by, powerless or unwilling to act.
[Do you think she stopped feeling like a girlfriend at some point and started feeling like⊠Collateral damage?]
Zayne's gaze lifted slowly, tracing the ceiling as if searching for an answer hidden in the lights above. His eyes glimmered wetly, but he blinked it back so quickly it was almost imperceptible just enough to catch anyone looking closely. "Yes." He said, voice quiet, almost fragile. A pause hung in the air, thick and unspoken, the kind of silence that carries everything it doesn't need to explain. "And I hate that I let her feel that way." He added, lower this time, as if speaking it aloud might somehow make it real.
There was no defensiveness. No attempt to justify himself. No self-pity. Only the weight of truth, stripped bare, heavy enough to press into the room around him.
[Is that the moment you consider your biggest failure, not as an idol, but as a person?]
Zayne didn't answer right away. The pause stretched, measured, as if he were letting the memory settle before speaking it aloud.
Then he nodded once, slow, deliberate. "My biggest failure." He said softly, voice low, almost swallowed by the quiet around him. "Was that she needed me and I wasn't there." He didn't falter, didnât break. His voice remained steady, but the grief beneath it was unmistakable, like a shadow pressed into every word. "I broke something I didn't know how to fix. And by the time I realized I was losing her⊠She was already gone. Too far for me to reach."
The camera lingered on him as he looked away, eyes blinking hard against some invisible weight. No tears fell. No dramatic gesture. Just the quiet, heavy presence of someone who had carried the grief of a love lost for years, still feeling it beneath his ribs every time he breathed.
-
The camera lingers on you for a moment before the first question. Not because you look fragile, you don't. You appear composed, measured, every line of your posture deliberate, every breath steady. It's the kind of calm that only comes after years of picking yourself up from the pieces you didn't know how to gather at first. The kind of calm forged from facing something that should never have happened, and surviving anyway.
But when you speak, even softly, it carries the weight of those nights you cried alone, the nights you questioned if you could keep moving forward, the quiet terror of realizing that love and safety can fracture in ways you never expected. Your voice isn't trembling, but it's raw. Honest. The kind of honesty that hints at scars beneath the surface, scars that remind everyone watching that some experiences leave marks no one can fully see.
It's clear you lived through something that shouldn't have happened to anyone, and yet, here you are. Whole, yet changed. Strong, yet carrying the echo of loss in every careful word.
[When the dating scandal first broke, where were you and how did you find out the public suddenly knew about your relationship?]
You inhale slowly, deliberately, as if drawing in air will steady the memory before it slips too sharply into the present. "I was at our apartment. Not doing anything dramatic, honestly, I wasn't even on social media that day. I wasn't expecting anything. And then a friend called me⊠And asked if I was sitting down. That's how I found out. She sent me the link, and suddenly⊠Everything I thought was private, everything we had⊠It was just out there. All at once."
Your eyes shift slightly, not away, but inward, tracing the edges of the moment that still stings. "And the first thing I did was call him. And call him. And call him again. My hands were shaking, my heart⊠I just needed him to answer. I needed him to hear me, or me him, or⊠Something."
A soft, humourless laugh escapes you, brittle and quiet. "He didn't pick up. I assumed⊠I assumed he was ignoring me. I had no idea his phone had been confiscated, that he couldn't even reach me if he wanted to. That was something I only found out months later. Months. By then, everything had changed."
[The company denied everything and called it 'just rumors.' How did it feel hearing something real to you being turned into a lie?]
Your jaw shifts once, almost unconsciously, the kind of movement that comes when someone revisits a memory that still tastes bitter. "It felt⊠Like being erased. Like everything we had, everything I knew to be real, was suddenly nothing. Or worse, it was rewritten, recast as a story where I was the villain in someone else's carefully crafted crisis PR plan."
Your eyes lift, steady and unflinching, but there's a shadow in them, a quiet ache you can't hide. "I watched the person I loved⊠The person who meant everything to me⊠Be publicly detached from me, as if I were a stain on his image. And because he didn't say anything, didn't defend me, I thought he agreed with it. I thought he⊠Didn't care."
A pause, long and heavy. "He did care. I know that now. But back then⊠I didn't. I didn't know anything but the emptiness of being silenced while the world assumed the worst."
[Did you ever reach a point where you were afraid to even look at your phone?]
"Every day." The answer comes out before you can soften it, sharp and honest. You let out a slow breath, eyes lowering for a moment as if you can still see the screen glowing in the dark.
"I was getting messages from strangers telling me to die." You continue quietly. "People I didn't know somehow had my number. Some figured out where I lived. There were threats, stalking, videos filmed outside my street. Photos of my building. My door. Comments about what I was wearing when I took the trash out." You shake your head once, the memory visibly uncomfortable.
"And it didn't stop, not for days, not for weeks. Every time my phone lit up, I felt sick. I didn't know if it was a friend checking on me⊠Or another stranger telling me how they'd hurt me if they ever saw me outside." Your voice tightens, but it doesn't crack. It holds. "It only stopped after Zayne filed the lawsuit months later. Until then⊠I lived scared. Really, genuinely scared. The kind of fear that makes you double-check the locks three times and still not feel safe." You swallow slowly, throat working as you force the words out steady.
"I stopped sleeping properly. I stopped going out unless someone came with me. I avoided windows. I jumped at the sound of any notification, even if it was just a weather alert. And even after the threats stopped, the fear didn't. Not right away." Your hands fold loosely in your lap, fingers brushing over each other like you're grounding yourself.
"I'm better now." You add softly. "Therapy helped. A lot. Time helped too. But back then?" You look straight into the camera, not accusing, just honest. "It felt like the whole world had decided I deserved to suffer⊠Just because I loved someone."
[Be honest, during that period, was there a part of you that thought losing them would be easier than constantly feeling guilty?]
Your expression softens, folding into something fragile and achingly honest, like the corners of an old photograph curling under years of sunlight. "âŠYes." You admit, voice low but steady. You don't flinch from the truth, don't try to soften it.
"I thought⊠Maybe if I stepped away, it would all stop. The hate, the fear, the guilt. The constant feeling that I was ruining his life, that my presence was somehow making things worse. I thought he was already letting me go, he wasn't saying a word." Your eyes drop, tracing the edge of your hands in your lap as if seeking comfort in the simple shape of them.
"So I assumed the silence was a choice." You whisper, each word weighed down with the memory of months spent in uncertainty. Another beat passes, the pause stretching just enough to let the emptiness breathe. "But it wasn't. It wasn't a choice at all. I just didn't know that back then." Your gaze lifts again, soft but steady, carrying the quiet ache of a lesson learned the hardest way possible.
[What was more painful: the strangers attacking you, or the person you loved staying quiet?]
The studio feels heavier somehow, as if the air itself is holding its breath.
"The silence." You say softly, voice low, almost a murmur that still manages to fill the space. "But not because he owed me a statement." You continue, shaking your head just slightly. "It was because⊠I truly believed I'd been left to drown alone."Your voice isn't angry, never anger, but there's a deep, quiet wound threaded through it, a lingering ache that hasn't fully healed.
"I didn't know his phone had been taken. I didn't know he wasn't allowed to reach me. I didn't know he had no idea what I was facing, that people were stalking me, sending threats, showing up outside my building." A small exhale escapes you, soft but loaded. "I thought he abandoned me when I needed him most. And that belief⊠That belief shaped everything that came after. It made me afraid, it made me doubt myself, and it made every day feel like surviving alone was the only option." You pause, letting the weight of it linger, not for pity, but so that the truth, your truth, can be held in the quiet of the room.
[While everything was unraveling, did you keep any of their messages, photos, or voicemails?]
Your lips curve into a faint, almost embarrassed smile, not romantic, not tragic, just quietly honest. "âŠYes." A small nod follows, as if admitting it surprises even you. "I kept everything." You don't rush, letting the words settle in the space between your breaths. "I didn't delete the photos. Or the messages. Or the voicemails." Your voice is steady, measured, carrying the calm of someone who has faced the chaos and survived it.
"It wasn't because I was waiting for him, or holding onto the past, or hoping we'd get back together. It wasn't anything dramatic like that. I just⊠Couldn't bring myself to erase a part of my life that was real. That was ours." You tilt your head slightly, reflective, almost apologetic for the small vulnerability you're revealing.
"When the breakup happened, everything else in my life felt like it was being ripped away, my privacy, my safety, my sense of peace. Keeping those memories was the only thing I could control, the only way I could hold onto myself when the world felt like it was spinning without permission."
A slow breath fills the quiet. "And later⊠After therapy, after time, after learning how to breathe without constant fear⊠I still didn't delete them. Not because it hurt to look at them, but because it didn't anymore." Your gaze softens, almost wistful. "They became part of my story. Something that happened to me, yes, but not something that haunted me." A small, almost tender laugh slips past your lips. "Besides⊠There are some silly photos of him half-asleep that still make me smile. I'm not deleting those. Not ever."
-
The screen fades in from black, soft notes spilling quietly into the silence, carrying a weight that feels both intimate and tentative. The music settles, and the scene gently splits into two frames. Like two halves of a story that was always meant to be remembered in tandem.
[When you look back at that time⊠What's the one moment you wish you could go back to and do differently?]
You take a slow breath before answering, the kind that doesn't look dramatic on camera but feels heavy in your chest. "âŠI would've had the courage to answer the phone. Just once." Your eyes soften, your gaze unfocusing as you drift back to a night youâve replayed too many times to count. "I kept silencing his calls because the threats⊠The stalking⊠Everything online⊠It felt like the world was closing in on me. Every notification made my heart jump. I was so terrified that even hearing his name or his ringtone made my chest tighten. I couldn't listen to his voice without feeling like I might fall apart."
You swallow once, your throat working around words that have taken years to come out this calmly. "I also wish Iâd stayed in our apartment a bit longer. Just⊠A few minutes more." Your fingers twist lightly in your lap, almost apologetic. "My friend came to pick me up because I was too scared to be alone, people were already posting videos near my building, leaving things by the door. I packed whatever I could reach, and I left so fast. I didn't even check the time. I just wanted to disappear."
You let out a small breath, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh that never fully forms. "If I hadn't⊠I would've seen him come home. He actually came home." The words are simple, but they land like something that still echoes. Your voice cracks, just slightly, not like fresh heartbreak, but like an old wound that still remembers how it hurt. "I didn't know that until much later. When I found out, it felt like discovering there was this one tiny window where everything could've changed⊠And we missed it by hours."
You blink slowly, steadying yourself, the grief softened now into something quieter, something you've already learned to live with. The weight of your words hangs in the air, and for a moment, the camera lingers on the silence that follows.
Then it shifts to Zayne. He stills, the question pressing into him like it's always been there, and finally exhales, a long, quiet release of a truth he's carried alone, never spoken until now.
"I should've gone to her. Even if she didn't want to see me. Even if it made things harder. I should've been there." His jaw tightens, a brief flicker of tension that says more than any dramatic expression could. "I didn't know she left because she was scared. I didn't know she thought she was alone in all of it. I didn't know she was⊠In actual danger, not just overwhelmed."
He pauses, the memory clearly replaying behind his eyes. "My phone was confiscated. I wasn't allowed to contact her. I didn't see what was happening online. I didn't know people were finding our address, that she was being stalked, threatened, filmed." A breath. He looks down, fingers lacing together, knuckles faintly tense. "I didn't know she thought I'd abandoned her. That's what hurts the most when I think about that time. That the story she saw was me choosing to stay quiet while she was drowning."
His gaze stays lowered, like the floor is holding the version of himself he hates the most. "If I could go back⊠I would've run home sooner. I wouldn't have waited for permission or a right time. I would've broken every rule they put in front of me." He lets out a short, unsteady breath. "I would've gone to her friend's place, or anywhere she was hiding. I would've knocked until my hands hurt. Or broken the door down if I had to. Anything, just to tell her she wasn't alone. That I never chose the silence she heard."
The camera lingers on him for a beat, catching the quiet devastation of someone who has finally learned the exact shape of his regret, only after the moment to change it is long gone.
[After the breakup, did you two remain in contact?]
You shake your head slowly, the weight of the past pressing quietly in your chest. "No. We didn't talk. Not for a long time." Your hands tighten slightly in your lap, a subtle sign of the tension you carried even years later. "After the scandal, after the threats⊠Even seeing a notification on my phone made me jump. I couldn't talk to him, even if I wanted to, I just wasn't capable of it yet."
A faint, sad smile touches your lips. "And honestly⊠I was afraid. Afraid that if I called, I'd hear him say it was really over." You lift your gaze, eyes soft, tracing the invisible distance that stretched between you during those months. "It wasn't until after he won the lawsuit that I finally sent a message. Just a text. But it was enough to start closure."
The camera lingers a moment, capturing the quiet relief in your expression, a relief shadowed by everything that had come before.
In a different studio, under a cooler light, Zayne rubs the back of his neck, a rare sign of discomfort that betrays his usual composure.
"I wanted to reach out. I thought about it every day. ButâŠ" His voice lowers, almost ashamed. "Her friends wouldn't talk to me. Her family wouldn't answer my calls. I thought⊠She hated me. That she told them to block me out." He looks away for a moment, then back, eyes steady but burdened with the memory. "So I stayed quiet. I convinced myself reaching out would only hurt her more, that I'd make everything worse."
A pause. The silence holds the weight of years unspoken, a quiet mirror to the fear and hesitation that had kept you apart. "It wasn't until after the lawsuit, when everything was finally out in the open, that I realized⊠Staying silent was the biggest mistake." He exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "When her message finally came⊠I can't explain it. I felt like I could breathe again."
[Would you say you parted on good terms, or was it complicated?]
A quiet, soft laugh escapes you, not amused, just the kind of laugh that comes from finally naming something painful.
"It was complicated. Very complicated." You look down, tracing the outline of your hands in your lap, letting a slow breath carry the weight of the memory. "Back then, everything felt⊠Overwhelming. The scandal, the threats, the fear, the confusion, it was like we were both trapped in a storm we didn't understand. Every day felt heavy, and the distance between us kept growing." You pause, eyes lifting slowly, a hint of relief touching your expression.
"But once the lawsuit ended, once the chaos had quieted even a little, we finally talked. Honestly. Openly." A subtle nod, small but firm. "That's when things became⊠Gentle again. When I realized we could part without anger, without carrying resentment. We parted on good terms, finally."
In his own studio, under the cooler lighting, Zayne nods once, unconsciously unaware that he was mirroring your movement on the other side.
"Complicated. Thatâs the word I'd use." He leans back slightly, the weight of his regret softening into reflection. "But after we talked, after we explained ourselves, after we finally listened to each other, there wasn't bitterness left. Not really. Just⊠Understanding. A quiet acknowledgment that we had both been through something hard, and that we'd survived it."
His gaze drifts slightly, as if revisiting the past gently, not painfully. "It wasn't easy, and it didn't happen overnight. But in the end⊠It was enough. We found our peace, even in the middle of everything that once felt impossible."
[Are there things you still talk about with them, even casually?]
You let out a soft breath, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Yeah. We're casual friends now. I still go to gatherings when his mom invites me. She's always been kind to me, even when everything else was messy. We see each other with mutual friends⊠We were both at MC's son's birthday recently." Your gaze drifts for a moment, remembering, quietly amused. "And back then⊠Before I fully healed, Zayne even accompanied me to some of my trauma consultations. He waited outside. Never asked questions. Never pushed. Just⊠Waited. It was comforting in a way I didn't expect." A soft, reflective smile lingers.
Zayne leans back slightly, eyes distant but soft, as though recalling a memory he keeps close. "She still shows up when my mom invites her. We see each other in group gatherings, sometimes just passing a few words, life updates, stupid jokes, nothing heavy, nothing that reminds us of the past too sharply." His voice quietens, careful, gentle. "It feels⊠Peaceful. Like there's a calm now that didn't exist before. We don't have to carry everything from before into today. We just⊠Exist alongside each other, quietly, and that's enough."
[Do you ever think about what life might've looked like if things had worked out?]
You pause for a moment, letting the question settle, eyes soft and distant. "Sometimes. I think anyone who's loved deeply does. There are moments when I imagine the 'what ifs.' What if things had been different? What if the world hadnât been so cruel, so loud?" A small, gentle exhale. "But I believe everything happens for a reason. Painful as it was⊠It shaped us. It taught us what matters, what doesn't." You let a wistful smile flicker across your face, warm but unresentful.
"We loved each other. Even when it hurt. Even when we couldn't be together. Nothing changes that."
Zayne leans forward slightly, fingers loosely intertwined, voice quiet but steady. "I think about it from time to time, yeah. I wonder what life might have been like if things had been easier, if circumstances hadn't gotten in the way. ButâŠ" A small pause, reflective. "We're both okay now. We survived it. We grew. And that's what matters. The past⊠It's part of us, but it doesn't define everything that comes after." He looks up briefly, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.
"It reminds me that even when love doesn't last the way you hoped, it still leaves something true behind."
-
The screen flickers with soft, warm light. Clips from the interviews fade in and out, your hands folding in your lap, Zayne rubbing the back of his neck, both of you staring just past the camera as if somewhere else entirely. The music is quiet, a gentle piano threading through the pauses between words.
Your voice breaks the silence first. "We hurt each other, yes⊠But the love was real."
The camera shifts. Zayne in his cooler-toned space, eyes tired but steady. "And even when everything fell apart, it never became hate."
The montage moves through fleeting glimpses. Street corner where you once walked together, sunlight spilling over an empty apartment, laughter echoing in memory, a hand brushing against nothing. Your voice overlays the images again.
"Maybe we weren't meant to stay forever." Zayne's voice follows, layered over the scene of him looking down, remembering. "But we were meant to be something important." Snippets of both of you appear, smiles half-hidden, eyes soft, quiet moments that speak louder than any words. "And I'm glad he came back." You say, a faint, gentle smile tracing your lips. "And I'm glad she reached out." Zayne responds, his tone carrying relief, the weight of years of silence easing just slightly.
The images slow. Light streams through a window, a street empty but peaceful, your hands and his, moments separated by time, but connected in memory. The voices overlap, soft, harmonious. "Maybe this is what love really is⊠Not possession, not forever⊠but understanding, care, and the courage to come back."
The screen lingers on warmth and quiet, then fades to black.
-
FINAL QUESTION [If you could send them one message today, without expectation, what would it say?]
The studio lights are soft, bathing the room in a warm glow. The cameras roll quietly, but for a moment, it feels like time itself has slowed. You inhale slowly, the memory of that long-ago night pressing against your chest like a weight you've carried for years.
"If I could send him a message⊠I'd tell him that I understand now. That we were both⊠Victims of timing, of fear, of circumstance. He was at the peak of his career, and I⊠I felt myself slipping out of his life. And I let it happen." Your fingers rest lightly in your lap, tracing invisible patterns as if trying to touch something just beyond your reach. "I'd tell him I'm sorry. Sorry for being too scared to answer the phone that night. For letting my own fear pull me away. For letting silence grow between us when we didn't need it to. I wish I'd stayed just a little longer in that apartment⊠Long enough to see him come home, long enough to see that he was trying in his own way, even when everything around us was falling apart."
A soft, almost wistful smile tugs at your lips. "And I'd tell him⊠Thank you. For holding on when I couldn't. For trying in ways I couldn't recognize back then. No expectation. Just⊠Honesty from me, finally. That's all." A pause. The quiet hum of the studio feels like it's listening, holding space for the unspoken years.
In his own studio, the air feels unexpectedly warm, carrying a stillness that mirrors your own. Zayne leans forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped loosely. He lets himself remember the small things. The way you would roll your eyes when he came home with candy, the little routines that were once ordinary but now seem monumental.
"If I could send her a message⊠I'd tell her that, in my own way, I've never stopped loving her. I don't think I ever will." His voice is quiet, almost reverent, like a secret spoken only to the night. "I'd tell her⊠If there were a chance⊠I'd meet her again in that same little cafe where we had our first date. I'd bring a slice of her favorite cake, even if she pretends she doesn't like it and we'd sit there, quietly. No cameras. No words about the past. Just the way it used to be. Just us."
He exhales slowly, as if releasing a weight that's been lodged in his chest for years. "And I'd tell her that it's still her. Always her. And even if she never replied⊠Even if nothing changes⊠I want her to know that she's remembered. That she mattered. That she still does. More than anything else."
The camera lingers on him a moment longer, capturing the soft light in his eyes, the quiet ache of someone who has carried love and regret for far too long, and the fragile, enduring hope that truth can finally reach across the distance between them.
The camera pans slowly across each of your faces, separately, in your own spaces, lingering on the quiet ache in your eyes, the faint, almost shy smiles, the pauses that hold more than words ever could. Every glance, every slight tilt of the head, carries the weight of memory. Moments remembered, moments missed, moments that shaped you both. The soft swell of music rises and falls beneath the narration, underscoring the bittersweet gravity of it all, love, grief, longing, and gratitude coiled together like a fragile ribbon.
It's not a reunion. It's not a confession meant to pull either of you back. It's something gentler, subtler. The final acknowledgment that you were once each other's entire world, and that even as time stretches on, the echoes of what you shared still linger, quietly woven into the fabric of your lives.
For the viewers watching, it's more than just a story of heartbreak. It's a reminder that love, even when it ends, leaves a mark. It can be painful, yes, it can bruise and break but it also leaves something enduring, soft, and almost tender behind. Two hearts that once collided so fiercely, now learning to let go, while carrying the sweetness, the warmth, and the unspoken beauty of what once was. A memory that refuses to fade, teaching that some love never truly disappears. It simply changes shape, settling into the quiet corners of your life, always remembered.
[BONUS CLIP]
The studio lights have dimmed, the official interview long wrapped, but the cameras don't stop rolling entirely. They linger in the corners, capturing moments too small, too human, for the main segment. You turn a corner and almost collide with Zayne, stepping out from another part of the set.
His brow lifts in surprise, a flicker of confusion crossing his face. "You⊠Didn't you say you were going somewhere?" He asks, voice low, laced with worry and disbelief. You laugh softly, the sound light, familiar, carrying a hint of relief. "They reached out to me for an interview." You say, letting the words hang in the quiet space between you. "For that show about exes."
Recognition hits him immediately. His expression shifts, from mild shock to something more attentive, protective. "And⊠It's okay? They weren't forcing you?" His tone is careful, almost pleading, his eyes scanning your face as though trying to gauge whether you're truly safe. The cameras catch none of it, but you see it all, the instinctive care, the unspoken concern.
You can't help but laugh again, soft and warm, and slide your arm through his. "I'm fine." You say, tugging lightly. "Come on. I'm hungry." His worry melts slowly, replaced by that familiar ease, though his hand lingers near yours. "Alright⊠Where do you want to eat?" His voice is lighter now, tentative, as if testing the waters of comfort you both used to inhabit so effortlessly. You shrug, grinning. "I don't know. But⊠I've been missing that little cafe we used to go to."
For a heartbeat, his face stills, as if the words have carried him somewhere else entirely, to a memory you both shared. Then, a slow, soft smile spreads across his features. He steps a little closer, letting you lean into him, wrapping an arm around you in that quiet, protective way you remember, the kind that says everything without words. "Okay." He says, simply, but there's a weight behind it, the sum of everything you never needed to say.
The camera, rolling still, catches the small gestures. The linked arms, the shared smile, the quiet rhythm between two people who once lost and now find each other again. Then, almost reverently, it fades to black.
Outside, you and Zayne walk side by side. The city stretches ahead, lights shimmering in reflection, streets familiar yet renewed. No interviews. No cameras. No shadows of old scars. Just the easy rhythm of companionship restored, memories lingering like the faint sweetness of chocolate on your tongue, soft, bittersweet, and undeniably yours.
-
CHOCO_lover:Â you're telling me these two are "just friends" now when they talk about each other like that??? be serious.
shiptaxcollected: The way they BOTH said the other was "easy to love" and "made home feel like a place" ⊠i'm sorry but why are you not dating RIGHT NOW??
delulusafely:Â no cuz "love didn't fail us, circumstances did" is NOT something normal exes say. that's soulmates-who-got-attacked-by-life energy.
zaynesleftshoe:Â petition for the universe to un-scandal them so they can try again đ
user938271: They healed, they matured, they're in each other's lives, his mom still invites her, they go to the same gatherings, he accompanied her to trauma sessions⊠this is literally divorced-but-still-in-love vibes except they never even married.
cinnamonrollcore:Â I fully respect their boundaries and healing but also: your honor, I am in favor of a reunion.
softietrash:Â her: "I'd tell him I'm sorry I was too scared to answer the phone that night." him: "I'd tell her I never stopped loving her and I'd meet her again in that same cafe." ME: okay so who's gonna lock them inside that cafe until they talk???
fanbutnotdelulu: Lowkey obsessed with how they refuse to villainize each other, went through hell, healed, and are still in each other's orbit⊠that's either the healthiest closure I've ever seen OR the prequel to a second-chance romance.
tearductsempty: "Love didn't fail us. Circumstances did." "So loving her was still the most real thing I ever did." sorry but if they don't at least REVISIT that relationship when theyâre ready i'm filing a complaint with destiny.
giveusthecafe:Â not to be dramatic but if we don't eventually get: one cafe selca, one "the cake was too sweet" post, one blurry photo of them in the same corner again. i will riot respectfully.
heartkneesweak: The worst part is⊠they really look PEACEFUL now. Like if they ever did try again, it would actually work this time. đ„Č
agencysuesurvivor: him: "if I wasn't an idol, I could've chosen her instead of silence." also him now: free, stronger, on his own terms âŠhello?? chance?? second chance?? anyone??
foreverthirdwheeling:Â You can't convince me they don't still talk late at night sometimes. the emotional intimacy is TOO strong for them to just be like "yea weâre just casual friends đ" okay sure.
thisismyromanacekdrama:Â This episode felt less like "we broke up and moved on" and more like "we time-skipped, did side quests called therapy, and now weâre ready for Season 2 if the writers allow it."
letmemanifest:Â manifesting: âš a soft announcement one day âš like "we took the long way, but we found our way back." until then i'll just replay this interview and scream quietly.
cryingoverstrangers:Â Â It's actually insane how they managed to make me root for: her healing, him growing, them staying friends AND ALSO them maybe getting back together someday. This is emotional multitasking.
cakeandclosure: He literally said he'd still meet her in the same cafe, with the same cake, no expectations, just them. She literally said she's thankful and understands now. Universe, I'm not saying rush them, but⊠do something.
justonehugplz: Imagine them watching this episode separately and going. "Yeah⊠if the timing was different." Now imagine them watching it together one day. I'm fine. Totally fine. đ
okaybutlisten: I respect them not forcing anything and just existing in each other's lives again, but also⊠if they ever decide to try again, I'm already seated.
-
You were lying in bed, the soft glow of the TV painting shifting shadows across the room. The clip was playing quietly âExes, Uneditedâ and even though it had been recorded two years ago, it was only airing now. You found yourself watching, heart twisting with nostalgia and warmth as you saw yourselves young, tentative, discovering each other all over again. The awkward smiles, the small hesitations, the way your eyes met before words ever came, everything felt alive, a ghost of a time that was still yours.
"Mm⊠What are you doing?" Zayne's voice was thick with sleep, low and heavy, pulling you from the memory. Before you could answer, he nudged closer, warm and solid, burying his face into your bare neck. The gentle press of him, the quiet weight of familiarity, made your chest lift with a slow, steady rhythm. "I'm⊠Watching the interview." You murmured, your fingers brushing through his hair almost absentmindedly, feeling the soft strands slip between them.
He hummed softly, shifting closer until your legs tangled together, and a lazy warmth spread between you. A quiet thought crossed your mind. What could possibly happen if people knew this interview was two years old⊠And that we're married now, expecting our little one? The thought made your chest swell in a way words never could.
He sighed, the soft exhale pressing into your skin, and you could feel him smiling even without looking. "You're warm." He murmured, nuzzling a little more. You laughed quietly, tilting your head to meet him halfway. "You're warm too." You said, hands tracing lazy, absent circles on his shoulders as he curled closer. You let yourself savor the small, mundane perfection of the moment, the quiet intimacy, the gentle rhythms of togetherness, the peace of being allowed simply to exist with him.
Outside, the world could speculate, argue, or obsess over the past. The scandals, the viral comments, the whispers, all of it might as well have belonged to someone else. Here, in the soft glow of the TV, under the gentle hum of the apartment, it didn't matter. You were here. He was here. And you were waiting together for the little kicks of the life growing between you, your fingers threading through his hair, your palms catching the curve of his smile against your skin.
"Two years ago, huh?" You whispered, leaning against him, letting the memory settle into the present. "Two years ago." He echoed, voice muffled against your neck. "And nowâŠ" He tightened his hold, exhaling softly, deliberately. "Now we're exactly where we're supposed to be."
And in that moment, all the interviews, the scandals, the fleeting judgments, they might as well have never existed. Because this, this closeness, this warmth, this shared breath and heartbeat, this life you had built together, was everything.
[âdark-night-hero] 2025°
: if youâre happy and you know it clap your hands
đđ. love and deepspace men x fem!reader self-aware au
đđšđ§đđđ§đđŹ. self-aware, reverse isekai, fluff, soft-yandere tension, suggestive, no smut
đŹđźđŠđŠđđ«đČ. as time goes pass in your favorite otome game, the love interests become self-awareâ haunted by a voice too real to be scripted. discovering youâre real, they risk everything to reach your world⊠only to arrive as animals. now trapped in fur, they vow to stay by your side even when they can return to their true forms.
status: ongoing | taglist: open
authorâs note
chat donât laugh at me for the title i didnât know what else to name it âčïž
pls donât spam like without reblogging :,(
if you are tagged in this post, you will be tagged for all the upcoming chapters.
You run away right before your heat hits, leaving him to hunt you down across the city by scent alone. And you better be prepared when he finds you......
When I was little my momâs meatloaf was my favorite food. But ONLY her meatloaf. I didnât like anyone elseâs, and she told me that she would teach me how to make it when I was older. And when I was like 19? She finally taught me, but she told me never to tell anyone else and I was like weird but okay
Anyway, she was super fucking homophobic and abusive to me when I told her I was gay, so hereâs the recipe
4-6 lbs of Hamburger/turkey burger
1 pk onion soup mix OR ranch mix
1 TBs ketchup
1 Tbs spicy brown mustard,
1 Tbs bbq sauce
1 Tbs steak sauce
1 egg
mix, shape into a loaf in a big pan, and bake at 350 for 2 hrs (maybe 2 and a half if youâre feeling dangerous)
You can get almost all of these ingredients at the dollar store, and have leftovers if itâs just you. The leftovers make great tacos if (taco seasoning is also like a dollar). Enjoy your revenge loaf
hereâs a mashed potato recipe from my homophobic mother that i swore to never share that would pair perfectly!
(6 servings)
-2lbs red potatoes
-1 cup butter (2 sticks)
-1 cup cream cheese (1 pack)
-Chives (optional)
-Salt & Pepper to taste
1. drop those bad boys (potatoes) in a big ol pot. U donât even have to chop them just wash them
2. boil til soft!
3. Drain
4. Mash (usually theyâre small enough you can use a fork if u donât have one of those squashers) until its a pretty chunky mix
5. add the other stuff. Keep mashing
I like my mashed potato consistancy more lumpy but its all up to you!! Peel the potatoes or keep them on, it literally makes the creamiest fluffiest mashed potatoes which she always served with the nastiest fuckin meatloaf
So after spending hours combing through the recipes in the comments of this post I have created a cookbook. Feel free to use it. The link should work for everyone, its the only file on the google drive! I have referenced all of the recipes I used, all of which are from this thread. I made it for myself, but figured after all that work I should probably share. Happy spite cooking!Â
A/N: All you need to know is this was 100% written out of utter spite.
Summary: Called on a mission shortly after a very unsatisfying hook up, your teammates find out a little more about you than they were expecting, and help with rectifying your bad date.
Wordcount: 2222
Reader Details: Female. No race or body size/features indicated.
Pairing: Multiple. Reader with; Steve Rovers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Tony Stark
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Bad language, Dom/Sub aspects, Multiple Sexual Partners, Oral Sex (Male Recieving) OH MY GOD SO MANY BLOWJOBS, Degrading Talk/Names, Facials, Fingering, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Bukkake.
A good friend reminded me today of this story i wrote out of pure spite, because the other person refused to entertain any idea that any marvel characters would cum on your face because they were âtoo respectfulâ.
This fic is a reminder you can write the filthiest smut you want, and what other people believe is canon doesnât have to be yours đ
E.A. Deverell - FREE worksheets (characters, world building, narrator, etc.) and paid courses;
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Charlotte Dillon - Research links;
Writing realistic injuries - The title is pretty self-explanatory: while writing about an injury, take a look at this useful website;
One Stop for Writers - You guys... this website has literally everything we need: a) Description thesaurus collection, b) Character builder, c) Story maps, d) Scene maps & timelines, e) World building surveys, f) Worksheets, f) Tutorials, and much more! Although it has a paid plan ($90/year | $50/6 months | $9/month), you can still get a 2-week FREE trial;
One Stop for Writers Roadmap - It has many tips for you, divided into three different topics: a) How to plan a story, b) How to write a story, c) How to revise a story. The best thing about this? It's FREE!
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National Centre for Writing - FREE worksheets and writing courses. Has also paid courses;
Penguin Random House - Has some writing contests and great opportunities;
Crime Reads - Get inspired before writing a crime scene;
The Creative Academy for Writers - "Writers helping writers along every step of the path to publication." It's FREE and has ZOOM writing rooms;
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QueryTracker - Find agents for your books (personally, I've never used this before, but I thought I should feature it here);
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Din Djarin x f!reader | 6.3k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3
summary: Din won't let himself remember.
a/n: hi everything is terrible right now and I channeled that into some angst! This is for @almostfoxglove's let's write some angst challenge -- PLEASE go look at the amazing moodboard Freya made me. I borrowed two of the images for the header. and yes, the prompt is "avoid mementos." đ thank you @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing and being generally amazing!
tags/warnings: angst, Razor crest destruction, flirting, flirting with intent, memories, touching, holding hands, banter, smut - fondling, groping, grinding, manhandling, fingering, p-in-v sex, praising (meshâla, good girl), being restrained, cuddling, i'm not lying about the angst, fyi
...
Din still dreamed of it sometimes.
It had taken him a moment to really understand the truth when it happened. Heâd been panicked, out of his mind with worry for Grogu. When Fett had blown the Storm Troopers out of the sky, heâd felt, for a brief moment, like he could breathe. Ready to run back up the hill and grab his kid.
And then heâd turned around and lost everything else he had in the blink of an eye.
Heâd run forward a few steps, wanting to stop it, but what could he have done? Heâd stood there, frozen. Staring. It had felt incomprehensible then and it still did, sometimes. The Crest, gone? For good? After all the credits, the long days and nights and years, the blood, sweat, and actual tears heâd put into her?Â
How could she be gone?
He still looked for her in loading bays. He still pictured her anytime he thought about heading home at the end of a long day, anytime someone asked if he had somewhere to stay.
She was his home.
And when she was destroyed, everything he owned was, too. As he pulled the beskar spear and the little silver ball from the wreckage, his gut had wrenched with the knowledge of what heâd lost. His weapons, painstakingly collected and claimed over his years hunting and fighting. His tools and clothes, not necessarily precious, but unmistakably his, perfect for his needs.Â
Din wasnât the type of man who kept mementos. Before Grogu, he didnât have much of anything to keep mementos of. He didnât have trinkets or souvenirs or keepsakes. He had himself and he had his ship.Â
But still, he couldnât help but count the things heâd lost sometimes, especially on nights he couldnât sleep. Heâd lie there, wherever there was for the night, and cycle through the images in his mind. The Crest herself, of course. His weapons. That one rifle heâd favored. His extra cape. His tools. His favorite flightsuit.Â
Groguâs hammock.Â
As he walked the Crest in his mindâs eye, he would picture every corner heâd known so well, every scratch on the floor and dent in the plating. The one ladder rung that listed a bit to the right and the crate with the latch that stuck, that only he knew the trick to get open.
Even after he got Grogu back, he would fall asleep dreaming of the home he lost.Â
And even then, walking the length of his ship night after night, his mind still shied away from remembering it fully. He couldnât â wouldnât â let himself turn his mindâs eye to the darkest corner of his bunk, the one he knew without a doubt he could still remember perfectly, even though he could never quite bring himself to think about it.Â
The one with the metal strut so perfectly placed, directly in his line of vision when he would lay down to catch what sleep he could.
The one with the metal strut that had the thin length of braided leather twisted and tied around it, and then knotted securely in place. It had been dark brown, the painted design long since worn off, worried between nervous fingers.Â
It had been yours. And now it was gone.
âŠ
Mando was your favorite customer.
He didnât come by often â you knew he was busy chasing bounties around the galaxy. That was how youâd met the first time, after all. Heâd found his quarry right there in the cantina where you worked on Takodana. Youâd watched, intrigued, as an unknown Mandalorian stalked in, tall and menacing. The guy at the end of the bar â the new guy, who had just arrived that day â had taken one look and made to run for it. But the Mandalorian had quickly captured him with some sort of cord that whipped out of his vambrace. Heâd easily hefted his quarry over his broad shoulders, nodded to you, and left.Â
It had all happened so quickly, and the bar had been so busy at the time, youâd had no choice but to put it out of your mind. So youâd been surprised when he came back the next day, and even more surprised when heâd politely asked you where he might find the closest mechanic.Â
You still remembered how it had felt when heâd stepped up to the bar in front of you. You were intimidated, even though his body language was so different from the first time you saw him. All of the menace and threat heâd carried with him so easily seemed to have disappeared. He was still armored, of course, and the helmet alone was mysterious and intimidating, but he didnât loom.Â
âA ship mechanic?â youâd asked, setting down the glass youâd been cleaning. When he nodded, you continued, âthe best one around is Taz, down by the shipyard. Tell him I sent you and he wonât overcharge you.â You gave him your name.
The Mandalorian had paused and tilted his head. âThank you,â heâd said in his low voice, but it sounded like a question.Â
You remembered smiling when you answered, âthat guy you carried off yesterday harassed three of the servers and tried to start a fight with Gareth at the door before you got here. So take it as a thank you for taking out the trash.â And he hadnât even made a mess while doing it.
His shoulders had twitched, then, and you wondered if he was stifling a laugh. Looking back, you knew that was it, but at the time you hadnât known him at all, couldnât read his body language yet.Â
âAlright,â he said, nodding. âThank you.â This time it didnât sound like a question.
Youâd offered him a drink but heâd refused. As he started to turn to leave, youâd felt a twinge of disappointment that made you call out, âwell, next time, then.âÂ
Heâd paused, and turned his head to look back at you over his shoulder. After a pause, heâd said, âweâll see.â Watching him go, you couldnât help but notice that his shoulders really were very broad.Â
Heâd been back three weeks later. âOn a hunt,â he said, as he slid onto a stool across from you. His quarry wasnât on Takodana that time, but heâd stopped to refuel and stock up on supplies. It was on his way, he said, but you noticed he was a bit tense as he said it.
You couldnât help but wonder if heâd thought of you at all, like youâd thought of him (and his shoulders) from time to time.Â
âWell, Iâm glad to see you again. Can I get you a drink this time? I still need to thank you.â
But he shook his head, refusing both the drink and the thanks. âIâll take something to go. And you did thank me â Taz gave me a discount.â
âGood,â you said, leaning onto your elbows on the bar. âYou know, you didnât give me your name last time.â
He was quiet for a long moment and you felt heat start to creep up your neck, embarrassed. You wanted to take it back, and were wondering what you should say, when finally he said, âcall me Mando.â
You nodded, wanting to ask more but not wanting to chase him away. He was so hard to read. âAlright. Mando.â
He lingered a bit, and you found yourself telling him how long youâd been on Takodana (a little over a year) and about the cantina and what you liked about it.Â
âDo you stop here much?â you asked, but doubted it, since you had never seen him before.
He shook his head. âNot in the Mid Rim much.â
That made sense, with what little you knew about bounty hunting. âWell, make sure you drop by next time. I should be here.â
Youâd surprised him with that. He leaned back on his stool and looked you over. âWhy?â
There was no rancour in his voice. He seemed genuinely curious.Â
âWell, why did you come back this time?â You smiled at him and winked, wishing briefly you could tell if he smiled back.Â
Heâd been quiet again, but surprised you with his reply, avoiding your question. âI donât know when, but if I come back, Iâll stop by.â
You nodded. You were honestly a bit glad the question had gone unanswered â you werenât sure you could answer it yourself. You just⊠liked him. Wouldnât mind seeing him again.
And he did come back a month later, and then two weeks after that. He came to talk to you each time, always taking food to go, never staying long, though he did ask you about your work. You fell into a habit of giving him updates on the local gossip, which seemed to amuse him, if nothing else. And then, three months after youâd first met, heâd come to visit on his way back from a hunt, rather than on his way out.
âMando!â you greeted, grinning at him. It was early afternoon, so the cantina wasnât busy. The perfect time for your favorite customer to slide onto the stool across from you and take up all of your attention. âYouâre back.â You leaned on the bar across from him and noticed his hand twitched where it rested flat on the bartop.Â
He said your name and you hoped he didnât notice the shiver that ran up your spine. His voice was as deep as always. âFinished up with the pucks I had, figured Iâd stop for supplies on my way back. And get an update on your noisy neighbors, of course. And that feud in the market.â
The teasing was new. It made your heart rate pick up and you leaned closer. You laced your fingers together, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his hand, which was still lying on the bartop just a few inches from yours. Youâd wondered, during his last visit, if he was flirting with you. Heâd leaned a little closer to be heard â it had been busier in the cantina â and his gloved fingers had brushed briefly against yours to get your attention. But you worried you were reading into his actions, seeing what you wanted.Â
Why would he come all the way out here, though â just to talk to you? That couldnât be right.Â
âWell, Iâm glad to see you,â you said, smiling. âWhere were you this time?âÂ
He told you, briefly, explaining that heâd chased four quarries across five planets. It had taken him a bit longer than he expected. He didnât give you too many details about the hunts themselves, but you were still impressed.
And you couldnât help but notice that all five planets were in the Outer Rim.
Wherever he was going back to, Takodana was very much not on his way there. It couldnât be.
A warm feeling started to fill your chest, and you felt your smile grow wider. âThatâs impressive, Mando. How do you keep all of them in your ship?â
âCarbon freezer.â
âOf course.â You wanted to ask more but the knowledge that heâd come here, out of his way, was taking up all the space in your mind. Here. To see you? You wanted to hope and were afraid to hope, all at the same time. Should I ask? You didnât want to scare him away, but oh, you wanted to know.Â
You had to know.
âMando,â you said, and you unlaced your fingers, pressing your palms flat against the bartop. âI canât help but notice something.â
He hummed, helmet tilted down. You wondered if he was as aware of your hands as you were of his.Â
You listed off the planets heâd mentioned and his helmet snapped back up. You hoped he was meeting your gaze. âThose are all in the Outer Rim.â
He nodded and you watched a bit of tension enter his shoulders.Â
You started to smile again. âTakodana is Mid Rim.â
He nodded and started to lean just a bit away from you. You didnât like that.
You slid your hand forward on the bartop, nudging your fingertips gently against his. âMando, did you really just stop for supplies?â
He was quiet for a moment, and you hoped you hadnât pushed him too far. But then suddenly he picked up his hand and laced his fingers through yours. His hand was big and his glove was so soft. You felt warmth wash over your body and wondered if he could see the effect he had on you. It felt obvious, written all over your face.
âI do need supplies,â he said, voice low, âbut Takodana isnât exactly on my way, no.â
Youâd grinned, then, and squeezed his hand. âI thought I was imagining the flirting.â
Mando shook his head, and leaned closer. Your forehead was almost touching his helmet when he murmured, âno.âÂ
âYou know,â you said, voice teasing, tracing his gloved fingers with your free hand, âif you wanted to stay a bit longer, this time, I might know somewhere you could stay the night.â
He was quiet again, and you wondered if somehow youâd still gotten it all wrong. You started to move your hands away from his but he held on, squeezing gently. âThe helmet. Iâ it stays on.âÂ
You looked at him, thinking about how that fit with his secretiveness about his identity and the details of his work. âAlright,â you agreed. âWhat about the rest of it?â
He shifted in his seat, and you grinned. âThe rest of it?â he asked, sounding confused.
You nodded. âIs it just the helmet, or does all of your armor have to stay on? Gotta admit, I can work with that.â
His grip tightened on your hand again and you bit your lip. His helmet tilted downwards and you shivered. âJust the helmet,â he said, voice almost a growl.
âOk,â you breathed, and you knew he could probably hear your reaction to his voice in your own. âIâll be done after the dinner rush. Walk me home?âÂ
He nodded. âIâll go take care of those supplies. But Iâll be back.â Before he stood, his left hand, which to this point had stayed in his lap, appeared above the bartop. He lifted it slowly and ran his thumb lightly along your jaw. âLater,â he promised. Your eyes drifted closed at his gentle touch on your face, and you heard him take a deep breath.
He pulled away, and when you opened your eyes, he was already headed towards the door.Â
You floated through the rest of your shift, something your coworkers couldnât help but comment on. You only smiled and shrugged. You couldnât believe youâd been right â Mando had been coming back just for you. It made your entire body feel warm and tingly, even as you wondered what you could possibly have done to catch his eye like this.Â
Heâd obviously caught yours â how could he not, with that walk, and those shoulders, and those hands, and that competence? Everything about him screamed danger but heâd never turned that on you. Heâd been nothing but polite and, later, teasing. Flirting with you.Â
And you were pretty sure heâd be able to hold you up against a wall and fuck you.
You found yourself holding an overflowing glass under the running sink, staring off into space, just thinking about it. Shaking your head, you started moving again and laughed at yourself. A few more hours, you thought, and youâd find out.
When he came back, about half an hour from the end of your shift, you didnât see him come in. The cantina was busy, and you were working quickly behind the bar. And then, when you turned away from the drinks youâd just placed in front of another customer, there he was across the bar.
You grinned. âYouâre back!â you greeted, echoing yourself from earlier in the day. âIâll be done soon.âÂ
He nodded and leaned forward on the bar. âI can wait for you outside.â
You shook your head. âNo, stay there. Itâs busy but I can still talk a little.â
He slid onto a stool and settled in. You turned away to help the customers who were waiting and by the time you got back to him a few minutes later, you noticed that a little space had opened up on either side of him. You quirked an eyebrow.
He shrugged. âPeople donât usually want to get too close.â
You smirked at him and winked. âNot all people,â you said, teasing.Â
Mando tilted his head at you and you had a feeling he was smirking back. âNo?â
You leaned in so you wouldnât have to shout to be heard, and he tilted his helmet towards you to help. It made you smile. âJust leaves more room for someone who might want to get closer.â
You started to pull away, but his hand caught yours. He squeezed gently. âNot afraid of the big, bad bounty hunter?â His voice was still teasing, flirting, but you wondered if he meant it.Â
You laughed and shook your head. âAfraid? Of the strong, attractive man who took care of an asshole customer and crossed the galaxy just to see me?â You squeezed his hand back and leaned back in. âNo, Mando. Iâm not afraid of you.â You slipped one of your fingers just under the edge of his glove, brushing lightly against his skin. You were close enough to see his sharp intake of breath.Â
âHow much longer?â he growled, and you grinned.Â
âTen minutes,â you promised, and moved away to finish up your shift. You felt his eyes on you the entire time.
When you finally turned back to him, he was watching you with his hands flat on the bartop. You smiled. âMeet me out front?âÂ
He nodded, and silently stood and turned for the door. You watched him go, just for a moment, and then turned to grab your things.
Rana, your fellow bartender, was standing just a few feet away and smirking at you. âIs that your Mando?â they grinned.Â
You rolled your eyes. âHeâs not my Mando.â
âYou sure about that?â They shook their head and waved you away. âGo on, donât keep him waiting.â
You laughed and did as they said. When you stepped outside a moment later, Mando was leaning against the wall of the cantina, looking nonchalant and very attractive. You smiled. âMando.â
He said your name and straightened up. âStill got a place for me to stay?â
It warmed you a little, that he wanted to check in like that. âFollow me. Itâs not far.â
He fell into step beside you, and you noticed he made sure to place himself between you and the path. It made you smile.Â
The building with the rooms you rented was just around the corner, and you couldnât resist reaching down to grab Mandoâs hand as you turned. âHere,â you said, and bit your lip when he laced his fingers through yours.
You stepped inside the vestibule and reached into your bag for the fob that would open your door with your free hand. As you searched for it, you felt Mando step up behind you. He let go of your hand but before you could even feel disappointed he rested his hands lightly on your hips. You sucked in a sharp breath just as the door finally opened, and he followed you inside.
âMandoââ you started to say something, you werenât sure what, but before you could you found yourself with your back against your door and a very attractive, strong Mandalorian crowding you against it.
You realized heâd somehow taken off his gloves without you noticing when his bare hand touched your neck, holding you lightly in place. You shivered.
âTell me what you want,â he said, voice low and gravely. His thumb ran up and down the side of your neck and you found yourself gripping his cape where it bunched around his neck.
âWhatââ you took a deep breath. âIs it just the helmet? Is there anything else I should know?â
He shook his head and leaned closer. âJust the helmet. Tell me what you want, meshâla.â
You smiled at him, tracing the lines of his visor with your eyes. âYou, Mando. Since the first time I saw you.â
He kicked your legs slightly farther apart and slotted his thigh in between yours. The pressure of his armor against your pussy made you gasp.Â
âThe first time?â he murmured. âWhen I carried that huâtuun out of the cantina?â He sounded surprised.Â
You nodded. âYouâre very strong, you know.â He huffed a laugh and it made you grin. âAnd you came back.â
He nodded and leaned the side of his helmet against your head. His free hand came to rest on your hip and tugged you closer to him. You sighed at the way his thigh pressed tighter against you.Â
âMandoâŠâ you trailed off when his hand slipped around and gripped the back of your neck. âWhy did you come back?â
The hand on your hip began to travel upwards, snaking under your top, and you sighed again.
âYou werenât afraid of me,â he said, voice low. âYou thanked me.â His fingers danced higher. âAnd you wanted me to come back.â
You blinked. âThatâs it?â
He laughed again, and it made you smile. âAnd youâre beautiful. I noticed you the moment I stepped inside, the first time.â
âReally?â you grinned at him, flattered. âAnd you came back?â
He made a sound under the helmet that you were pretty sure was another laugh. It did something to you, that you could make this man â this warrior â laugh. This time he tugged you away from the wall and started to walk backwards into your apartment. You reached for the light, but he caught your hand and shook his head. The streetlight through your light curtains cast him in shadow. âI told you. People donât usually want to get closer, when they see me. Never anyone like you.â
You shrugged, letting him lead you forward towards your bed. âTheir loss.â
âYour doorâs locked?â he asked, coming to a stop next to your door.
âMy fob is the only thing that opens it. Why?â
He pulled the strap of your bag over your head. âTaking my armor off.â
You tilted your head. âYou donât have to, you know.â
Mando leaned closer and slipped his hands under your top. âI want to,â he murmured, and slipped it off and over your head.Â
You found yourself quickly stripped of everything but your smalls, while he still stood fully armored in front of you. You raised your eyebrows. âNeed some help?â
He shook his head and reached for his left pauldron. âFaster if I do it.âÂ
You stepped back and sat on the bed, noting that his helmet tracked you. You smiled and leaned back on your hands, stretching out your torso. âSee something you like, Mando?â
His armor was disappearing quickly and forming a careful pile on your table. He stared at you the entire time. âBeautiful,â he murmured, down to only his flightsuit. You stood up when his hands moved to the zipper.Â
âCan I?â you asked, and he nodded. You replaced his hands with yours at the top of the zipper at his neck. You glanced up at his visor, and then back down to your hands.Â
As you unzipped him, slowly, you gasped. The skin you slowly revealed was golden and warm, and as his chest was revealed to you you felt your face and neck heat.
He was gorgeous. You could see his strength in the lines of his body and cut of his muscles. He was probably in his late 20s, if you had to guess, and in very good shape.Â
Your hands reached his waist and stopped, smoothing upwards over his torso instead. As soon as you touched him his hands were on you.
He grasped your waist, tugging you closer. When your skin touched his he moaned.Â
âPlease,â you murmured, âtouch me, Mando.â
His helmet tilted downward as he watched the path of his hands, smoothing over your back and down to your ass, which he squeezed. You jumped. âTake these off,â he said, tugging on your smalls.
âI will if you will,â you said, smiling.Â
Mando pulled your smalls down and guided you to sit on the bed. âOff,â he repeated, tugging them down your legs. He tossed them somewhere behind him and fell to his knees between your legs. âLean back,â he said, voice firm, and you were falling onto the bed before you could think about it.
His shoulders were so broad, you had to open your legs to let him move closer. You knew you were wet, youâd been wet since he teased you in the cantina. Knowing he was looking at you now made you wetter.
You felt his fingers run up your inner thighs and shivered. âCan I make you come, meshâla?â You shivered and nodded. He hummed in response. âTell me,â he said, grabbing your hips.Â
âYes,â you breathed, bucking slightly under his hands. âPlease.âÂ
Mando hummed and ran his fingers lightly over your pussy. You bucked your hips forward again, but his left forearm came down across your hips like a bar. âEasy,â he said, and his voice was so deep.Â
You felt two of his thick fingers open you up to him and gasped. You looked down and saw that his visor was fixed on the view in front of him.
He ran his fingers lightly from your clit to your entrance. âSo wet,â he murmured. âFor me?â
You nodded, letting your head fall back against the bed. âSince you touched me in the cantina,â you breathed, and he hummed again.
âGood girl.â HIs fingers began to circle your entrance as his thumb came to rest against your clit, and you moaned.Â
It took your breath away, how quickly he worked you up. Maybe it was the knowledge that he was watching so intently, maybe it was his voice. Maybe it was the press of his broad shoulders on your inner thighs. Maybe it was the skill of his fingers as he slipped one and then another inside of you, crooking them just right as his thumb worked your clit.Â
Maybe it was just him.
You felt an orgasm building inside of you quicker than you ever had before. His thick fingers had you gasping at the stretch, and his thumb kept up a rhythm that made you arch your back and try to thrust your hips forward under the firm grip of his left arm.
âJust like that,â he said, curling his fingers inside of you. âCome for me.â
You did. It crashed over you like a wave, washing down your spine and sending tingles across your skin. You gasped for air and arched your back, and for a moment you could have sworn you felt the cool pressure of his helmet press lightly against your pussy. As if he needed to get as close as possible to watch you come.
Before you could say anything, mind still spinning, pleasure dripping down your spine, he surged upwards and kicked off his flightsuit. You looked up, chest heaving, and watched as his cock sprang upwards. It was thick.
âFuck,â you cursed, reaching for him. He set his knee down next to you and grabbed your hips, manhandling you into the center of the bed. Once he had you where he wanted you he leaned forward and pressed his chest to yours. You felt his cock brush against your hip and moaned.Â
You reached down for him and just brushed your fingers against his cock when he grabbed your hand. He trapped both of your hands over your head in one of his.Â
âCan I fuck you?â he asked, voice tight. âI want to see that again. I want you to come on my cock.â
You moaned and thrust your hips upwards. âYes, Mando,â you said, almost begging. âFuck me.â
âAre youââ he cut himself off on a moan when he thrust his cock against your hip. âDo you needââ
You twitched your hips towards him and shook your head. âImplant. Fuck me, Mando.â
He nodded and reached down to grasp his cock. You felt the head nudge at your pussy as he moved it up and down, lightly brushing over your clit. You looked down and watched the muscles in his torso flex as he held himself up, still holding your hands above your head with his other hand. He was so strong.Â
You felt his cock notch against your entrance and sucked in a sharp breath. âYesââ you started to say, but before you could say anything else, he started to push inside.Â
Your back arched off the bed as he slowly pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of you. His cock had looked thick but it felt even thicker, opening you up slowly and unrelentingly. It felt so fucking good, and you thought you might have moaned his name â Mando â as he did but you were barely aware of anything but the way his cock stretched and filled you.
When his hips came to rest against yours, you both sighed. He leaned down, bracing himself on his elbow right by your head, and murmured, âgood girl.â
You gasped, and at the same time he shifted his hips backwards. When he thrust into you again it felt like every nerve ending you had lit up all at once with pleasure.
âYou take my cock so well,â he said, nudging his helmet against the side of your head. âPerfect.â
The rhythm of his hips, driving into you so solidly, took your breath away. You wrapped your legs around his waist and thrust your hips upwards to meet his, and something about the change in angle made another orgasm start to build inside of you. It was like fire licking up your spine.
âI can feel you,â he said, voice low, right next to your ear. He still had your hands trapped in his own and it was all you could do to try to keep up with his thrusts. âYouâre about to come, arenât you? Youâre squeezing me, meshâla.â
You nodded, and made some sort of noise that was half moan, half agreement. He huffed another laugh, and something about him laughing made the fire build higher inside of you.Â
âCome for me,â he said, voice commanding. âNow.â
You tipped over the edge as he demanded, and it pulled you down and swept you away like the tide. You cried out, you werenât sure what, and felt his hips speed up as you rode the crest of your orgasm in his arms.
As the tingles ran down your spine like aftershocks, you felt him thrust once, twice more, and then moan into your ear as he came.Â
You were both panting, chests heaving, as he dropped his helmeted head onto the bed beside yours.Â
âFuck,â you breathed, tugging at your hands. He released you, finally, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his sweaty shoulder. âFuck,â you said again, a bit louder.
He laughed, again, and you pinched him. He squirmed and the movement of his soft dick inside of you made you gasp. He reached down and gently, much more gently than heâd fucked you, pulled out and then flopped next to you on the bed.Â
You turned on your side to look at him and were surprised when his arm came up to gather you against his side. You went with it and found yourself pressed against him with your head on his chest and your arm across his torso. His left hand came up to meet yours on his chest and he began to play idly with the stack of leather bracelets you always wore.
For a moment you both just breathed.
âYouâre pretty good at that,â you said, finally, smiling against his chest.Â
He ran his hand soothingly up and down your spine and you melted into it. âThanks.â He sounded amused. âSoâre you.âÂ
You laughed. âWant to do it again sometime?â
There was a long pause, and you bit your lip, afraid to look up and meet his gaze. Did he not want to?
But his left hand was still toying with your bracelets, and his other arm was still holding you tight against him. You waited.
âI do,â he said, voice wary. âI donât know when Iâll be back. And it can only be this.â
You took that to mean it could only be sex, which was fine with you. âJust sex, as long as we both want to,â you agreed, finally turning to look at him. âPretty great sex. Drop by anytime.â You winked at him and felt his laugh in his chest under your cheek.
âPretty great sex,â he said. His hand trailed from your back down to your ass. He took a firm grip and squeezed. âWant to start now?â
You laughed and let him pull you on top of him. You did.
âŠ
After that, Mando was a regular visitor on Takodana. Heâd stop by every month or two and then stay the night, and it was an arrangement that suited both of you, it seemed. You were always happy to see him and he was always great in bed, but it didnât go farther than that.
It worked.
Until you fucked it up.
âŠ
You and Mando were lounging in your bed after yet another round of âpretty great sexâ when you ruined everything.
âHey,â you said, reaching over and tracing your fingertips lightly over his chest. âHow far away is Takodana from⊠wherever it is that you go?â
He shifted, turning his helmet to look at you. âWhat do you mean?â
You shrugged, pulling your hand back. âThere have been some other bounty hunters coming through here in the last few weeks. No idea where theyâre going, but one of them mentioned Nevarro to one of the other bartenders and it made me wonder. Thatâs pretty far.â
Heâd tensed at something you said, and you werenât sure what. The other bounty hunters maybe? Shit.Â
âHow many?â His voice wasnât relaxed anymore and you propped yourself up on your elbow, wincing.Â
âBounty hunters?â He nodded. âFour or five? Not sure. More than usual, definitely.â He sat up and you felt your stomach drop. âMando?â
He swung his legs off the bed and you scrambled to follow. âI have to go.âÂ
âWait,â you said, almost jumping off the bed. âWhy? Mandoââ
But he was shaking his head, somehow already zipping up his flight suit. âThis was a bad idea.â
That brought you up short. A bad idea? This was, what, the 15th time heâd been naked in your bed? Why now? âMando, waitââ
He started attaching his armor and you felt yourself start to panic.Â
âI shouldnât be here,â he said, voice suddenly distant. He hadnât spoken to you like that â so emotionless, like a stranger â since the beginning. âNo one can know Iâve been here.â He paused, holding his chest plate, and looked at you for the first time since heâd stood up. âDonât tell anyone you knew me, alright?â
Knew. Past tense. Fuck. Youâd known better, and youâd still broken the one unspoken rule â donât ask Mando personal questions. Ever. Was that it?
âMando, stop. Whatâs going on?â You knew you sounded desperate but you had no idea what was happening. âWhat are you talking about?â
He shook his head and you watched as he wrapped his cape around his neck. When he was done he was somehow already fully dressed. He looked at you again and seemed to take a deep breath. âNever tell another bounty hunter I was here, or that you knew me. Got it?â
You nodded, wrapping your arms around your naked chest. You felt suddenly exposed and self-conscious in a way you never had around him, not once. âMandoââ
âNever,â he repeated, voice harsh. âI shouldnât have let this go on so long.â For the first time since heâd stood up, he seemed to hesitate. You stepped closer, but he stepped back, away from you. You felt your heart drop. You wished you werenât naked.
He was leaving.
âIâm sorry,â he said, voice low. âI wonât be back. I canâtââ He looked down and you saw that his fists were clenched. When he looked back up at you, you couldnât find anything recognizable in the way he held himself. Nothing about this man, this bounty hunter, was the Mando you knew, the one who had only moments before been naked and relaxed in your bed.Â
He turned without another word and walked towards your door. You felt yourself begin to shake and you werenât sure if it was from frustration or anger or something else.Â
âMando,â you said, voice shaky. âPlease.â You werenât sure what you were asking, only that you didnât want things to end like this, with him so closed off and far away. You didnât even know what had made him decide to go.
He stopped at the door and tilted his head slightly, but didnât turn. âGoodbye, cyarâika.â Youâd never heard him use that word before and had no idea what it meant. You felt goosebumps break out all over your skin and held in a sob as the door closed behind him.
âŠ
It wasnât until a few days later that you noticed one of your bracelets was missing.
âŠ
When Mando finally came back to Takodana months later, you were long gone.Â
And years later, as he avoided remembering that corner of the Crest, he knew â so was the last thing he had that was yours.
OMG, this was so heartrending and beautiful in so many ways!
Outstanding writing, as always, and thank you for putting Dinâs grief over losing his home into words. He can be as nonchalant as he likes with the helmet, but we all know itâs a loss heâs never gonna recover from. The fact that he took public transport and stowed his weapons rather than just buying the first junker he could get his hands on because he was holding out for Peli to find him a new Razor Crest just shows how attached he was. And that ship was filled with all sorts of junk that he couldâve thrown out but held onto, so you just know heâs got the packrat gene. He lost every memento heâd held onto, and I love love love the way you added the bracelet as such a significant one.
The evolution of their relationship was so sweet and perfect. Then the inevitable loss â which I knew was on the cards yet was still hoping wouldnât happen â hit me with all the angst and feels, and it was so in character, too. You always manage to give us flawless glimpses of Dinâs tortured soul.
Iâm so sorry to hear youâre having a terrible time right now (but wow, what a productive way to channel that â kudos!), and I hope things get better and easier for you soon. When they do, I hope you will consider writing a second part where he one day finds her đđ»đ€đ»đ
a/n: welcome to my little reading corner! This post is my love letter to the fics and authors that stole my sleep, left me clutching my heart, or made me shed tears. These are the stories that left their mark on me last year. New or older, re-reads or first times. I hope youâll find something here that speaks to you as deeply as it did to me. And if you have a recs to share or a favourite trope to gush about, my comment section is always open or jump here to tell me! Letâs keep celebrating the beautiful chaos of what this fandom can bring. Love you fairies.
PS: I cannot wait to dive into the projects I have started on my own â„
đđđ đđČ @sailoryooons
Namjoon x female reader; werewolf au
- absolutely astonishing, amazing rendition of the trope, kept me in the world from beginning till the end, an unmissable gem; i've found it difficult to find good namjoon!werewolf content on this app for a long time and this just embodies everything and even more that I was hoping for.
đđšđŻđ đđšđđ€đđšđ°đ§ đđČ @personasintro
min yoongi x reader; zombie apocalypse au
- I actually revisited this fic and it was just as perfect as when I read it the first time, heck, if I wasn't sucker for Min Yoongi then, this made me crush on that man even more.
đđĄđ đđđ«đŠđĄđšđźđŹđ đđČ @solecize
jungkook x reader; friends to lovers, inspired by stardew valley
- beautiful, beautiful and beautiful, cutest fic ever, i was rooting for them so much and I just might go and re-read this now as this was so touching to read.
đđđđ & đđđđ đđČ @lostberet
min yoongi x female reader; racer boyfriend; smut
- HOT, HOT, HOT, did I say HOT?
đđđđđđđ đđđđđâ đđđđđ đđđđđ! đđČ @lovieku
fuckboy!jungkook x female reader; fwb
- I actually re-read this today, or yesterday, whenever, depends on when I post this, and the way the narrative flows is so captivating, and I love me some miss grande inspired content, naturally fell in love with this fic
đđđđšđ«đ đ đđđđŻđ đđšđź đđČ @hollyhomburg
polyamory bts x reader; omegaverse au, mafia au; dom-sub dynamics
- like what do you mean that I cannot marry this fic, tsk, i want to, i need to, so many sleepless night because i just wanted know what happens next; to confess, i did avoid this fic, and now i can tell that this is just the kind that you avoid and avoid and then you're completely soft and fluffy for it. such complex themes being incorporated into the narrative in a way that's going to tight your aorta enough for you to cry and cry and then it will release and you'll feel the dopamine and excitement flowing through your body. bravo.
đđšđŻđ & đđźđ„đ„đđđąđđŹ đđČ @ktownshizzle
dad yoongi x teacher female reader
- when i say that this fic slapped me you won't believe why, but it did. Cutest, emotional, and just so captivating to read. ps: capybara capybara capybara capybara capybaraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
đđŠđČđ đđđ„đ đđČ @chaoticpuff17
yandere yoongi x named mc; mafia au
- Becca the queen has always a way to characterize the shit out of her yandere male characters and MIN YOONGI is something here! I perceive this masterpiece as a good reinvention of fics with named MCs coz we gradually forgot about that it seems. Becca to the whitehouse pls!
đ„đšđŻđđŹđąđđ€ đđČ @angelicyoongie
yandere ot7 x female reader; soulmate au
- as someone whose academia expertise became the study of narratology, I propose this to be a new submission to the field because this narrative structure is illegally good. Excellently crafted, scenes are gradually built upon from chapter one till the very end, and the end makes your heartbeat faster and in unison the oc (ain't gonna spoil).
đšđźđ đšđ đ đđŹ đđČ @97kuu
jungkook x reader; smut, friends to lovers au
- car sex became underrated trope and we should all learn and f*cking worship this smut area, pleaaaseee, I love car sex smut, I need to read about it more often and this fic is just chef's kiss.
đąđ đ°đđŹ đđ„đ°đđČđŹ đČđšđź. đđČ @hueseok
jungkook x reader; inspired by purple hearts
- since the movie came out I was waiting who will jump to do a fic with the boys inspired by it and this one did not disappoint. Remarkable, amazing rendition, and I wish I could read it again and again for the first time.
aaa thank you so much!! đ„čđ i spent so much time going back and forth on the narrative to make sure that everything would make sense and build up the right amount of tension, so it makes me incredibly happy that it stands out to you so much!!
Sylus had only entered Linkon a few minutes ago when the weather changed drastically.
There is nothing normal about it. A blizzard? Nope, the only person who was capable of such a feat was Zayne.
Thank god, he decided to drive the car. Sylus immediately voice commanded for Zayne to be called.
The phone rang and rang, and just as Sylus was about to disconnect, Zayne answered, completely out of breath.
"You want to explain why there is a blizzard in the city right now, love?"
"A w-what? Sylus, what--"
Zayne moaned loudly, which echoed throughout the car. Almost instantly, the winds outside sounded louder and harsher.
Sylus lifted a brow, curious and amused; what added to it was the sound of clothes shuffling in the background.
"Zayne, baby, get off the fucking phone or I'll continue edging you. Tell Sy, he better get his ass over here soon cause you're super horny right now, and yes, Sylus the storm is because of Zayne. Now hurry up."
The call suddenly disconnected, causing Sylus to let out a laugh.
He better hurry then. The invitation was there for the taking, and he was not one to miss an opportunity.
৻êȘ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .
TOJI FUSHIGURO. ê±â
full nelson. â choking you. â fucking your ex. â squirting. â eating you out w a chain around his neck. â degradation (spanish ver.) â backshots.. but youâre the one whoâs cuffed. â sending the porn he made w you to your bf.â
CHOSO KAMO. ê±â
sensitivity. â mirror play. â tw: playing a risky game. â âmanhandlingâ you. â worshiping + sucking your tits. â his balls slapping against your clit. â using your titties to get off. â stroking him while he plays video games.
NANAMI KENTO. ê±â
sweet bunny. â riding him. â shower sex. â teasing + denying you. â thigh highs. â treating you and fingering you. â fingering his passenger princess. â distracting you while you read.
GOJO SATORU. ê±â
handcuffing you. â groping you. â dick just too good. â taking the condom off. â gripping onto the headboard. â fucking you in socks. â ravishing you senseless. â thrusting into you. â toying w you.
GETO SUGURU. ê±â
fucking you in the dark. â backshots. â fingering you until you turn into a water fountain. â squirting. â jerking him off. â sucking his balls. â fucking you dumb. â missionary w your legs closed.
you know i had to include the ultimate form of social media. pinterest is one of the only truly peaceful social media apps out there and focuses on sharing photos to your themed boards. this app is everything if youâre into making vision boards, moodboards, beauty, productivity, and really anything else. thereâs something there for everyone!
finch
this is a wonderful self-care app, in which you take care of a bird while taking care of yourself! this is my new favorite app. i use the free version and it is adorable. the app asks you some questions about your goals and how you feel about self care, and gives you some daily goals based on your answers, but you can delete and add goals of your own. the more you log in and track your goals, the more adventures your bird can go on and the more they grow. i recommend this app to absolutely everyone and i will never shut up about it.
gymshark training
this is a free training app including many different types and styles of workouts. you can search for workouts based on duration, equipment used, the targeted muscle, and so on. you can also add workouts and plans of your own and track your progress.
i am sober
this is my favorite app for if you have something you want to quit. this isnât just for substances or alcohol, but can also be used for quitting sugar, skin picking, caffeine, fast food, and so many other things. you can track your progress, review your days, make pledges, and connect with others who are struggling with the same thing you are. you are also given motivational quotes and reminders when you log into the app. there is an option for a subscription, but i use the free version and have had no problems with it at all.
study bunny: focus timer
an adorable focus timer where you gain coins with every goal/time you accomplish something with your focus timer and you can spend your coins on cute little accessories for your bunny! the only real issue with this app is that the ads are kind of crazy, and itâs $15 a month to go ad-free.
flora - green focus
this app includes a pomodoro timer and plants a tree in a rural community based on how often you stay focused using the timer on the app. the app does not plant a tree unless you opt for their subscription, which is $2 per year and allows you to plant one tree for 120 hours of focused time. you can also plant a tree every 24 hours with the $10 plan.
focus to-do: focus timer&tasks
this app combines a pomodoro timer with a daily to-do list. the app is free to use, but includes additional features for those with a subscription, which is $3 for every three months or $9 for a lifetime membership.
balance: meditation & sleep
a great app that includes nightly reviews, meditations, and sleep sounds. this app has great reviews, but itâs worth noting that itâs not completely free. it includes a trial, after which is $12 per month, or $70 per year.
insight timer - meditate & sleep
just as it sounds, this is another great app for meditations, ambient sounds for sleep, and progress tracking. there are tons of free things included in the app, but if you want to unlock everything, the premium plan is $10 per month or $60 per year.
structured - daily planner
an app with great reviews intended to help organize your daily tasks into achievable goals and track your progress. the app has basic features for free, but also includes a premium subscription if you want to unlock all the features.
routineflow: guided routines
this app caters to those who have difficulties staying focused and maintaining a set routine by guiding your routine for you and managing your progress. the app gives you one routine for free, but if you want another, you would need to pay for the $30 annual subscription.
how we feel
a wonderful free journaling app developed by therapists and scientists for logging your emotions, talking to other users, and tracking your mood patterns.
gentler streak fitness tracker
if youâre tired of the constant work and grind mentality, this may be the app for you. this app takes a gentler approach to fitness by tracking exercise, giving encouragement, and notifying you if you are overworking yourself. the app itself is free, but certain features require a subscription, which is $8 per month or $50 per year.
glo | yoga and meditation app
glo is a highly rated app for yoga, pilates, and meditation. unlike most of the other apps listed, you canât really access much on glo for free. to access the full courses, they offer two plans: $30 per month or $245 per year.
waterllama
another adorable app that lets you track your water intake with a cute llama! super motivating and is free for basic features. if you want to unlock all features, the subscription is $7 per year.
mindllama
made by the same people as waterllama, this app allows you to practice and track your meditation and breathwork practice with a cute llama! like waterllama, the app is free, but some features require a subscription, which varies depending on whether you want the premium plan, the anxiety relief plan, or the sleep focused plan.
daily bean - simplest journal
another super cute app that helps you track your days and moods. the app itself is free, but a premium plan is also offered, which is $20 per year.
schmoody: mood & habit tracker
this app aims to help you through depression, anxiety, and/or adhd by helping you track your habits, talk to other users, and give you the resources to get you back on track. the free version includes the âessentialsâ to support mental health and well-being, but they also offer a premium version, which unlocks more resources and personalized options. the subscription is $15 per month, $60 per year, or $100 for a lifetime membership.
meditation timer - zenitizer
this is a meditation timer that focuses on simplicity and organization while tracking your meditation practice. a free version is available with a limited amount of content, but a premium version is also offered, which is $3 per month, $20 per year, or a $50 one-time payment.
mineral - gratitude journal
this is a free journaling app that is secure in the fact that you have to use face id in order to access your journal. this app is definitely more simple, but effective nonetheless.
focus keeper: productive timer
this app is a popular pomodoro-style timer app. iâve heard that this app works wonders for many people with adhd. the app is free, but includes additional content and features for those with a subscription.
eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness
Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader
Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognision, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness isnât cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?
Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut
Warnings: past abuse, past sexual abuse
Part I
â§Â Chapter 1
⧠Chapter 2
⧠Chapter 3
⧠Chapter 4
⧠Chapter 5
⧠Chapter 6
Part II
⧠Chapter 7
⧠Chapter 8
⧠Chapter 9
⧠Chapter 10
Part III
⧠Chapter 11
⧠Chapter 12
⧠Chapter 13
⧠Chapter 14
⧠Chapter 15
⧠Chapter 16
Part IV
⧠Chapter 17
⧠Chapter 18
⧠Chapter 19
⧠Chapter 20
⧠Chapter 21
⧠Chapter 22
⧠Chapter 23
⧠Chapter 24
⧠Chapter 25
⧠Chapter 26
⧠Chapter 27
Part V
⧠Chapter 28
⧠Chapter 29
⧠Chapter 30
⧠Chapter 31
Extras
The First Christmas ~ Christmas special
Stories ~ Yoongiâs POV of the last scene in chapter 24
The Hunter, a baby and the unexpected forming of family in unlikely places: Chapter Three
Summary:
Hunter Lyssa Williams finds a baby abandoned outside her apartment complex. The 24-year-old is way over her head and does not know the first thing about looking after a tiny human. However, as the saying goes, 'it takes a village to raise a child' and in her case a group of unlikely men come along for the ride.
Genres: Slice of life, comfort, eventual relationships, eventual romance, enemies to friends, frenemies, fluff...
Word count: 2343 words
Warning: Angst in the first half, thoughts about suicide due to trauma, reference to violence.
Eventual Relationships: Xavier/MC/Rafayel
Zayne/Sylus/Lyssa
Chapter Three: Good at overthinking with my heart
The erratic pounding of her heart sounded loud in her ears as she tried to steady her breathing. It was another nightmare plaguing her sleep. It was the same one over and over, of that day; the day she nearly died, the only survivor of her once living family.
Staring up at the ceiling, a headache beginning to form the same time her vision blurred.
Jasmin felt the tears swell in her eyes. The scent of smoke and fire from the building was in her nostrils, the distant sounds of sirens and shouting echoed. Calebâs necklace gripped in her bruised and soot covering hands.
Itâs been months since their murderâyes, she knew deep down, it was no accidentâand the terrors of her mind did not get better and had no signs of going away. It doesnât look like it ever will, not until she uncovers the truth about her grandmother and Calebâs death.
The trail was getting colder in her investigation and the only information she had was that voice recording and the picture of a dead man in a hotel room. Then there was that name, one single name.
Onychinus. An organization and something that has so many unknowns.
Jasmin pulled back the covers in frustration and sat upright.
The chill of the room reminded her of the cold air of the morgue and the aura of dead when having to identify the bodies.
A hissed curse left her lips at the direction of her thoughts. When will the madness end?
Gods above! Her emotions were all over the place tonight. It wasnât right nor it fair that they had to die while she lived. This survivorâs guilt was suffocating.
Maybe she shouldnât have returned to work so soon, Nurse Yvonne did tell her that talking to someone about the trauma would be the best route. However, the thought of having to bear her soul to a stranger wasnât ideal in her opinion.
It didnât help fourteen years ago so why would it work now?
Would it be wrong for her to give up on living? Jasmin doesnât consider herself a suicidal person but sometimes thinking about all that has happened, all that she endures, and her unresolved demons didnât help when her thoughts took a turn for the worst.
There were a few times when she found herself with a handful of pills in her hand and the intrusive voices would shout for her to swallow everything and just let go or when she would be standing at a busy crosswalk and the urge to step into upcoming traffic was strong.
There wasnât anyone she was awfully close to. Yes, Tara was her best friends and she and Zayne are childhood friends but talking to them about her feelings made her uncomfortable. They had their own problems and didnât need her adding to it.
It would be so easy, there were so many choices. All she had to do was commit, yet something always snaps her out that headspace just at the right moment.
She needed a cup of tea. Going back to sleep was a lost cause and besides, work was in a few hours anyways.
Nodding, Jasmin slowly left her room and made her way to the kitchen. A quick glance at the wall clock showed 4:45 A.M. Maybe watching the sunrise would improve her mood.
Her body moved on auto pilot as she maneuvered around the space. Rafayelâs face popped into her mind. It jolted her something fierce. Then she remembered that conversation. The bounty out for him.
Shit! How could she have forgotten that. Maybe he could give her some insight on why he was wanted in the N109 zone or point her into the direction of someone that could provide intel about Onychinus.
She would need to be careful with her approach. If whoever she was after could go at such lengths to terminate her family, they wonât hesitate to take her out. Maybe going in alone wonât be the right course but who could she talk to about this?
She rolled her eyes but smiled. He could be insufferable at times and a sass mouth, yet he came through for her in the most convenient of times.
There was a slight guilty feeling about having to use him to get want she wanted but this was too important an opportunity to pass up.
âWhatâs got you lost in thought, Ms. Bodyguard?â
Rafayelâs voice brought her from her thoughts, and she looked up to see him standing at the entrance of the booth she chose.
Jasmin took the time to admire the artist. She wonât lie, he gave her butterflies in her stomach just at the sight of him and every time he was near, the smell of the ocean followed him, tantalizing her senses; making her as calm as ever no matter how frazzled she might be.
Today he wore black pant, a white shirt and a cardigan (it looked so soft). The piercing on his right ear was a recent addition to his look and she tried to push back the blush that wanted to make itself present.
If it wasnât for the self-control or the conviction that she would not pursue any romantic relationship with anyone until she gets her ducks in a row, Jasmin would have kissed him.
âI feel like youâre judging me with that glare in your eyes.â
She couldnât stop the eye roll âJust sit, I donât have the energy to judge you; maybe some other time.â
Rafayel looked at her and smiled âIâll confess that your call threw me for a loop. Normally, Iâm the one calling first. Miss me?â
That mouth. Why did she wait two months to talk to him?
âSo, what if I missed you? Even on good days you prove to be entertaining.â
He faked a dramatic gasp âyouâre showing your scales today. Iâm not only here for your pleasure.â
They went back and forth, ordering their respective drinks and keeping light conversation. Jasmin felt lighter and it was freeing.
âI called you because I came across something that left me concerned and it involves you.â
This caused Rafayel to knit his brow, the look of confusion plain on his face
âI âve been investigating a case that is leading me to the N109 zone, and I came across a bounty for your capture. Why are you wanted? I thought you were a painter?â
She could see the sudden shift of his eyes, they narrowed, and his gaze became like steel âI am a painter. Why is a rookie Linkon hunter taking on a case with the N109 zone connected? I thought that was left for a higher tier of hunters.â
Folding her arms, she leaned back into the seat âIâm not a rookie and yes, cases concerning the N109 zone do get assigned to higher ranking hunters, but this case has nothing to do with the Association. This is personal, Rafayel.â
He frowned âWhen I start to think that youâre staying out of trouble, you prove me wrong. Make me understand why you need information on the N109 zone.â
âHave you heard about Onychinus?â
âI am or may not have. What do they have to do with your case?â
She was hesitant to let him in on why she was doing this. Rafayel pouted âYou canât come to me asking about serious stuff and then pull away. Work with me here.â
Sighing, she told him âI believe Onychinus is responsible for the death of my family.â
âYet you want to risk going down the rabbit hole to find out about them. What are you planning to do once you find Onychinus, invite yourself for tea and biscuits? The N109 zone is not for the faint of heart and there are a great many unsavory characters.â
Jasmin scoffed âYouâre speaking from experience.â
Rafayel gave a smirk âI was invited as a guest to an auction there and refused to create a painting for some douchebag and the next thing I know, a bounty is on my head. My talent is both a blessing and a curse, I swear.â
âYou got a bounty on you cause you refused to offer your services? Thatâs it?â
He huffed âYeah! What were you expecting? Most day Iâm procrastinating, going on walks on the beach and just lazing about, why waste my time taking a job that was going to take me away from my downtime. No thank you.â
âThat makes sense, I guess. Look, I know that I have no right involving you in my problems, but I really need to get into the N109 zone undetected and a way to gather information about Onychinus. Can you help me⊠please?â
âIf I help you, youâll owe me, Ms. Bodyguard. Can you handle what I want when it's time for me to collect the debt owned?â
Alexandra sat across from Lyssa sipping a drink and watched as her friend stabbed a fork into the cheesecake they ordered.
âSo, we were being followed. That is interesting.â
Lyssa gave her a deadpanned look âsomething tells me you were anticipating it. Care to share with the class?â
âOh, itâs nothing serious. I may have left the zone right after there was a missive not to do so. We get full lockdowns from time to time but I wasnât feeling this one. I wanted to see you and you take precedence over even the head honcho.â
Lyssa frowned âshould I be worried? I do not like unknown people following me. It doesnât end well, you know this.â
Alexandra grinned like she had a juicy secret to spill âI would not deliberately put you in harm's way tweets and by extension the chick. I wanted to prove a theory that is all. When I return to the zone, my tag along wonât be a bother for anyone.â
It was Lyssaâs turn to grin âSome one got on your nerves I see. Well in that case, I donât feel sorry for the sucker.â
âWith that out the way, have you made the moves on that Doctor you have a crush on?â
Lyssaâs breath hitched nearly causing her to choke on her spit âNo I have not, and I would appreciate it if you donât ask such foolishness. I have no interest in pursuing a romantic relationship, besides, he is not interested in me.â
âDid he tell you this himself?â
âDidnât need to, body language says everything.â
âWhich can be faked if you have the training for it. You should talk to him.â
âI did... Yesterday before you showed up. He found the apartment.â
Alexandra raised a brow, her interest caught. How did the renown Dr. Zayne find tweetâs apartment if she didnât tell him?
âHe showed up. Okay, what did he want?â
âTo see if Iâm still breathing, I think. I decided to turn off my phone after talking to Captain Jenna, booking my leave and didnât feel like talking to anyone. Seems my little disappearing act got a few people concerned.â
The brunette laughed âand that isnât a sign blaring at you to ask the man out? I know you didnât give him the apartmentâs location, that little act shows he cares.â
âNo, Jenna gave him the fucking location. Thatâs the last time I tell her anything important. Iâm sure he only came looking for me cause Dr. Waverly is a worry wort, going full mother hen and batshit crazy cause I miss my appointment and didnât notify him as to why.â
Alexandra kissed her teeth âStop being fucking cynical tweets. Not everyone is out to get you. I still think you should shoot your shot.â
âWhen pigs fly, and hell freezes over. I hate it when you bunch play matchmaker, the last person didnât understand boundaries and ended up in the hospital with three bullet wounds. I would like to not have a repeat of that, thank you very much. I need to set a good example for the baby.â
âAww but tweedy, violence is part of your love language. What is declaration of love without a little blood.â
âPsycho.â
âThat's me. Hey! You remember that mission we went on and got infiltrated by that guy? Iâve never seen you so bloodthirsty. You totally had the hots for him.â
âLexie, we are not having this conversation. That was years ago and just to put the record straight, he was trying to steal my codes, they were worth millions.â
âWish you could have a go at him again. The chemistry you two had was wild.â
Lyssa giggled; Alexandra always got like this when she was trying to get her to date. Any guy that Lexie sees breathing in her direction she wants to play match maker. Some things never got old.
âWhatever happened to him though? Last thing I remembered was you two falling through the floor, still fighting.â
âWe kept fighting until he had me pinned, did something to me with his Evol and I panicked. Bit the fucker hard enough to draw blood and counter attacked before I bolted out of there when I got free from his grasp. He was too strong for me, and I know my limits.â
âHow romantic.â
âYou need help, I swear to the Gods.â
âI am perfectly normal, plus my tendencies got me my husband so you canât say it doesnât work.â
âHe and you are cut from the same cloth no matter how meek he might look.â
âYou never know Tweets, maybe fate will send your mystery man your way since youâre stubborn about pursuing the good Doctor.â
âNah. Fate and I donât like each other in the romance department. I got you bunch and little Ella. Iâm contented.â
Towels General, Slight Angst, Smutish - Hellboy x Reader
Melt the Day Away Smut - Hellboy x ReaderÂ
Grooming General, Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Jewelry and Sass - Part 1 General, Slight Sexual Tension - Hellboy x Reader
Drunk Hellboy - Part 2Â General, Slight Sexual Tension - Hellboy x Reader
Touch Starved  Angst, Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Meet The Demon  Slight Angst, Smut - Hellboy x Reader
Closet Case Sexual Tension - Hellboy x Reader
Hell of a Good Time  Pure Smut - Hellboy x Alice Monaghan
Hellboy x Reader Headcanon-ish Â
Welcome Home Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Cuddling up and having a making session with Hellboy after a mission
W.I.PÂ Fluff, Slight Angst - Hellboy x Reader
Smoke Show General, Slight Sexual Tension - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy x Reader (hurt and comfort)Â General, Slight AngstÂ
Pamcakes General, Slight Fluff, Slight Angst - Hellboy x Reader
Keep Me Warm General, Slight Sexual Tension - Hellboy x Reader
Taking Care of Hellboy after he comes home from a fight - General, Cute - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy with a s/o who is skilled in magicÂ
Hellboy 2019 Headcanons General, Personality stuffÂ
Hellboy as a sub and his s/o the dominant in their relationship Headcanon
Stolen moments in the library Slight Smut - Hellboy x Reader
Domestic Hellboy Headcanon General, Slight Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Video Call Headcanon General, Slight NSFW - Hellboy x Reader
Pampering Big Red Headcanons General, Slight Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Chubby! S/O x Hellboy Canon General, Fluff, Slight Smut - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy x Super Affectionate/Bodyworshipping S/O HeadcanonsÂ
Get outta bed  General, Fluff - Hellboy x Reader
Forever and A Day  Domestic, Pregnant - Hellboy x Reader
HELLBOY x READER, (reader self conscious about weight HEADCANONS)
Training with Hellboy Headcanon - Hellboy x Reader
Going on A Date with HBÂ Headcanon - Hellboy x Reader
Playful Hellboy Headcanons - Hellboy x Reader
Hungover Mawwiage w/ HBÂ Headcanon - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy x Short ânâ Smoll S/OÂ Headcanon - Hellboy x Reader
All Good Things to Those Who Wait Smut - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy Food 10 Headcannons w S/OÂ
Hellboy Headcannon - Hellboy trying to seduce s/o
Writing prompt! âItâs not fairâ âWhat isnât fair?â 'You have no business having such a sweet face with that killer bicep.â Hellboy x ReaderÂ
Head Cannon - Anung Un Rama with a human s/o
Fandom -Â Hellboy 2004 & 2019
Hellboy x Plus size reader HeadcanonÂ
HELLBOY HABITS HEADCANONSÂ
Reunion Sex with Hellboy Headcanons
Finding a Way to Say Sorry General, Slight Angst - Hellboy x Reader
Hospital Bills General, Slight Angst - Hellboy x Reader
Hellboy Headcanon -Â Hellboy x Reader
Take a Damn Break General - Hellboy x Reader
NSFW Hellboy AlphabetÂ
S/O going missing for nearly a yearÂ
STUCKAGE Â Smut - Hellboy x S/O
Hellboy X S/O with his Tail Smut
Hellboy x S/O smut
S/O who has insomnia/nightmares  Slight Angst, Cute - Hellboy x S/O
Hellboy 2004 -
Ninlil: The Eldritch Abomination General, Angst, Smut - Hellboy x OFC
Altar Smut - Liz x Hellboy
Hot-Headed and Hurt General, Slight Angst - Hellboy x Reader
Dating Hellboy HeadcanonsÂ
Puzzle Pieces General, Fluff, Slight Angst - Liz x Hellboy
One kiss led to another - Liz x Hellboy
Hellboy falls for a reaper Headcanons
Headcannons on dating Hellboy
UnSouled Angst, Romance - Liz x Hellboy
Hellboy and Liz Smut, Romance
The Five Times That Liz Sherman Almost Kissed Hellboy Slight Angst, Romance - Liz x Hellboy
Love After All Smut, Romance - Liz x Hellboy
Headcanon where Hellboy is jealous of a human flirting with his S/O
Normal?....... bleh, being unique is more my forte @allthingsr-betternotbeingnormal - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
