#[ after my dumb cry fest ]
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Boy, oh boy.. The price of freedom... Is Steep....
Ind. Priv. and Selective Multi fandom Multi muse featuring muses from Disney, Star Wars, Final Fantasy, BG3, and more! Dearly loved by Jet. Personals will be blocked on sight.
CARRD. COMM.
#Self Promotion :\\ Lost and Found#[ This is all I have today ]#[ after my dumb cry fest ]#[ over a game that isn't even out yet ]#[ anyways I'll see if I can't find time to be on tomorrow ]
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you said angst so... jj x kook!reader JJs starts pushing pogues and reader away and when reader tries to get through to JJ, he says awful things to reader hitting her/them below the belt by bringing up her trauma and the fact she/they are a kook. maybe she completly ices him and the pogues out(bc the pogues forgave him) and start hanging out with kooks. maybe the topper/rafe/kelce trio to really drive home she doesn't care about them anymore. maybe she's even there when pope and jj get beat up? IDK i thought this up off the top of my head. i don't reader crying in the shower heartbreaking sob fest angst. also i left what her supposed trauma up to you bc i don't know how far you're willing to go with that.
-đ
okay i lied. iâm doing this one bc it intrigued me.. lol. but also hi đ anon !! ur not overwhelming me i love all the asks, itâs just a matter of energy lol. but love u !!
also prepare for this to be lengthy due to the thick plot, lol
i actually am proud of this and how i wrote it, i rlly like it đ„č.
i will get out more posts today, likely 2-3. 4 if i get drink an alani lmao.
mean!jj x sensitive!kook!reader.
you had always known jj, due to the small size of the island. however, you just started getting closer with him the past few weeks.
you had always seen into him more then others did, even from afar.
you noticed the bruises on his cheeks, and how theyâd fade over the next few days. you noticed when heâd gotten a haircut, likely from john b. you didnât know why, but you found him interesting.
you probably shouldnât have, considering your brother â rafe, absolutely hated him. he was a bad kid, you always saw him getting arrested with the rest of the pogues.
the reason you two started getting closer, was due to a drunken hookup you had a misunderstanding on. clearly, he looked at it as any other girl he would hook up with, no feelings and not a thought about it again.
you however, looked at it way different. you really genuinely liked him, truly. you didnât care about any of the bad rumors about him, you didnât see him as just the bad. you saw the good too.
a few days ago, you went to the chateau to see jj. you hadnât talked to him since the hookup, expect for minor greetings. you wanted to get to know him more. understand him, fully and completely.
itâs safe to say it didnât go well. you sat him down, explaining how you really did like him. he listened at first, but as soon as you started trying to open him up, he immediately tensed.
you asked him about how come he always has those bruises on him, and where theyâre from. he stood up immediately, scoffing at your attempt.
âyouâre fuckinâ serious? you just came here to make fun of me?â
you shook your head quickly at his misunderstanding, explaining how thatâs not what you meant at all.
âyâknow, itâs not shit you would understand at all. youâre too much of a dumb pretty little âkook princessâ with no thoughts in her head to figure it out.â
you swallowed at his harsh words, tears filling your eyes. you opened your mouth to speak, but he just kept spewing more words out.
âever think thatâs why i didnât talk to you after we hooked up? because we couldnât ever be anything. i could never be with somebody like you.â
tears fell from your eyes at his words, trying to take deep breaths. you attempted to speak again, before he interrupted you.
âjust save it, okay? go back to figure 8 where you belong.â
you let more tears fall, listening to him and gathering your stuff and leaving the chateau.
you walked home with tears down your face the whole time, thoughts stirring. was that really all he thought about you? just a kook who never had to worry about anything?
your tears eventually faded, feelings going numb from exhaustion.
when you got home, you pushed your way past your family, going upstairs to shower.
when you got in, you immediately broke down again. tears filling your eyes and streaming down your face.
you wanted jj to like you, you really did. but if he really had those thoughts of you, you needed to let him go. you couldnât go on thinking about him, worrying, if your feelings werenât reciprocated.
over the next few days, you left jj and every pogue alone. you noticed him around, though. you didnât see the pogues around him, either. it seemed like he was avoiding them, just like you were avoiding him. he looked almost upset, everywhere he went too.
after a while, he got over whatever little mood he was in and you saw him laughing, running around with his friends again.
you however, were not over it. his words really hurt, and you couldnât get them out of your head. but you knew you needed to give him the same treatment back.
so you decided to start hanging out with your friends too. you started going to the boneyard with topper, kelce, and rafe. you knew jj hated them, but you couldnât bring yourself to show any care if you werenât receiving any.
you left him alone for a while after that, silently thinking and worrying about him in your head instead.
you opted for watching from afar, both of you making awkward eye contact at times.
you still wondered where those bruises came from, and if you would ever know at all.
#obx#jj maybank#jj obx fic#jj mayback imagine#jj angst#jj obx imagine#jj obx#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank x reader#jj outer banks#obx au#obx fanfiction#obx fic#jj#angst#sensitive!reader#mean!jj
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Thirsty Thursday - Shut up and dance with me
steddie, omegaverse, a little bit of fun during my angst-fest to celebrate some follower milestones đ„°
Steve keeps saying he feels goofy wearing a suit, even if heâs happy to do it for Robin. Itâs non-traditional, sticking an omega in black-tie. But neither is an alpha like Buckley having an omega as her best man. Her mating ceremony is beautiful, Chrissy absolutely sparkles, and Steve cries through half of it because heâs so happy for his best friend.
Eddie might cry a little, too.
Heâs seated in the front row, with Robinâs family, since he and Steve are âcapital Sâ Serious, and Steve has practically been adopted by Robinâs parents. Melissa catches him crying and smiles; sheâs certain to ask when he and Steve are going to tie the knot themselves.
Heâs nowhere near ready to answer that one. Especially without Steve to help. Eddie hasnât wanted to rush things, even being friends so long beforehand. Knows that he loves Steve more than anything. But theyâve barely been dating a yearâŠ
After the ceremony, Steve catches his eye from the reception line. âYou good?â Eddie mouths, quirking a questioning brow.
Steve makes a dumb faceâpretends to cryâgives him a thumbs up, and itâs like everything rearranges, his whole world shifting a couple inches to the left.
He knows.
All his worries about it being too fast float away like so much dust on the wind. Heâd be happy enough watching Steve from across the room for the rest of his life, to giggle and mime at one another.
But after the reception, he gets to take Steve home.
Not being in the wedding party, he should honestly head over to the venue soonâafter going through the receiving line. He kisses Chrissyâs cheek, tells her she looks stunning, high fives Robin for locking down her perfect omega, and whispers, âIâll be waiting for you with a cocktail,â in Steveâs ear.
He manages to cop a feel, squeezing Steveâs ass before pulling back, earning him a tiny whine as they part.
Forcing himself to keep walking, Eddie hates leaving his mâ
Hates leaving Steve. He wants to run back and scoop him into his arms. To keep him close.
Instead, he gets in Steveâs car and drives to the reception, grabs a scotch from the open bar, and distracts himself from missing Steve by chatting with Jonathan who is just as in need of the company since Argyle and Nancy are also in the wedding party.
Eddieâs on his second scotch when he hears whispers that the limo has arrived, and he goes to order a Manhattan for Steve with extra cherries. Heâs barely got the coupe glass in hand before the DJ is announcing the new Mr. and Mrs. Buckley.
Theyâve changed into their reception outfits: Chrissyâs dress short and frothy, Robin in metallic pants and a shirt unbuttoned halfway down her sternum, both of them already dancing as they make their grand entrance.
The whole room hoots and hollers as they burst into cheers.
The rest of the party has changed too. Nancyâs in a slinky dress, the depth of the black of it the only thing hiding the outline of her dick. Argyle is in shorts that make him seem ridiculously tall, and Heather is in a romper covered in rhinestones.
Then thereâs Steve.
Heâs dressed to match Robin in silver-sequined pants, trading the button-down for a loose tank top that shows off too much of his golden skin, freckles and moles like so many stars in the sky.
Eddieâs mouth waters as he makes his way over to him, drink in hand.
âDamn, sweetheart!â he says, eyes locked on Steveâs tits, needing to hold him by the sides and slip his thumbs in to tease his nipples.
Steve grips hush chin, tilts his gaze up until their eyes meet. âThanks, babe.â He smiles into their kiss, uses his teeth a little.
Eddie offers him the drink, and Steve happily accepts, plucking out a cherry and popping it into his mouth. Another kiss, this one cherry-sweet, and Steve downs his drink, holding his extra cherry between his teeth for a long moment, grinning as he bites it in half.
âWhy is it so hot when you do that?â Eddie rasps, his dress pants suddenly a little too tight.
Steve smiles, pulls half the cherry from between his lips, and presses it to Eddieâs mouth. âShut up and dance with me, Munson,â he says, laughing, barely containing his delight.
He drags Eddie onto the dance floor, the alpha going willingly, hands easily finding their way onto Steveâs hips. Falling to the beat, into moving with one another is easy. So easy, Eddie nearly forgets his revelation from earlier.
And heâs distracted again by Steveâs chest.
âYou okay there, Munson?â he teases, using a single finger to direct Eddieâs gaze back up to face him. âKeep your eyes on me.â
A purr rumbles through Eddieâs chest as he leans in close. âWhy dâya still call me Munson all the time, Stevie?â he murmurs, then kisses Steveâs ear.
âLike the way it sounds. I like everything about you, Eddie.â The words are soft and vulnerable, barely audible over the pulse of the music.
It makes Eddie brave enough to be vulnerable, too.
âHow do you like the sound of Mrs. Munson? Or Ms.â He smiles. âWhichev-â
Steve cuts him off with a kiss.
âI like the sound of that a lot.â
#steddie#omegaverse#fanfiction#omega steve harrington#alpha eddie munson#ficlet#stranger things fic#thirsty thursday
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Yours
February Filth Fest : Day Eight
Kang Yeosang x fem reader
a/n: I WENT CRAZY WRITING THIS I CANT EVEN TELL YOU HOW MANY TIMES I "DAMNED" MYSELF .
"Convince me."
(>áŽâą)genre:
smut w/o plot
àČ _àČ warning/contents:
not edited, degradation, zero build up, name calling(lots), using a toy, edging, dacryphilia, dumbification, spitting, praise, pet names, slapping, unprotected(đ
đ
), possessive dialogue, i went all out for my boy
tags: @cherryxsang @k-drizzle
SMUT UNDER CUT MDNI
"What? Can't even take a little toy?" Yeosang quips, not even turning his head to look at you- instead looking at the movie that neither of you really pay attention to. But he can hear you crying from the unrelenting, gently vibrations. You use your free hand and grab onto his forearm, whining. "How will you take my dick if you can't even take that?"
"I can take it, I'm taking it! I am!" You whine as you hold the handle of toy as still as you can, tears blurring your vision entirely. The wand of it twirls around inside you, touching your g-spot every so often. A piece extends up just above the handle and rests down on your clit, vibrating all the while. "I can take it, I can take it, you know I can so stop testing me!"
But it's on the lowest setting. And it's not enough. And every time you try to get more friction and fuck yourself on it, he slaps you back to your senses before turning back to the TV. "Please, Yeosang!"
He doesn't respond to you, laying still on his side of the bed with his head propped up on his hand, smirking as he 'watches' the movie. He's so cocky and so beautiful and loves you and makes you cum like nobody else ever has. But he lives to hear you beg. "Baby, I need you... I took it like a good girl, please just fuck me."
He tutts his tongue, lifting his shirt above his head and tossing it to a far corner of your bedroom. "Took it like a good girl? Doesn't look like it. You didn't even cum, did you?"
"No..." You admit, hips jolting as he trails his finger tips, light as a feather, up your thigh to your hip. "I need you to make me cum, Baby. Please, I'm so fucking close."
"So you're not a slut... You're just a cock slut." He slowly crawls his way up the bed, keeping his eyes locked on yours even as they threaten to look at your gushing pussy. "That it, bitch? C'mon, tell me," he draws out as he slowly moves your hand away. Without you holding it still, it wiggles around more violently- making you cry out, tears completely flooding your pillow case.
He slaps your leg and holds his hand over the angry flesh to calm it as he all but growls, "I asked you a fucking question, Darling."
"Yes! I'm a cock slut!"
"Any cock will do?"
"No, yours! Need yours, Yeosang!"
"Mine?" He asks innocently, cocking his head to the side. "Just mine, Babe?"
"Yes, just yours. You're the only one, Sang... please stop torturing me, I need you so badly. I need- I w- please! I'm your cock slut."
"Awe," he coos, hands rubbing up your sides and wrapping around your shoulders. He pulls you down to be face to face with him. "My poor little whore... So cute, all needy for me like this." You almost combust on the spot when one of his hands grabs the handle of the toy and begins thrusting it slowly. "If you can cum on this, I'll fuck you as much as you want. Yeah?"
You nod, dumb. "Please, just don't stop." The feeing of the silicone dragging against your walls after so so long has you buzzing. Tears clouding your vision, you fail to notice the way his smirk widens as he speaks.
"I won't stop."
--
"Yeosang, Baby! S'too much!" You cry as you hold onto his shoulders.
He abandoned the toy the second you came, fucking himself into you before you even got the chance to catch your breath. His fingers had started a non-stop attack on your sensitive clit. "No it's not. You said you could take it," he grabs your face and squishes your cheeks together, spreading your lips. He spits right into your waiting mouth and places his hand over your lips. "So be my good whore and take it."
You gulp down his saliva, licking at his finger and smiling as he takes it away. You roll your tongue out in pride. "There's my good whore." He smiles back down at you, "my perfect fuck toy."
His loving smile fades as his hips return to their merciless thrusts. Your hips buck up into him, and it doesn't anything but please him. "Stay still." He puts more weight down on your hips and holds them in place as he pounds into you. You scream out, back trying desperately to arch but not getting very far. Now, all of his weight is ontop of you. "My dumb, pretty, little thing. Can't even follow a simple demand. Stay fucking still or you'll never feel my cock again."
You know he's bluffing. He knows he bluffing. But it doesn't stop you from stilling underneath him, simply wrapping your arms around him and trying to ground yourself as he fucks you to another planet.
"That's it, get comfortable. You're not going anywhere until I'm done with you." He wraps his hand up in your hair and holds you tightly, groaning into your ear. "This slutty little hole is all mine. All mine. Right, Darling? This pussy is mine?"
All you can do is stare over at him from where he rests his head next to yours, so fucking close that you can feel his hot breath. "Sang- Yeosang, I w- fuck."
He pulls you onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip as he slows his thrusts to give you a chance to think. He brushes back your sweaty hair, smiling gently like he's not about to spit venomous words at you. "You are my whore." He grabs your chin and pulls you impossibly closer. "Right?"
"Yes, Baby."
"Wanna hear you say it."
"I'm your whore."
"Cute," he mocks as he begins to fuck into you with an inhuman force. "Now say it like you mean it, bitch." He holds your head into his chest, kissing your head as you moan violently, clawing down his back. "Convince me, and you can cum as much as you want. You know good girls get what they want."
Yeosang is mean in the bedroom, sure. But he's never a liar. And with the promise that he'll throw you over the edge again has you groveling. "I'm your whore, Baby! Your cock slut, I'm your cum dump and- God!" You slap his bicep as he nibbles on your neck, grabbing at the back of his head with the other.
"Keep going," he urges, a neediness in his voice that makes your cunt tighten around him.
"I'm your Darling, your- fucking God!I'm your good girl, r-right?" He nods into your neck, licking all the way up to behind your ear, taking your earlobe in his teeth. "And I love it, love your cock! I love you, I'm yours, yours!"
"All fucking mine," he moans, content with your begging- his hand going down to your cunt and making good on his promise to make you cum.
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âïžHARRY POTTER REC FEST 2023âïž
Lightning round because i for sure got distracted and never finished after day 12
so here we go i wont go into too much detail for any of these I did skip a couple that i didn't have an idea for as expected but enjoy!
13. A fic with over 100k wordsÂ
Percy Take the Wheel by KittySmith
My personal favorite long Percy-centric fic!
Based on the concept of âWhat if Molly and Arthur died between the first and second books and Percy ended up being the brother to step up to take care of his younger siblingsâ
14. A favorite series
Harry Potter and the Ticket Backwards by viciousmouse
Gen Time travel Auïżœïżœs my beloved. Another Harry goes back in fic but this one has a ton of focus on smaller characters Dudley, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott ect ect.
Also Harry convinces Percy to try to become a lawyer.Â
16 A fic that made you laughÂ
Hexes Are Not Romantic by Electroid
Flintley with Marcus being dumb and not going about this whole flirting thing very well. Very cute.
19. Fic with the hottest smutÂ
Points (not) Taken by Green
Flintley with honestly, again Marcus just not doing boundaries but i think about it alot, itâs probably one of my favorite Flintley works.
20. A fic rated G
Dancing Lessons by HPfanatic12Â
Gen fic where Percy teaches Harry how to dance for the Yule Ball. Very cute and fun concept.
+ Ludicrous by mrsprobieÂ
Justin Finch-Fletchley/Percy Weasley, meet cute. Very cute.
23. A soulmate fic
Into Oblivion by hmweasley
Draco Malfoy/Percy Weasley, I know someone else has Recâed this one for this fest already but i am too itâs very interestingÂ
24. A holiday fic
Saving Christmas by A_DoorÂ
Percy Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Very cute story of Blaise trying to show Percy their into him without saying it despite their many attempts going right over Percyâs head.
25. A fic rated T
wholly true by starsailing
Flintley, Once again awkward Marcus trying to court/flirt will never not be entertaining to me. In this case with gift givingÂ
26. A fic with an ending you canât stop thinking about
There's Rue for You by Mr_Customs_Man
Flintley but only like kinda, anyway Ok so iâll admit i'm stretching ending here. The part I think the most about with this is the end of Percyâs stay with Marcus but still I think about the regular ending too, because that whole last paragraph is just oof.
Itâs fic exploring an AU where Peter polyjuiced as Percy after the fight and Percy goes through hell
27. A Muggle-AU fic
blueberry eyes ( seem to make time still ) by pandorascrate
Hannah Abbott/Percy Weasley. I liked that they didn't immediately get together. It took years in the story for them to get together. Also Percy feels good in this. I like the way he was written.
29. A post-canon fic More Lessons in Grieving as Taught by Dennis Creevy by angeladex
Gen Dennis and George talk after the final battle. Pulling Dennis into stories revolving around the Weasleyâs grief for Fred is always really interesting to me and iâm not going to lie this one almost made me cry.
30. A pre-canon fic Life Lessons as Taught by Luna Lovegood by angeladex
Gen When Lunaâs mom dies she goes to the burrow to tell the Weasleyâs her family wonât be coming over for dinner after all and Percy walks her home. I really liked this. Percyâs reactions to a 9 year old Luna trying to weave around saying outright that her mom is dead was really good.
31. A fav amongst favs Vivaldi and Hot Chocolate by Patriceavril
Stan Shunpike/Percy Weasley, Iâm very biased towards this one i wonât even lie but i love it very much. Itâs cute, itâs sweet. Percyâs characterization is really nice. Stanâs characterization is really fun.
@hprecfest
#hprecfest2023#percy weasley#marcus flint#draco malfoy#george weasley#hannah abbott#justin finch fletchley#stan shunpike#dennis creevey#luna lovegood#flintley#Stercy#blaise zabini
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In anticipation of the upcoming 2023 Logan x Veronica "New Year, New Fic" fest, I bring you a small selection of fics inspired by epistolary exposition. Traditionally 'epistolary' is story written through letters, but this could be letters, emails, texts, etc.
Day 1 of the challenge is February 1, 2023 so be sure to check out the #2023 LV New Year here on tumblr or the AO3 collection for more fic and art.
As a reminder, there are so many fics that fill these tropes. These are just a smattering, so make sure to make note of the ones you love the most and next week, when the challenge starts, maybe go drop those you love a kudos, a comment, or both to share the joy.
(Apologies for the s4 gif, but they're very cute if you just forget everything that came before and comes after)
Starting these fic recs with the two that inspired the prompt:
Fic: Three Emails Sent Across Continents (and Possibly Five Text Messages) by Care Rating: T for 'these two dumbs' Tropes and Themes: post-movie AU, sexual attraction to forearms, writing smut is challenging and Veronica acknowledges that Read if: You like a little romantic anticipation, also would ogle Logan's forearms over Skype, and appreciate the simplicity of a 'hi' text message that can make one's heart race. Also available as a podfic!
Fic: Wingspan by @theawkwardterrier Rating: G for General Wonderful Courtship and Romance Tropes and Themes: post-movie AU, Veronica writes letters, this person cries tears, 'funtimes communication porn' (author's description), issues will be resolved whether they like it or not Read if: You want to read a fic where intimacy slowly uncurls itself like a cat.
Fic: Just-in-Case Letters by @machawicket (must have AO3 account to read) Rating: T for TEARS STREAMING DOWN MY FACE Tropes and Themes: Logan writes letters before each deployment and I feel emotions in every chapter, pitch perfect dry wit of one Logan Echolls Read if: DO NOT SKIP TO THE END OF THESE LETTERS. Promise me. The final chapter is the letter Logan writes during his movie deployment, but Macha builds to that moment in a way you will want to experience for yourself. (Though I am forever crying over "I want years with you, Veronica.")
Fic: Excerpts from Logan's Feelings Journal by bennet_7 Rating: Author lists as PG-13 but that's mainly because Logan is a smartass Tropes and Themes: Not a very couple-y Logan/Veronica fic but you can read between the lines, classic comedy fic from circa s2, journal entries as exposition Read if: You have 10 min and want some Logan snark in a short time frame and/or want to read a very clever way to account for the events of s2.
Fic: Snapshot by crimsonclad Rating: NR by author, I think it's a solid PG-13 for some thematic content and some swears Tropes and Themes: This fic is non-linear, this fic features a Target, this fic features domesticity, therefore this fic is wonderful and should be celebrated Read if: You want an unconventional cousin to an epistolary fic. Each section is bracketed by a story a tabloid has run about Logan (or a comment in the press) and then what was really going on behind the scenes. Also, a rare pairing of Connor Larkin and Weevil is always a delight.
Ones you love that I failed to mention? Make sure you make note and celebrate the wonderment when the celebration begins on February 1, 2023!
#2023 lv new year#vm fanfic#logan x veronica#logan echolls#veronica mars#veronica mars fanfic#lv fanfic#otp: the one person
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13, 14 and 31 for the uncommon oc questions? for whatever ocs come to mind first
(also A and B for the creator questions for whoever comes to mind too :> )
before i look at the questions UHHH ill choose eva and centi because theyre bouncing in my head (eva bc brainrot centi bc hes my icon).
13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?
eva was raised as a little nestie boy and in my mind very fancy rich colors are always light and pastel like marble and stuff and my brain always sees him dressed in white. i think he thinks he looks most dapper in white. maybe even gray. monochromes mostly because its hard to coordinate an outfit when your hair is fuckin Blue and you don't want to look like a stupid clown.
i however am in the impression that eva would look nice in red. and golds. and pale greens. and black. i just like eva
centi does NOT CARE in fact he HATES UNNECESSARY HUMAN CONSTRUCTS. what do you MEAN i cant go out to the supermarket in the human's PAJAMAS eva you are an IDIOT a FOOL a DOG to abiding to such STUPID human standards i am CONSERVING MY ENERGY . he doesn't care....but i guess he'd like colors that help him stealth or that he's had on him as a centipede bug
14. What animal do they fear most?
i . have never thought of this. UH. man i feel like animals are weird in PMworld. do they have zoos. obviously they have animals bc a lot of abnos are animal based but like. are they frequent. do people go to the zoos and see lions anymore. man. anyways i think if Eva met a chimp he would be scared. i feel like if he saw a hippo he'd be kinda scared. i dont think he'd be scared of horses he'd think theyre beautiful. i think, to a city dweller, animals arent as scary as the Daily Horrors you face, but at the same time, eva is a nestie what animals is he seeing? birds?? white eye crust dogs??????? lizards????? i think he'd be scared of snakes. oh my god he'd be scared of snakes. OH MY GOD HIS BOYFRIEND DISTORTS INTO A GIANT SNAKE BUG i think he'd be scared of snakes. i don't think he'd like bugs but he is fine with taking bugs out in a cup or throwing a newspaper at them but i think his parents kept his childhood house as bug-free as possible
centi is scared of anything that is scarier than him because it usually means it is a stronger devil than him. he is a predator bug outside of his fiend form and eats other bugs that are weaker and is very scary but he'd know his fucking place in front of Spider Devil or some shit. also he would probably not like dogs and cats. anything that poses a threat to a little centipede. however. as a human somehting like a bird? he laughs at now. dogs and cats? those can still fuck him up and put him in his place (owww scratches)
31. Who are they the most glad to have met?Â
theres very obvious answers here. but genuinely even if they annoy him sometimes or make his work harder eva does appreciate meeting his friends and his future bf at lobcorp because, if he had worked here for this long without making friends with ANYONE. no matter what he tells himself he would have been so much more miserable. having friends isnt what he came here for but its what happened and hes grateful that his friends somehow didnt get tired of him and put up with his rocky beginnings because he doesn't know if he wouldve ever found joy in this work without them
he is also, as expected, very glad to have met julian because otherwise after the wing fell he probably would have no other reason to be on this earth other than "maybe make weird art until you run out of money and starve". jules kind of rocked his mindset too and helped him realize the people around him at the corp Arent just dumb npcs who are expendable, they are Human and Mortal and Will Die. they experience emotion just like him. and even if they ar einsufferable they are human and you will ifnd yourself crying when they die even if you only knew them as the guy from info team who made your life worse. he cant fester in hatred and hope someone innocent eats shit because one day theyll die and he'll be stuck with those emotions, and not everyone comes back like jules did
centi.... well. this is mostly just inner oc stuff with my friend and i's ocs hehe. but he is happy to meet another bug devil like him. because well...i like to think theres SOme sort of solidarity in being a scary bug. maybe hes a bit jealous. but then theyre just..homies. he doesnt have to face the isolation of feeling like an eldrich monstrosity living in some dudes apartment and getting yelled at for being an eldritch monstrosity and being Different and being Caged in a Stupid Inferior Human Body God FUcking Damn It alone. he has another bug guy going thru the same. we must imagine the bug fiends happy
also despite how much he despises eva at first he eventually realizes this weird as fuck THing is actually. not killing him. this is a devil hunter yet he's making me a grilled cheese. whats wrong with hinm. i can throw his stuff around and he can get upset but he will still let me sleep in his house and stand up for me. whats wrong with him. eventually he will slowly warm up to him...but he'll still bother him. thats what fiends do
A) Why are you excited about this character?
for eva? I DONT KNOW . I DONT KNOW!!!!!!!! HES JUST SOME DUDE!!!! BUT I GAVE HIM MY LOVE FOR MUSIC MY LOVE FOR FISH AND GAVE HIM MULTIPLE NEUROSES AND NOW I LOVE HIM . THE FUCK. i also really love his distortion. just. grips heart. a lot of my ocs and stories have this theme of isolation, i guess it's something i like to explore a lot, and considering eva is a (count with me) autistic transgender mentally ill born-rich kid who was raised kind of sheltered from the full extent of horrors and Forced to go down a pre-determined path from birth . and not only that but he becomes even more of a fish out of water post-lobcorp and literally experiences the isolation of not even having a true god reach him through the metal walls of the corporation. idk. i think he's pretty isolationcore and neurosispilled and his distortion is fun because YES WE CAN FINALLY GO APESHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!! CATHARSIS!!! BUT PAIN AND GRIEF MANIFESTED INTO A PHYSICAL BLIND RAMPAGED BEING!!!!!
centi because he is a fucking BUG!!!!!! AND HES EVIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND HES SILLY!!!!!!!!!!! CARTOONISHLY EVIL FREAK WHO USED TO BE A LEGIT THREAT!!!!!! I LOVE THOSE FUCKERS!!!!!! and not only that HE SHARES A BODY WITH THE POLAR OPPOSITE AND IS A HORRIBLE MONSTER BEING FORCED TO LIVE AMONG HUMA---god damn it its another isolation and not fitting in story. BUG DYSPHORIA
B) What inspired you to create them?
nothing crazy here- eva was randomly generated employee number 2 in my lobcorp facility, i grew attached to him thru keeping him alive and also i liked his grumpy little face. survived to the very end of my playthrough, and juleva started as a crackship but i did like their dynamic a lot..................... things just escalated from there
centi because ummm i made a csm au of my ocs and i wanted julian to be the Centipede Fiend to reference his distortion but i created a whole new personality for the Centipede Devil inside of him and went oh my god i love them, i need them to be a new person, i love them, oh my god
thanks so much for the opportunity to ramble! if you made it this far im marrying you.
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Knd x AWISC au part 10.(warning: this part contains the most queerphobia.)
(After a long day, Benedict goes to drama club. He goes to the boy's locker room to get changed, only to see Linda there.)
Benedict: Linda, what are you doing in the boy's locker room?
Linda: Well-
Timothy: I told the principal if he didn't make Jacob change in the boy's locker where he belongs, that I would pay the school to shut down drama club.
Benedict: You've gone too far this time, Timothy!
Timothy: Shut up, you dumb crossing dressing f**got supporter!
Benedict: Stop calling Linda that!
Timothy: I won't stop calling Jacob a cross dressing f**got until he starts acting like the man that he is!
Benedict: You need to stop calling Linda by male pronouns because she didn't like being a boy and became a girl, so she's a girl now and she's a beautiful girl and I love her!
(Benedict covers his mouth, not meaning to admit his feelings for Linda out loud.)
Linda: (blushing)Benedict?
Timothy: You're in love with him!?
Benedict: I didn't mean to say that out loud, I was feeling so many strong emotions at once that it just came out!
Timothy: Ew, you nasty f**got!
Benedict: I'm not gay!
Timothy: You're a f**got in denial, if you weren't, you'd only be into real women! Are there any other filthy queers I should know about!?
Monty: Most of us in drama club are queer, the rest of us are allys like me and Benedict, even our script writer is bisexual and his best friend, Arthur is gay.
Timothy: You're all disgusting sinners, and I'm shutting the queer fest down next week!
(Timothy then proceeds to splash everyone with dirty toilet water and exists the locker room.)
Timothy: Nothing but the worst for you queers and queer supporters, come on my hot feline girlfriend!
Zoe: Okay. A: I am not your girlfriend! B: I have a name, I'm not just an object that solely exists to satisfy your fetish! And C: I would never date you because I'm a straight ally who supports the LGBTQ community!
Timothy: You're a queer supporter!? Ugh, I don't know what I saw in you!?
(Timothy storms out.)
MS.Barkson: Looks like drama club is dismissed, forever...
(Everyone starts to cry.)
Carter: I don't want drama club to shut down.
Benedict: We have to do something, we can't just let this sÌ”ÌÍÌÌ„ÌąÌșpÌ·ÌÌÌÌ
Ìo̞̟ÍÌÌÌŻiÌžÌÌÌÍÌÍlÌ·ÌÌÌeÌ”ÌÌšÌŹÌ€Ì«dÌ”ÍÍÌŹÍ Ì¶Ì
ÍÌÌÌÌp̶ÍÌŻÌÍÌŻi̶ÌÍÌÌ„Íe̜̔ÍÌÌÌŁÌčÌšÍc̶Ì
ÍÍÍ̧eÌžÍÌ Ì¶ÌÌÍÌŠoÌŽÍÌżÌÌ©fÌžÍÌÌÍÌÌșÌ Ì”ÌÍÌÌÌÌ ÌłmÌ”ÍÍÍÌÌ©eÌ”ÌÍÍÍÍaÌ”ÌÍÍÍ̄̚ÌtÌŽÌÌÌÌșÍ get away with this!
Monty: Brother, did you just call Timothy a piece of meat?
Benedict: I don't know why I said that, I meant to call Timothy a spoiled piece of shit, not meat.
(The two head outside and got in their mom's car.)
Mariana: So how was school?
Monty: It was okay until the end...
Mariana: What happened at the end of the day?
Benedict: Timothy decided he was gonna shut down drama club next week.
Mariana: That jerk shouldn't be able to get away with that!
Benedict: I know, right!?
(The two talk about how much of a jerk Timothy was and how they wish he would just get punished for his behavior, they eventually get back home, say goodnight to eachother, and go to bed.)
The end of part 10
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Living Room Album Review
I used to be a fan of AJR. But after learning more about music and finding out about AJR hate. Iâm a hater too. But if you like AJR, Iâm glad you like them. If you donât wanna hear negative comments about AJR, donât continue if youâre a fan. Because I have a lot of stuff I hate about this band. Anyway⊠letâs start!
1. Overture
This is the most boring overture AJR has ever done. I donât think I remember anything except that itâs just the upcoming songs from this album into this one song. 3/10.
2. Infinity
Thereâs a bit of country thrown into this whole album and I hate it. This was slightly more memorable than Overture. 4/10.
3. Iâm Ready
At first, I thought this song was ok at best. But now, itâs so annoying! The sample and lyrics are not good. Itâs just not good. 3/10.
4. My Calling
The âMy Calling!â Part was ok. But I didnât really enjoy it. Itâs better than Iâm Ready by a bit. 4/10.
5. Thirsty
Oh boy⊠This song is sooo bad⊠I think even AJR fans hate it. I donât need to listen to it again to remember the terrible beat, lyrics and the yodelling⊠The fucking yodelling⊠This is the most terrible song that had ever graced my ears⊠this shit stinks! 0/10.
6. Pitchfork Kids
Yeah⊠itâs definitely better than Thirsty. But itâs still not good. But itâs the best one so far. 4.5/10.
7. Woody Allen
The beat ainât bad. Itâs just the lyrics are terrible and out of date. Nobody wants to be Woody Allen. 3/10.
8. Livin' On Love
Forgettable and dull. Itâs not even as enjoyable as the beat for Woody Allen. I just keep getting disappointed. 2/10.
9. Big White Bed
I donât even remember what itâs about! Thatâs how forgettable this shit is! But if I can remember as hard as I can, I think itâs about the singer wanting to be on a big white bed with his lover. I donât know. If I get any of these meanings wrong, please let me know. Iâm pretty dumb. But not like a 5 year old kinda dumb. 1/10.
10. The World Is A Marble Heart
What is this about? I genuinely donât remember. All I remember is the beat. And it wasnât interesting at all. 1/10.
11. The Green And The Town
*Screams in agony* why did I do this to myself?⊠Five minutes makes it worse. The vocals are trying to be what I hate the most about country. The exaggerated country voice. I hate it so much. But they fumbled it so hard that itâs almost laughable. 1/10.
12. Big Idea
Hey! I have a big idea! Letâs go back in time and tell AJR to not make Thirsty or Christmas In June. (Christmas In June is from their fourth album). Anyway, Pro Tools and a mix and a big idea is a terrible lyric. 2/10.
13. Growing Old On Bleecker Street
Great! A forgettable song to end off a forgettable debut album. 2/10.
Overall: This is the second most forgettable album from AJR. as their next album too. But this one has Thirsty. So itâs not as forgettable but for all the wrong reasons. Iâm giving this snooze fest a 2.5/10.
I used to think Thirsty was actually good⊠now I just wanna cry myself to sleep and hope to think that thought away.
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nope. i've lost my patience with this. this is insane. do you want a rushed response based on half-assed effort? because you seem like the type who would also complain about that, too.
what part of 441 posts across 5 threads in the suggestions forum alone and even more in FRD and sent in through the Contact Us form having to be condensed into a document of key notes and then have the key notes read by all members of staff for further feedback and then workshopped on for solutions across several different working schedules not only for the initial problem undel THOUGHT was the issue and 'resolved', but also the problems that staff DIDN'T see, and then implement the solution how they see fit do you think they can accomplish in twelve days?
aequorin very clearly stated that it would take a while because they need to have staff members read the feedback only on the clock because they don't allow crunch or bad work/life balance, but also NOT interrupt their existing workflow negatively so that updates continue to come out and avoid the other annoying threads where people pipe up crying that there's no content update in 2 weeks. we are two months away from the biggest festival of the year and have plague fest coming TOMORROW. We also don't know the scope of just how much feedback they've gotten while trying to do their day to day duties, which they've encouraged to keep coming in AFTER the threads were locked while also getting feedback for OTHER things.
you have got to stop thinking that things have to operate on YOUR idea of timely when YOU are only ONE person, and the staff is SEVERAL separately moving parts in a company who are all doing different things requiring different prioritization. they know they fucked up by this point and they know that hurrying to a response would be incredibly dumb after the first response kicked up so much dust. edit: and to think they just wanted to silence people from dissenting the change, you're just as blind to the real problem as undel was to why people didn't like the change. did you read the threads and see how it practically melted into aggressing on one another and staff on multiple occasions? if a conversation that keeps coming up inevitably disintegrates into people getting nasty (no matter how small the aggression), proper moderation protocol demands shutting off that topic to stop it before it gets worse. if you have an infection, you have to take all your medicine or else the infection can become resistant to treatment.
12 days since they locked all the Fathom F threads and still not a peep from staff other than a generic, bland "We're still discussing it!" When the discussion was first brought into FRD, it only took two days for them to be like "oops sorry lmao we're changing it anyways." I didn't want to believe that they locked all the threads to shut up their players but the more days that we have silence from the staff on this issue the more it feels like they did just that
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Todayâs my birthday
#Luna Speaks#after my 6 hour cry fest I finally took some time off#Iâm sitting in my dark computer room typing this as this goes#but during my experiences on tumblr for like...7 years now made me really think of a few things#thereâs a lot of bad people here and a few good men amongst the pile#and that I shouldnât slouch on w/e on this dumb site 24/7 and try to focus on my other hobbies...or lack thereof#but thatâs pretty much all I have to say so good night
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Disclaimer; I had to read this, ugly cry with snot running and a fever. Sleep. Read it again, and still weep. It was good.
Coley, I will begin this long-ass, unhinged reblog by saying the biggest, most sincere thank you for writing this incredible piece of literature! It has captivated me from the very first lines, to the very last. It has truly helped me in my journey and my discovery in the fact that I am neurodivergent, and has really helped my acceptance and appreciation of the fact that sometimes life is hard, but it can always work out in some way or another. So that's on like a personal, weepy, self indulgent level.
ALSO, thank you, for putting up with my dumb ass, stumbling into your DMs covered in blood and flailing my arms like a whole dumbass just spilling all of my dumb thoughts about the best depiction of Jake I have ever read (it's true. this is Jake now, I will not be able to think of him as any different.) And thank you for being one of the best friends I've made during 2022, you brighten my day so much and I love that you still put up with me!
Unhinged thoughts below;
ALRIGHT, let's start this cry-fest off!
First of all... Marlee assuming Sugar knows about how Jake is doing, and her babbling on all happily whilst Sugar's heart is breaking? Honestly... Jail. Jail-time forever, Jakobi. I will always be just a little mad at him for that (of course I understand but the emotions, Coley!!!! The logic don't work for me when I have this storm of emotions!!!)
Same when Marlee calls again to let Sugar know that Jake's coming home. Honestly, would love to read this from Jake's point of view. He just gon' show up a random day and expect Sugar to not have a whole ass breakdown? Dumb boy. Very dumb.
Listen... I'm not sure I can go into detail about when he left. I'm like still in mourning. His soft eyes? Like:
The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower.
This shit is pure poetry. Like I can not find eloquent words to describe how much this moment ruined me? Knowing that he'd be going away. And also knowing from chapter two that this dumb ass stupid boy left her on read for a HALF YEAR.
And their avocado fight... It was like that last peaceful moment before all hell breaks loose. You read it, and your heart twinges with the knowledge that that's the last sweet and innocent moment before Jake makes a decision that he thinks will help him and Sugar, but will ultimately lead to so much hurt and anguish. It was beautiful, but fuck it hurt so much.
"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh.
Girl.... I--- he---... fuck. I am so... Like the words just run out, you know? When I'm so fucking in despair at how this sweet man thinks. Jesus. YOU AIN'T TAKIN'. SHE IS GIVING OKAY. FUCK.
"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly
STOP!! JAKE!! FUCKING STOP!!! this had my heart fucking racing, even though I knew (sort of) - that sounded so much like a farewell instead of a goodbye, this is probably when I started crying the first time.
"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.Â
"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.
"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me."Â
This... killed me. Like the desperation, the fucking raw desperation and emotions. It killed me. Like I sobbed okay, whole chest aching, ugly sobs. Maybe I should stop copy-pasting your story and commenting them, I'm gonna end up with like 50K worth of notes because I can only read a few lines before another kills me in the best way.
Jake helping Sugar with her shoes, Jake helping sugar with her shoes, Jake helping sugar with her shoes. That's all.
When Sugar 'made a mistake', gosh. That hit a little bit too close to home. I'm not entirely sure I can go into too much detail about the wood stripping, without it getting too much - but just know it was the sweetest thing, in the midst of anguish - it was very sweet and I loved it. And how he sort of reassured her by not making a big deal out of it. I cried. So attuned to her needs, I'm shaking.
---
If I were Sugar, I would probably stay in my room until the next year. I could never be as brave as her. Braver than any naval aviator.
When she bursts out because it all becomes too much, forgetting her shoes - I felt that. And I was so conflicted because on the one hand I wanted so badly for her to tell Jake to fuck off when he asked about her shoes, but the other part knows that she knows him better than anyone, and letting him do that gesture probably meant the world to him.
It did hurt me so much that Sugar locked herself up, that also sort of hit me close. It was so painful to see her build her guard up, even on the front porch, the first thing. I understand her, if you don't bring it up, that immense hurt can't really touch you. That like awful, emotional pain that takes form in physical pain and grief - it's all consuming and it hurts so so bad. I just wish she would've taken the leap and let herself feel that hurt that first day. But I understand why she didn't. God these notes aren't making sense and it's making me frustrated because I sort of need you to understand how much I loved this final part, and I feel like it might not be coming across, ugh. "2".
It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response.Â
You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked.
This is when Jake committed mass murder behind my back. Reading the reasoning later, I just... hate that I understand. Understand that it's all too much and that it doesn't feel right and that it's too soft or too hard and nothing makes sense what so ever and your insides just crawl with desperation and anguish and just that overwhelming feeling of being tired. Just tired.
And when he goes to her... like god, you two - you are already so in fucking love with each other. Like it's so... just right there that you are in love, and that they're it for one another. They might as well be married in the eyes of the universe and their souls recognition of the other as it's final puzzle piece.
Like I'm crying again. Oh god. That scene in the bed where they kiss, like it's just so much. Like I wish you could see the tears falling down my face as I'm typing this during my re-read. It hurts so much, that they're so soft and so made for each other and that they both love each other so so much, but they don't really understand how to show it in a way that the other might understand? I don't know, I'm just a mess.
And then he leaves again, and he is so selfish, because he forgets about Sugar needing him too. And needing to get a goodbye, and a check-in.
'It's no big deal' YES IT IS!!!
It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions.Â
Ouch. Ouch ouch ouch, I know that one. And it unfortunately makes me so upset with Jake, my own experiences probably colour my reading of this a little too much sometimes. Sugar's trying her best to anticipate what Jake wants and needs so much that she's tripping herself up, and sometimes that coping mechanism just doesn't work anymore. It's hard and difficult to even pinpoint, and it's amazing that you've described that feeling so well it made my throat close up.
I loved that Sugar had a moment of anger, a moment where she sort of lashes out - when the emotions she's bottled up because of her believing she needs to. Believing Jake needs her to, believes herself that it's for the best. But that lash felt like such a relief, and it's like she sort of shone for a moment - the PTSD and abuse not really winning that time? If that makes sense. She shines in her righteous feelings, and that small moment is like the most beautiful moments that Sugar has. She's so unapologetically herself for the first time in probably forever, and it's so *clenches fists* poetic that it's Jake that pulls it out of her by being a complete fucking ass. And he doesn't even know it, and she doesn't either!! That's recovery baby!! (even though at the time it might not seem like it) ugh, the relief I felt. Like seeing my past self and just wanting to cry.
And Jake calls her sweets again. I feel like that's the indication that he's not fully there yet. Like he's still a little lost. Either way, I might be off by a mile. But I agree with Sugar, it's not the same.
This next moment is so tender that I'm sure that this has to be one of the moments you thought that I would love? The recognition that Jake is so tired - and not just 'sleep' tired. He's neurodivergently tired. Overwhelmed, it's all just so much and nothing ever just stops. It's really beautiful the way you've captured it.
I hope Sugar chose lavender, it's my fave soothing shower scent, even though they're having a bath.
I love that they sort of stayed clothed, and that it was just about finding relaxation and reprieve just in that moment. Like just the touches, the scents and the re-acquainting them to how sweet the others touch is, how the mere prescence is the 'off-button'.
This whole scene is just perfection, the shaving is so intimate that I cried here too.
"Before me?"
This is such a... god, Coley, you just nailed that horrible realisation that perhaps your prescence in anothers life has made it all the more hard for them, even though you love them so much it hurts.
Mmmm, revoking Jake's honey-rights. Gorgeous. I love it. I love how much he loves it. Sweet summer child you deserve all of the love, the wooing, the sweet nicknames. Ugh. Dumb boy, I love you.
THE HEXAGON!!! UGH JAKE I LOVE YOU. IT IS A SUPERIOR SHAPE. YOU'RE SO RIGHT TELL ME MORE.
"... he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded."
Cat language. Love. He be lovin'. Sorry, I'm getting more unhinged. We're so close to key-smashes and gifs now, Coley.
"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him.Â
"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body.Â
Insert the "SOMEBODY SEDATE ME" gif here as I SCREAM FOR ALL ETERNITY. THEY--- AND HE!!!!!! HEEEEE!!!!!
The small three 'hi's'.... Coley, you already know I'm feral at this point. Like I'm fully losing my shit so hard. It's so soft. Like they might as well scream "I FUCKING LOVE YOU" so loud their vocal chords snap.
"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently.
INSERT EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SCREAM.JPG
His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands.Â
Soft, soft, soft, soft. I cry.
So, maybe it was finally time for you to take a jump, you had been waiting much longer than just since he had been home.
"Would you, Lieutenant Seresin, be amiable to me wooing you? Do you want that experience?" You find your fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt, while resting a little bit of your weight into your hold on his bicep.Â
THERE SHE IS AGAIN, AHHH!!!!! Like I want to scream for joy every time she pulls through, and even though you might not have meant it to be like that - but I love that every time she sort of takes charge and decides and just does because she feels like it is sooo huge. Like you're doing so good sweetheart!! You matter.
--
The whole date is beautiful, and I would give my life for a sweet museum date where the other person isn't pestering me to leave - but wants to stay longer than me - SWOOOON!!!
"How do you manage it, sugar?" He asks in a voice tinted with wonder.
To find your off button? Idk Jake maybe she's your fucking soulmate and just innately knows what you need, barely knowing it herself. God. POETRY!!!
--
His leaving again, totally necessary and so so good. I'm so glad Sugar didn't respond to him. And not to punish him, but sort of show him that if she goes along with his version of what's good for them - it doesn't always have the same emotional impact as he figures it will, like the logic and the emotions don't go hand in hand, and I think it was so important for Jake to experience that first hand.
-
I LOVE that she opens it in front of him. Again, there she is. I love her.
"Then tell me Jake. Explain it in detail and let me make that choice for myself. I know you want to take care of me and help ease some of these burdens, but that's not fair. I should get to choose. I get to choose you If that's what I want. So tell me, be plain and honest."Â
TELL HIM SUGARRRRRR!!!! YOU'RE DOING SO GOOD
He doesn't answer, and the numbness in you starts to seep in a little deeper to your bones.
Ah, yes. The ptsd/depression numbness. It's awful. That's an off-button I don't want anyone to find.
"I really really really missed you," Jake reiterates,
Jesus, man, was that so fucking hard? (still made my heart stutter).
Marlee and Javy. Loves of my life I feel so sorry for them - but I feel in my heart of hearts that Marlee got to keep her little bundle, and that Jake and Sugar got to be the best aunts and uncles ever after Marlee's put on bed rest and they go over there more often to help her and Javy, and play games more regularly. And it's so good for both couples.
-
THE GROCERY SCENE. Hate grocery stores. I am Sugar. Wish I had a Jake. <3
Jakes declaration of love really had a bitch snot sobbing, and I'm tearing up again. It really feels Mr. Darcy-esque, or perhaps more of "If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more"
Like this was absolutely perfect. Sugar's denial, Jakes insistance - and the repeating of the words once he's opened the flood-gates. God my chest aches at the mere though of his elated face as he is able to say it and let the emotions just flow over Sugar, whispering the words into her skin as many times as it takes for her to wholly understand (spoiler alert, it takes a while but Jake doesn't mind saying it all day every day)
"You told me I didn't make you feel safe, and I realized I had to let go of this fantasy I had of us being together. You know, as bad as it sounds, I would never let you be with someone who didn't make you feel entirely safe, including myself."Â
You already knew this destroyed me. But I'll tell you again; this destroyed me so wholly. Sweet, sweet man... I love you. You're the safest man I've ever read (except maybe Bob... Don't tell Jake.)
"I stayed up that whole night." he trails off, avoiding your gaze. "I rethought every moment between us. Tried to figure out what I could have done to make you feel that way." Jake laughs wryly. You feel your heart clench tight at his words.Â
I had the exact same reaction, heart clenching, chest aching - oh god, he must've spent so long agonizing over it. I'm fucking DYING.
"God, I love you. Can I kiss you?"Â
Coley. I swear to any deity, I fucking passed away. I have ascended. It was nice knowing you.
"Prayin', beggin', longin', dreamin', hopin', and every other synonym," Jake answers in between kisses. Â
JAKE YOU AND I BOTH!!! GOD I'M SUCH A MESS!!
In conclusion, this is... beyond any of my wildest imaginations. Unfortunately for you, I can't get enough of these two. I want to know how they got married, I wanna know how they're fun uncle Jake, and how Marlee and Javy's kids genuinely think Sugar's name is Sugar, and you both just go with it until one day they're like 13 and someone calls you by your actual name and they're like "??? who the fuck is that. isn't your given name Sugar?" (happened to me with my aunt, thought her given name was her whacko nickname - as if my grandma would stray from super traditional names to that)
And last, thank you, from the bottom of my heart for giving them this incredibly sweet and happy ending. I know you had a rough time writing it, and it means the world to me that you put so much time, effort and stress to get this done. I'm so immensely proud of you, this is truly your magnum opus and I can't find the words to tell you how much I loved every single minute of reading and talking to you about them<3
Good Comes In 3
House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3
Summary:Â You and Jake navigate what it means to spend six months apart. Then, when he does come home, you two have to evaluate precisely what feelings you have for each other and also what a future together could mean. You just aren't sure he will ever forgive you for starting a puzzle without him.Â
Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC
Word count: 34K
AO3 Link
Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Abuse (Implied), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, Rejection, Drinking, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, Fertility problems, miscarriage (discussed), menstruation (discussed and lightly described), close female friendships, Depressive episodes, PTSD, roommates to lovers, love confessions, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.
An: Unfortunately this last part was too long to post altogether here on Tumblr. So I have included the first half here, the rest can be read on AO3 though. I apologize for the inconvenience.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you all for loving this version of Jake. There were so many things I wanted to include and finish off for these two. While I couldn't include everything, I hope you enjoy what I did.
Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.
"Jake looked tired. Has he told you how he's been sleeping?" Marlee asks you curiously while chatting with you on the phone. The question causes your stomach to roll in a deep dive, and it takes you a moment to find the composure to respond.Â
"No, I haven't heard," you manage to tell her. Setting down the piece of fruit you had been about to eat, you lean back against the kitchen counter.Â
"Ah, well, will you ask him about it whenever you next talk? He wouldn't answer Javy or me about it when we asked."
"You and Javy are joined at the hip, practically the same person sometimes. Do you find that shocking?" You ask Marlee teasingly. Marlee chuckles at your comment. Her smile betrays her true feelings, though she likes how in sync she and Javy are generally considered.Â
"We are sometimes." Marlee concedes but then says frankly, "But even when Javy had his individual call with Jake, he wouldn't say. And you are the only other person I can imagine him opening up to,"Â
"I'll mention it next time I talk to him," you manage to say. It would just be one of the many things that you were supposed to be talking to Jake about on his deployment. It was easier to go along with their assumption than to flay your chest open and let the hurt you felt pour out.Â
Sometimes it's better, easier, to keep the kind of pain you felt to yourself. Bundled close and protected. To expose it would just make it hurt all the more. The idea of anyone, especially your closest friends, knowing you weren't important enough, or you had scared Jake away, or made some other mishap was mortifying. How could you go about explaining what had transpired? You weren't sure you could explain it. Also, Javy and Marlee had plenty of other things and people to worry about without having to add you higher on their list than you were already placed. You felt bad each week when one of them called you to check in begging, sometimes demanding that you hang out with them.Â
"Okay, I'll talk to you later then, babes. I love you!"
"I love you too, Marlee," you say, giving her the sweetest, kindest tone you can muster up. You end the call and walk over to the chalkboard in the kitchen.Â
Jake normally would draw seasonal decorations on it, but you had cleared it to be blank for notes months ago. The only thing on the board is a list you had titled: things to talk to Jake about. You add 'sleeping habits' to the bottom and frown. Reading through the list makes tears prick at the back of your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. You hold the eraser poised for a moment, ready to trash the entire list, but you don't manage to follow through and drop the eraser, letting it fall to the ground.Â
You walk through the house, checking the locks and turning off the lights. The sadness and frustration you feel in you is still bubbling as you pass where Jake had unceremoniously left the large Juniper chest. You glare at it just like you do every night.Â
The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower. While he was occupied you stole one of his large Navy shirts that had been washed so many times it was soft. You are reluctant to leave his room, but make your way to the kitchen starting some breakfast and Jake's morning tea. You were just adding the dollop of honey he likes when he came downstairs, fully dressed and ready to leave you.Â
Jake thanked you sweetly, with a kiss pressed to your cheek. In the same breath he tried to steal the whisk out of your hand. You danced out of way holding the whisk out like a sword to ward him off. He had quickly grabbed the masher from the utensil jar and brandished it in response. Amusement filling his features. After a small chase around the kitchen which included a small clash of utensils, Jake got his way. You loved the way Jake's eyes crinkled and how charming his dimples and smile lines were. It was a look you almost always got anytime you let him do things for you. Jake had still let you help though, asking you to toast the sourdough bread, while he whipped the avocado, goat cheese, and honey together. Once it was the constituency he liked, Jake spread it on the toast sprinkling some sea salt on top. He made one for you as well, but you had already started cooking three eggs for him, and didn't really have an appetite. After Jake ate, you spent every minute waiting for Coyote to arrive for pick up wrapped tightly in Jake's arms. Â
"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said.Â
"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites.Â
"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again.Â
"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together.Â
"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh. The tip of Jake's nose had dragged softly across your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to the center. He lingered there, breathing you in.
"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly.Â
Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tried to pull him as close and tight to you as possible again. Jake allowed you to hug him, but he didn't relax into the embrace like he normally would have. He was almost stiff in your hold, but one of his hands traced slowly over your back in a soothing motion. When Coyote's headlights had inevitably shown through the frosted window on the door, Jake carefully detangled himself from your arms. He lingered though practically trembling.Â
"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.Â
"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.
"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me."Â
"If you be safe," you had compromised, wanting to savor every second ticking by that you would never get back. This last time you would be in the same space sharing the same air, for an undetermined amount of time. With a resolve you knew you didn't possess, Jake mouthed the words goodbye he was so close that his lips brushed yours as he did so. With a shaky inhale, Jake stepped away from you. His first two steps hadn't hurt so much, but the third as he exited the front door took all the air with him, including the bit trapped in your lungs. It was a sense of instant emptiness you had never experienced before. Everything you wanted to do seemed impossible when you couldn't even breathe. So there was no running after him for one more stolen moment, no collapsing against the floor, sobbing until your throat was raw, no more reassuring green eyes you could look to for comfort.Â
The hollow feeling that nestled into you was hard to find your balance with. You had thrown the lock on the door and stumbled through the house, ready to retreat back into Jake's bed. Well aware his scent would be gone sooner rather than later, you were determined to imprint as much of it to memory as possible. You are blindsided by pain shooting up your foot as you unexpectedly stubbed your toe. Cursing and looking down you realized there was now a new piece of furniture. Jake had left a hand made juniper chest Jake left sitting in the area between the living room and dining room. On top was a small note card with a watercolor of two very detailed puzzle pieces.Â
You stare so hard at the water colored pieces trying to parse their meaning the focus of your visions started to blur. The rapid blink forced tears to lubricate the area. However, when there is one tear there are others quick to follow. Just as a tear had splashed against the edge of the card you recognized the duplicates of the last two pieces you and Jake had double tapped into your last puzzle. On the back of the card stock was the drawn design of the chest, with all of Jake's neat measurements noted. You traced over his neat handwriting, and you were quick to quell your disappointment not finding more. That confusion and disappointment was impossible to ignore when you had gone to see what was inside and it was locked, the latch refusing to open.Â
Now, after 6 and Âœ months of radio silence, the chest taunted you. His entire deployment, there hadn't been a single word to you. Your only source of information was occasionally hearing from Coyote and Marlee about how Hangman was doing. And there was the memory of him, a large empty house, and a locked chest that was too heavy for you to move.Â
You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you â this small abuse of the furniture while pacing before bed was a small soothing habit that helped you work some of your worries out. Once the feeling of missing Jake had settled into a dull, steady pain there was room for anger. You were furious and the only thing you had to take it out on was this beautiful work of craftsmanship. Unshockingly, the chest had been well made â because why would Jake make something that was easy to take your anger out on. He couldn't even give you that small concession. Even though you aren't as angry anymore, kicking the chest has become a part of your nightly routine.Â
The chest didn't just bother you because it was locked or a surprise gift you hadn't asked for. It also bothered you because of what it was made from. The juniper wood Jake used didn't match the boards he used for the puzzle table, which was a more common light juniper. The boards for the chest were such a deep red it looked purple. Jake made it from one of the logs that you had helped him strip. Seeing the chest felt like a reopening weeping sore; one bleeding from a formally treasured memory that was nestled close to your heart.Â
âŠ
Saturday mornings were always a wild card with Jake.It was the one day of the week you could never be 100% sure what his plans were. There were staples you could expect like his morning run, but after that who knew? Sometimes he would have plans to see his friends, other times he had a project, list of chores, plans with his "little brother", manuals to read or some other all day activity. He liked it to be all day. So Sometimes you liked to just lounge in the living room waiting to see what he was going to do before making any plans of your own.Â
 "Hey, I'm going on a drive and run some errands. Anything you want me to pick up?" Jake says to you when he comes down the stairs one Saturday morning.Â
"Oh, can I come with?"Â
"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you.Â
"No, it won't," You protest, standing up and stretching. "I'd rather be with you. As long as you don't mind me tagging along?"
"Yeah, of course, sugar. I never mind when you tag along." Jake says with a wide smile.Â
"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"
"I'm going to meet an old friend."Â
"Oh my god. Please be less ominous Jake"
"What would you like to hear, sugar?"
"Who exactly are we meeting?"
"We are meeting up with my friend, Jess."Â
"And?"Â Â
"And, and, and," Jake says, twirling his hand around the air before dramatically pointing to his watch. "We are already 4 minutes behind our schedule. I'll tell you right now that this is cutting into our farmers market time."Â
"Farmer's Market is on the list?"Â
"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his âduh-voiceâ that you actually hate, but also you love because it reminds you how easy this is supposed to be. How it's not supposed to be a second thought. The things you like are included and planned for without you having to ask.
You are scrambling up the stairs to get ready when Jake calls after you. "You don't actually have to rush!! I'll make up time on the road."
"You know I don't support your excessive speeding Jake!" you call back, grabbing what you thought you would need.Â
"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad.Â
"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items.Â
"Do you want car snacks? I packed some, and we can always stop to pick something else up." Jake asks you glancing up from his paper.Â
"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck."Â
Jake just shrugs and opens the door to the garage for you. "It's not a big deal, I'll add the car wash to my list for tomorrow."Â
"I also got your truck slippers so you don't have to wear your boots for the drive," Jake tells you. It's so sweet you want to grab him in a tight hug. You squeeze your hands tight instead, waiting for the urge to pass. Jake helps you up into the passenger side of the truck. Just as he said, the soft fuzzy blanket you like, and the slippers Jake got you are laid out waiting. Jake helps you out of your boots and into the slippers, setting them in the back seat for later. Once you are fully settled and buckled, Jake closes your door. He checks that the garage door is locked before jumping in the truck himself.Â
"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors.Â
"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains.Â
"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it. Â
"I literally fly ten times as fast as car speeds. Well, more like 9.9 but still when you round up. It's ten." Jake responds,Â
"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes.Â
"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues.Â
"That's fine, and I am not invalidating that. However, you know just as well as I do, that everyone else doesn't have that same ability."
"You are so sassy!" Jake teases, clearly deciding to let the faux argument go.Â
"I'm the sassy one? Sure," you say sarcastically, drawing out the word. However, you also decide to let it go. Instead you enjoy the start to your drive, getting music going and adjusting the temperature controls until they are just right.Â
"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"
"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug.Â
"Really? Nothing is the justification to wear the work boots you got me?"
"You can't live with a bit of mystery, can you?" Jake asks, but there is affection laid into his words.Â
"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."Â Â
"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused. Â
"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him.Â
"I'll admit it. You got me figured out. What gave it away?" Jake asks jokingly but not as quiet as bright as before. You shoot him a look, but his smile is still firmly in place.Â
"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly.Â
"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."Â Â
"It's the fact that you refuse to grow facial hair. I'm convinced that it's because you want to save that for a disguise." You say, almost giggling trying to picture Jake with a beard or mustache. You expect Jake to laugh too, but he doesn't. After a slightly too long pause, he forces out a strangled laugh, and you realize that you've misstepped somehow.Â
"Talk about it or leave it?" You offer trying to sound natural and keeping the pushiness you felt gnawing on you out of your voice. Jake takes a deep measured breath, exhaling out slowly through his nose. He drums a staccato on the steering wheel before responding.Â
"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests.Â
"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify.Â
"Both, please."Â
"Can do."Â
"Thank you," Jake breathes quietly. Then he offers his right hand to you across the center console. You only wait a moment before slipping your fingers to slot in with his. He squeezes your hand affectionately and you both seem to take a deep breath to try and ease some of the uncomfortable tension. Jake's thumb tracing softly against your skin. Â
"I'll tell you if you really want to know," Jake says a few miles later while his eyes stay trained on the road. You think about whether you really want to press him for details. As much as you want to know, you don't want to ever force Jake into sharing something with you if he isn't completely comfortable with it.Â
"Nope, it's fine. Keep your mysteries, Hangman, I'll find out eventually." You finally respond, pulling Jake's hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making sure he understood your innocent intentions. He chuckles good naturedly and his hand flexes at the movement, tightening its grasp on yours when you set them on the middle console again. Â
"That's good. I appreciate you."Â
"I appreciate you more," you tell him sweetly, though you mean it very genuinely. Jake pulls his eyes from the road to flash a heavy frown of disapproval your way.Â
"I don't think that's possible," Jake says with passion.
 You just shrug, letting the conversation drift to the next topic, just enjoying the drive with Jake. It is a while before Jake pulls off onto a private road that leads up to a massive barn, and you still don't really have any clue where you are or why. Jake throws the gear into park, the truck in park and shoots you an almost gleeful smile.Â
"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again.Â
"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here."Â
"Do I have to stay?" You ask him nervously, checking the mirrors on either side of you. You know once Jake leaves the truck and into the barn you won't be able to see him anymore. The idea of being alone here, somewhere you don't know, even in the truck makes you uncomfortable.Â
"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says.Â
"It's okay," you tell him reassuringly. "That's why you had me bring my boots, right?"
"Yes, but you just look snug as a bug. I didn't want to make you move," Jake replies.Â
"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend."Â
A moment later Jake is opening your side of the truck and helping you into your boots, tying up the laces for you and ignoring your protests that you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself. Jake helps you out of the truck and holds your hand, helping you walk over the uneven ground carefully. You can smell it before you see it. The fresh woodsy scent permeates the air so heavily that you can nearly taste it.Â
Subverting your expectations, Jake does not lead you to the large frame equipment sliding doors of the barn. Instead, he leads you around the nearest side where there is a small typical sized door. Opening the door, Jake reveals a huge workshop. Half of the large barn space is filled with massive logs, planks, boards, and other cuts of wood. The other half is full of various projects, a giant tool bench, and shelving making up an impressive workspace.Â
"Oh wow," you breathe taking it all in. You look at Jake and he is positively gleeful, maybe even more excited than a kid in a candy shop. His grin is wide, looking around and leading you a bit further into the workspace. A soft Jingle plays in the air, penetrating the otherwise quiet atmosphere when Jake closes the door behind you.Â
"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.
"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully.Â
"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing."Â
You almost let go of Jake's hand in alarm, but he gives you a squeeze reassuring you. He leads you a little further into the warehouse, and a middle aged woman comes in through one of the open doors.Â
Jake lets go of your hand to give her a warm hug. She hugs Jake back lightly before pushing him away with a playful shove.
 "It's good to see you too, Jess," Jake grumbles, dodging out of the way of her playful punch.Â
 "Hi, I'm Jess. It's nice to meet you." She says turning to you and offers you a warm smile
You introduce yourself a bit shyly, but feel more confident when Jake's hand slips back into yours.Â
"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake.Â
"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains.Â
"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him.Â
Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond.Â
"Well, even if he is annoying, you've found yourself a good man," Jess says. You wait for Jake to correct her. When he doesn't you start to do so yourself but Jess has already changed the subject and started walking to the other side of the warehouse with a gesture for you to follow.Â
"So, I got them fresh this week. And just like you requested, I'm letting you have the first freshcut pick, even before me." Jess explains to him.Â
"I knew you loved me," Jake gasps grinning wide. Jess huffs out a breath at Jake but doesn't deny Jake's accusation which just makes Jake grin wider. Y'all walk to a pile of grey logs stacked close to the large barn doors.
They start a conversation that completely goes over your head, something about soil conditions, chain lengths, altitude, sap, and other details you didn't know impacted wood. You take this opportunity to look around the shop, and appreciate all the different types of wood and tools. You have only slightly lost focus when you suddenly realize Jake has said your name and is looking at you expectantly. He quickly picks up that you missed the question though, so he repeats it gently.Â
"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea."Â
"Oh, I just pick one?" You ask looking at all the logs. Besides the fact they were different widths they all looked pretty much the same to you.Â
"Yes, Ma'am," Jake confirms. He leads you to the ends of the cuts and starts talking about grains, and the potential knots and twists that would be in the wood when you cut into it. Jess leaves y'all to decide, saying she'll go grab her forklift to make getting the selections into Jake's truck easier. Jess declines Jake's offer to drive with a snipe about how he isn't forklift certified. Jake's muttered comeback about how he could be forklift certified if he wanted makes you roar in laughter.Â
You eventually pick a trunk that overall doesn't look too special, but Jake said it looked like it would be easier to work with because of how sticky the sap was. Jake makes two other selections and also insists on helping Jess get the wood into his truck.Â
Jess invited you to an early lunch where you met her wife Paula. Paula had clearly been prepared to host and spent the whole meal fawning over Jake. While Jess might deny treating him like a son, Paula certainly leans into it, and you can tell Jake doesn't mind from the glowing smile that stays on his face the whole time you're at their home. Â
As promised Jake had planned time to stop at the farmers market, and an outlet mall, that included a target, where two do some light shopping. Finally picking up Jake's drycleaning on your way home. It's a fun day, and you were thankful you had decided to tag along.
"So Jake, are these for what I think?" You ask him excitedly when you have finally made it home and he is pulling the logs into the garage.Â
"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper."Â
You stare at the grey logs of wood with their mossy, splintering bark that has already made a mess in the garage. Examining the wood you try to compare it with the Juniper you have seen in the past.
"I didn't think it was that color," you tell Jake scrunching your eyebrows together in contemplation.Â
"Well, the wood isn't actually grey, just the bark," Jake explains. You watch as he pulls two pairs of work gloves from the workbench. He jerks the larger pair on, you realize with adoration that he had gotten a pair in your size. Jake doesn't hand the gloves to you, rather just leaves them out as an offering if you are interested in participating. The casual no pressure offering makes your chest warm and stomach flutter. Biting your lip you try to contain the grin threatening to split your face before joining him at the workbench and sliding the gloves on.Â
Grabbing two chisels, he throws one on his belt. Then he picks up alo with two hammers, hanging both those on his toolbelt as well. You start to get distracted by the way Jake's tool belt sits on his slim hips.Â
"Yes. Jess managed to expedite it for us in a special order. I'm so excited. You see, in the spring the sap warms up and it runs through the tree so it allows us to do this â" Jake explains to you. He angles the chisel into the bark, working it in. With a controlled hit from the hammer the flat head sinks in a little bit deeper. Wiggling the chisel makes the bark displace, allowing Jake to grab it and pull it downwards. A long section of the bark comes off before splintering and breaking off the log. The action reveals the light colored, bright, 'green' (fresh) wood underneath.Â
"I can tell you've never experienced stripping before," Jake says cheekily while wiggling his eyebrows at you. You feel a bit amazed at the beautiful gem that's been revealed to you.Â
"What?" you gasp. Â
"Stripping is what this process is called," Jake answers while letting out a full bellied laugh, going so far as slapping his own leg. You roll your eyes at him but can't help your smile and excitement on joining in.Â
"Some people strip wood with a power washer, but I think that's lazy. On top of the laziness, it prematurely ages and strips the wood of its natural oils, color, and saps! If we take our time though, we can get a longer lasting, vibrant cut. It's a lot of work, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run."Â
Jake takes his chisel and edges it under the bark again. When he pulls the long grey strip of bark gives way with a crunch that sizzles against your ears. Jake continues to slowly peel more away to reveal the fresh color underneath, not pressuring you to join the process at any point.Â
However when you do ask to help Jake is patient going over the process with you, explaining the best angle to keep the chisel. He provides steady guidance, only leaving you alone in the process when you tell him that you have a handle on what you're doing.Â
You help Hangman strip one of the logs and just as he had said, it is a slow process. It is however extremely satisfying and lots of fun. He puts on a podcast after consulting you to find one you would both enjoy. At one point you accidentally dig your chisel too far under the bark and feel it sink slightly into the 'green' sap softened wood. Your heart drops, and when you peel it back you see that it has pulled a chunk of wood, leaving a gouge in the trunk. You freeze, noticing the damage of the mistake, pulling your eyes to where Jake is working. Just as you start to wonder if there could be a way to fix or hide your mistake, Jake looks over at you with a wide smile that crinkles around his eyes.
"Oh wow," he gasps, the smile falling. Anxiety claws at your throat, and you instinctively prepare yourself for something bad to happen, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. Jake's hand gently pushes yours out of the way and dips over the gouge pushing away some of the sap that was springing from the area. Jake clicks his tongue before saying. "Look at this, sugar"Â
"I know andâ" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you.Â
"I've seen this color juniper, at least not in person" Jake tells you breathily. You are momentarily surprised that his words do not contain any anger, veiled insults, or condescending tones. Then you remember that this is Jake, so of course you're not going to 'be in trouble'. It takes your eyes a moment to drop down to the thick trunk again. Where you had damaged the wood, it revealed a bright purple streak under the top grain.Â
"It's purple," you say, eyes widening.Â
"It does look purple does it?" Jake asks excitedly. "That means at the very least that vein will look like that through the trunk. If not all the pigmentation in the grain."Â
"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask.Â
"Sometimes red but not purple. This one was a real treasure find, sugarpie" Jake answers. His grin was so wide you were a little worried about his face. However, before you know it, he is sweeping you in his arms and rocking you playfully while saying, "We are going to have to do something really special with this one."Â Â
"Puzzle table," You say as if that was the most obvious answer. That was the whole reason he had gotten all these logs of juniper, after all.Â
"Yeah, maybe for the puzzle table," Jake says noncommittally, though as he hums you can tell that won't be the case. He kisses your forehead and mutters a thank you.
Jake gives you another thank you, a little while later, once you two have started to work again. "We wouldn't have known about the color until I went to cut planks and then there would have been a lot less I could do to preserve the color."Â
"I made a mistake, Jake."
"Not all mistakes are bad," he says kindly. "Sometimes they are just something that's meant to happen. They have to happen for us to learn something."Â
"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back.Â
"I make mistakes, but unfortunately, like everything I do, it's to the max. Either the best or the worst," he trails off with a shrug.Â
"Because you refuse to be middling?" You ask him teasingly. You aren't surprised when his sharp elbow playfully taps into your arm, and if you bruise later-- it will be worth it. Â
"We never should have read and watched Little Women," Jake grumbles. However, his open and light body language make it very clear to you he is being playful. You traced the shape of his dimples with your eyes enjoying the ease they brought to you. They seemed like the perfect place to rest your thumbs on his cheeks. It's nice how Jake comes with a built in guidance system. From his dimples, to the smile lines that will age nicely into kind crows feet all pointing to the freckle-mole by his right eye. You had already mapped out every place you wanted to kiss, given the opportunity.Â
"You loved them both," you remind Jake.Â
"Of course I did. It is a heart warming, stunning story. But you don't always have to make fun of how I teared up a little bit." Jake tells you, adopting a frown. Teared up was a bit of a down play on what had happened but you didn't call Jake out on that part. It wasn't a bad thing for men to get emotional and cry.Â
"I only tease because you were upset about it for the entire next day. Which honestly was so sweet."
"It's not sweet, Sugar." Jake groans.Â
"Jake, let's not do this dance," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him and turning back to your work on the trunk. You are much more careful now in how you place the chisel under the bark. In the middle of stripping off the next piece the podcast shuts off and some slow country music replaces it.Â
"Now, Sugar," Jake says in an extra thick southern accent that makes you narrow your eyes. He eases in close to you and pulls the chisel out of your hand sliding it in his tool belt. Unbuckling it Jake sets it on the bench. Coming back to your side he takes your hand, delicately. Jake pulls your work gloves from each finger. Intentional and steady, the pads of his fingers brush against your revealed skin. He tosses the gloves to the side as well, and with your now free hands pulls you closer to him, towards the open space in the middle of the garage.Â
"What dance exactly don't you want to do?" Jake asks you, starting to sway to the music and encouraging you to join him in the simple steps. Once you do he gleefully spins you in time with the music and draws you back even closer to his chest after.Â
Blowing out a sigh you melt into his embrace. Dancing with Jake was different than any other man; he was confident and incharge, firm enough with his hold that there wasn't any space for you to really fall out of step with him, but he left enough room so you didn't feel like he was forcefully dragging you through the steps. He was good about taking the worry of thinking about the steps away from you, allowing you to just enjoy the movement and how his broad body felt pressed so close.Â
"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise."Â
"Ouch," Jake says. You lean back further resisting the hold he has in moving you. Jake doesn't allow the movement though, continuing to step dance to the music guiding you with him.Â
"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad.Â
"No, no. I might have deserved that one," Jake answers, as the song wraps up, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't let go of you though, just adjusts his steps, leads his steps into the next one.Â
"Let's find a different dance you do like," he says after a bit, shuffling you in his arms. "For example, we know you love the Texas two step."
"Do I?" You ask him with a laugh.Â
"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?"Â
Jake turns you around the open space in the garage, going through dances he knows until you are both laughing. When he suggests cooking dinner and watching Dancing with the Stars for some new ideas you readily and happily agree, especially when he reminds you the logs will still be there tomorrow, and there is no real need to rush since you have at least a week until the sap is too dry to easily strip anymore.
âŠ
"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion."Â
"Well, she might if I'm pregnant," Marlee responds in a small voice that doesn't match her typical outgoing demeanor. You almost drop your phone but manage to keep your grip tight.Â
"Marlene Machado⊠First of all, that would be illegal, and we would file a report with HR. And secondly, is there something you are wanting to tell me?"
"No!" Marlee says, "I don't know what you're talking about, me pregnant?! That's crazy talk. Maybe you're the one who's pregnant."Â
"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone.Â
"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet."Â
"That's okay, Marls. It's only been a few months of this new medicine."
"Yeah, well um I guess that leads to my next problem."
"What's that?"
"What are your plans for Saturday?"
"I don't have any plans." You say running through your mental calendar to check.Â
"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking."Â
"So Javy is involved?" You clarify.Â
"What? Of course, he is!" Marlee says sounding affronted at even the concept of not including her husband, which makes you almost smile for real.Â
"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh.Â
"We'll pick you up. Then we'll carpool to the airport. Don't worry I already made signs. Then we want to take y'all to Olive Garden."
You distantly hear Javy yelling, "When we are there, we are family."
Marlee takes a moment to giggle, "I'll make sure you and Jake drink a bottle of wine. Preferably one each. Trust me, nothing helps with the âwe haven't seen each other in six monthsâ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!"Â
You aren't successful in catching your phone this time and it slams to the ground. You're frozen staring down at it, only managing to shake yourself and pick it up when you hear Marlee saying your name in concern.Â
"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?"Â
"Oh no, is it okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine," you answer the pit in your stomach growing till it feels like it might swallow you whole.Â
"You don't need help with anything for tomorrow do you?" Marlee asks worriedly. You take a glance around the house. You had worked hard keeping things orderly and together while Jake had been gone. You knew how worried he was that things would change while he was away. It hadn't been easy and there were a few weeks there when you hadn't been able to keep yourself afloat very well.Â
"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard.Â
"Any cleaning or organizing or any of that. Groceries so you and Jake don't have to go shop. Javy hates going to the store when he comes home. I guess there is something especially frustrating about them," Marlee trails off. You can tell that she is picking up on your off mood, and of course she was. She probably expected you to be ecstatic that Jake was coming home, and maybe you would have been if you had known about it.Â
You realize there isn't a way out of this so you have to concede a truth to her. You bite your lip and let your eyes frantically comb over the house again before finally whispering. "He hasn't said anything to me⊠about coming home."Â
When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?"Â
"Not a word," you respond solemnly.Â
"I'm sorry for ruining the surprise."
"I'm glad you did. I'll definitely want to clean and shop like you mentioned. And as nice as your plan sounded, maybe not this time. You two are the sweetest ever."
"I still feel bad. Are you sure you don't need help with anything?"
"I'm fine, thank you, Marlee!" You were not fine.
"Wait, babes, I'm worried."
"Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, yeah? I love you!" You hang up the phone and stare at it blankly. Trying to process the new information you had just gotten. Looking around the house you realized you weren't even close to ready for Jake to come home. Â
You spend all of your free time panicking, cleaning and organizing the house, trying to make sure everything was just perfect for when Jake comes home. You almost had a breakdown when you couldn't remember if the quilt on his bed had been green or dark blue when he left.. The smallest details were haunting you. You had spent nearly an hour working up the courage to erase the chalkboard in the kitchen. Worried that you would forget some of the more important reminders, you erase everything but what you deemed Jake needed to know, like things that had come up concerning the house. It leaves a choppy, oddly spaced list, but you don't think you will have the energy to rewrite it without crying.Â
You were asleep when Jake came home. Waking up to sounds that are familiar and yet gone enough that they don't sound right, confuses your tired mind before you are startled into wakefulness, fully placing that for the first time in 6 months someone else is cooking in your kitchen. Your alarm is slightly eased when you check your phone and see a text from Marlee.Â
We're here with a gift, come down stairs as soon as you wake up <3
 While you were put at ease knowing some manic axe murderer isn't in your house, you almost feel like you would prefer that to what you now know is waiting for you downstairs. You sit in your room for nearly an hour trying to work out what to do, if you should confront Jake and how to approach it, hoping inspiration or bravery will strike you into moving. It never does though, and instead there is a heavy handed knock on your bedroom door.Â
Taking a big gulp, not having the strength to find your voice, you slowly creak the door open. You lift your eyes up and unexpectedly find Javy on the other side of the door.Â
"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Javy says cheerfully. It takes you a few deep breaths to answer from your surprise. You don't know what the look on your face is, but the next thing you know, Javy is sweeping you up into a tight hug. You are frozen though, still strung out on what this must mean, that Jake is home.Â
"Is he?" You start to ask, but not sure how you actually want to finish the sentence: home, safe, okay, the same. Javy doesn't respond, he just squeezes you harder. You try asking your question again to get an answer. "Is Jake?"Â
"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms.Â
"I thought it was going to be this evening."
"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute."Â
"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either.Â
"He will be okay," Javy says lightly. Â
"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt.Â
"It'll all take us some time to readjust and recalibrate. Just don't push him, and more importantly yourself too hard. Okay?" Javy says pulling away from the hug after another squeeze. You nod numbly, not entirely sure you know what he means but it is comforting to know your friend is here.Â
When you don't make a move to follow Javy towards the door when he starts to retreat he levels you with a concerned look.Â
"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door.Â
You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jakeâ how can you love someone who willfully hasn't talked to you in 6 months? The words don't come out though, because in spite of it all, you do love him. You love him so much it hurts, and you made that choice even as Jake actively warned you against it. Javy waits patiently for you to respond, which just makes you feel like squirming more.Â
"I do not see what that has to do with anything," you try to deflect but Coyote frowns at you and shakes his head.
"It's because he makes you feel better than a million bucks right?" Javy presses on with the question.
"Yeah, sometimes." You concede thinking of how it was before Jake left.Â
"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?"Â
"Don't know if I love Jake because of that. I think those are just side benefits. I love Jake just by virtue of him being Jake." You say trying to explain how you feel and Javy nods along to your words.Â
"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this.Â
"It's going to be okay. Marlee and I are here to play interference as long as you two need it. Remembering those things you love about him will help get through the rough patch. He is really worried about doing something wrong."
"What do you mean wrong?"Â
"I would say he is worried about hurting you." And you had to resist the urge to laugh, because it was already much too late for that. Jake had been hurting you for months now.
"Has something gone wrong before, or is he just scared?"
Javy doesn't answer your question and he avoids your gaze and stares hard at a far wall. "Hangman and I aren't always stationed together."Â
"Oh, I see."
"You're going to have to give him some grace and time; he will even out, I promise. If it gets too bad you can always call me, okay?" Javy's eyes meet yours again, and he gives you a sad smile. "I love Jake too, you know."
"Yeah, I know you do." You reassure him. "Thanks Coyote, you are a good friend to him, and me too."Â
Javy is then urging you to finally leave your room, opening the door and gesturing for you to step out. He is asking you to be brave, and it's a lot easier to face your fears when you know someone else is there to help, just in case.Â
"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open. Â
"I am once again begging Javy to run away with me." You yell back to her playfully. Giving Javy one last tight hug and a muttered thank you, he strides confidently down the stairs. Anxiety and nerves eat away at your every step leaving a sour taste on your tongue. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, as you descend the stairs, still not ready to actually see Jake.Â
Instead you keep your eyes trailed on Javy where he has automatically drifted to his wife's side and is already wrapping himself around her and kissing her cheek.Â
"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke.Â
"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh.Â
"I wasn't worried," she tells him. "I know there's only one person you would leave me for."
"I would never leave you," Javy responds, dropping the playfulness from his voice. However, Marlee persists.Â
"That's not true, we both know if Jake asked, you wouldn't even hesitate." The couple both turn their eyes towards the kitchen, which you realize is where Jake must be. You are frozen on the last step of the stairs, unable to take your eyes off Marlee and Javy, even as they expectantly look back and forth between where you are standing and where he is.Â
You decide you aren't brave enough, that you can't actually do this. You need to retreat up the stairs into your room and pack all of your things in order to get out of here as soon as possible. Jake was back now, all the responsibility you had to watch and take care of the house was released from your shoulders. Never facing him again seems like the obvious solution, you don't know why you had never considered it before.Â
"I wouldn't ever ask Javy to run away with me, he snores too much," Jake says. His voice tricks your eyes into looking towards the kitchen. Thinking about Jake Seresin and seeing him are two distinctly different things. He is handsome, Jake always has been handsome, but after so long of not seeing him, it's glaring, breathtaking.Â
You think you had expected him to change, which doesn't really make sense. Half a year, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't very long. You think maybe his uniform fits him a bit more snugly, that he looks even more fit than before. You weren't prepared⊠you weren't prepared at all. And now you are stuck because he is looking back at you. Jake blinks at you, and you stare wide eyed, too afraid if your eyes close for even a second he will be gone.Â
"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says.Â
"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you."Â
Jake flashes you one of his perfect practiced smiles and a wink. Then he gestures to the bowls and pans in front of him, "I'm making french toast."Â
You wait a second, having to choke back a sob threatening to bubble in your chest. Then say, "I'm sure that will be good."Â
Javy and Marlee's analyzing the two of you makes the awkwardness press in harder. Gulping, you try to seem casual about walking towards the kitchen. Jake watches you intently. At the last minute you change your mind and veer down the hallway towards the front door instead.Â
"Sorry, I just have some errands I need to run," You announce loudly, quickening your step. Fumbling with the locks you burst out the front door, and stand heaving on the front porch. Gripping the railing hard, you lean against it trying to brace yourself.Â
A minute later you hear the door open, and you close your eyes tight, wishing you had been smart enough to walk further away. There is a slight clunk against the ground and you see a pair of your shoes next to your feet.Â
"Thought you might need shoes," Jake says quietly. Fuck, this hurt so much more than you though it would. You thought having him home would feel like a relief, not a fresh stab wound. You just shake your head, not sure you can say anything. Jake waits patiently but after several long minutes, he breathes out a quiet sigh.Â
"Okay. Well. I think I should just apologize and get on with it. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." You can't stop the hitching sob that falls from your throat.Â
"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me."Â
"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests.Â
"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better.Â
"Well I do. I want us to have a fight, because you should be mad at me. You should be yelling at me and cursing the ground I walk on. You should've burned down this house!" He exclaims, and you can hear his frustration. You open your eyes to find Jake standing stiff and straight next to the slightly ajar front door. Hands clenched tight, Jake was staring at like you were water and he had been stranded in the desert for days, parched. A direct sighting of his green eyes is all it takes to break your resolve. Â
"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air.Â
"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.
"You know exactly why."Â Â
Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you.Â
"You don't have to be this saint you know. You don't have to be this perfectly stable person for me because you feel like that's what I need. Please don't let me get away with hurting you."Â
"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly.Â
"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.Â
"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of confirming that you are the bad guy you've convinced yourself you are. So, what would you like me to say instead?"Â Â Â
"I guess I want you to listen to the fact that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I left, I'm sorry for how I behaved, Iâ"
"Are you really sorry for what happened between us?" You ask in a small voice. You lower your eyes to look at the ground, not wanting to be too confrontational.Â
"Of course I am," he sighs. It's a stab to your heart. You had treasured the long heartbreakingly beautiful evening you had with Jake before he left, and hearing him say he doesn't feel the same is harrowing.Â
"Are youâ" you start to ask but stop yourself. You ball up all the hurt in your chest trying to rationalize and compartmentalize. Realizing this is another one of those times you had to fill in the gaps. It was time you refocused on the realities at hand. There were no promises besides the one you had made. That you would love him regardless, and continuously. Reminding yourself this fact helps, you could be upset after, later. Every moment actually with Jake should be treasured, this was the first moment you were getting with him in how long and of course you had ruined it.Â
"I'm sorry for every other thing I know I should be, and everything I willfully chose not to know too. I'm sorry, and well I want to go on forever. I want to keep telling you I'm sorry every second. So, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times more. Like you deserve."
"Jake, stop. Sometimes the more times you say something the cheaper the words have become. So let's keep this one valuable. I'm sorry for pushing, and you've said sorry too. We can move on now."Â
"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin.Â
"Yes, Jake, be plain. That's the best option for us."
"If we step over lines?"
"We say something, stop and talk about it."
"Okay." He agrees, "We have to talk about the other thing now too."
"What thing?" you ask.
"My question, what happened between us." He says as if he hadn't just told you part of him regrets it.Â
"You asked to be selfish with me Jake, and I said yes. I don't regret that, and I'm not mad about what happened. You had my permission and consent for all of it.'Â
"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains.Â
"Jake, I reallyâŠ" You sigh and scrub your hand over your face. "Can we not talk about this right now?"
 Jake nods silently in response. "Okay, Later, then."
"Sure, like when the Machados aren't listening on the other side of the door." You say loudly looking at the front door that was cracked, having no doubt your friends were being nosey. Not that you really blame them, you probably would have done the same thing.Â
"Do you still have errands to run?" he asks you. You look out to the street deciding you should at least take a small walk to sort through your thoughts.Â
"I'm just going to go on a little walk. I'm sure I'll be back by the time breakfast is done," you explain.Â
"Sounds good, sugar. Can I help you with your shoes?" He asks quietly. The only reason you nod your head yes is because you think you might start crying otherwise.Â
Jake kneels down and hesitates for a long moment before his large warm hand is on your ankle, helping angle your foot into the shoe. His thumb makes a brushing stroke across the skin before doing the same thing with the other foot.Â
When you get back from your walk, it's awkward. You completely avoid Marlee's attempts to get you to go off and talk with her. Instead, you decide that the best course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong. You laugh at jokes and ignore how stilted and awkward Jake's conversation is with everyone.Â
Then, after Marlee and Javy linger way too long, before you and Jake finally get them to leave. Once they are out the door and Jake has locked the door behind them, you both let out a sigh of relief. You meet Jake's gaze, both of you offer small smiles. It's the most normal moment you've had all day.Â
"Welcome back, Jake." You offer tentatively. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"I kinda just want to nap," he admits. You part ways at the top of the stairs giving him a strained smile and retreat into your room; Jake's eyes don't leave you until the door is shut firmly in place.Â
It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response.Â
You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked.Â
"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door.Â
"I'm fine. Thanks," he yells back. You wait but when you don't get anything more, you have no choice but to leave him be and go back to your room. You don't actually even see Jake again until two nights later. You have been able to tell that he is home but Jake is as elusive as a ghost.Â
You run into him next when you open your door one night to get some water before bed. Jake is standing on the other side, holding two water bottles. Part of you has a hunch that he had been standing there for a while. He looks shocked but a little relieved when he sees you.Â
"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet.Â
"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?"Â
Jake nods his head along with your words, his eyebrows drawing together. Then he holds out a water bottle for you to take. "Can I just be here? Here, with you?"
"Of course, always." You say stepping backwards into your room leaving the door wide open for him. You shuffle to your bed and lift open the blankets ready to welcome him there with you. However, Jake drops the pillow he was holding on the floor nearby and lays down instead.Â
You want to ask him questions about it but the edge he is on isn't one you want to poke or prod in any direction. While you are still hurt, knowing he is here is safe again, with you is equally as soothing, a small dosage of pain medication.Â
"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case.Â
"It's too soft for me right now."
"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly.Â
"I can't sleep. It's the worst part. Everything is too quiet and too still and at the same time not quiet or still enough. I think I might go insane." He explains in a low voice.Â
"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically.Â
"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully.Â
"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration.Â
"Someday, at some point, we are going to have to talk about it," Jake says so carefully you know he is consciously holding back the taunting frustration he wants to put into the words.Â
"No, we really don't," You contradict him.Â
"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked.Â
You think you should give into him again. You should allow Jake to talk his heart out and seek penance from you. How this should be a time when you are strong for him. However, as much as you want to give Jake the world, there must be times that you curl around your own heart to try and shield it from hurt.Â
"Listen, Jake. I don't need to know why you didn't talk to me while you were gone. No matter what your explanation is, it's going to hurt my feelings. So, I would rather not know. Please, let me pretend something a little kinder."Â
He is silent, so very quiet for so long you almost wonder if he has left. Evaporated from existence, that he never came home at all, and you've been living an elaborate hallucination. You turn on your side just to check in the soft lamp light that Jake is still laying on the floor.Â
"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think."Â
Jake's words feel like a punch in the gut, rattling around like a wrecking ball, leaving a bloody massacre behind. With a heavy blown out breath you say, "No it wouldn't have."
"No, it wouldn't have," he sighs in agreement.Â
"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before."Â
"Before?" He asks.Â
"Yes," you say, clutching your blankets tight. "If I could pretend that you never got orders and didn't leave. I would jump to that in an instant.Â
"You want to pretend nothing happened?"Â
"Isn't that an idea?" You huff a small broken laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
"What if I don't remember exactly how things went before?" Jake wonders.Â
"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously. Â
There are several long minutes of silence where you wait for him to say something. Finally, you hear Jake let out a long heavy audible groan while shifting. "If you don't want to talk it out. Pretending is probably our best option then. Otherwise, what are we going to do, sweets?"Â
"Sugar," You correct automatically.Â
"Hmm?"Â
"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets"Â
"Ah, that's right, and darling. I got it mixed up because you're so sweet to me."
"I'll help you. If you don't remember how it goes."Â
"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either.Â
"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually.Â
"It's fine enough, I guess." You answer as lightly as you can. Then you go through another bout of silence. You nervously play with the edge of a blanket hoping that this tension with Jake will ease. It's always gone away in the past, but that was also before.Â
"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again.Â
"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm.Â
"Sugar?"
"Yes, Jakers?"
"Can I ask you a question?" He asks. You laugh lightly, feeling a bit of the nervousness ease at his tone which has become much lighter.Â
"I never understand why people say that. Aren't you already asking a question?" Jake chuckles low in his chest in amusement. He doesn't follow along with the joke though, just leaves it there hanging in the air.Â
"The answer is yes," you tell him casually.Â
"You don't know what the question is."Â
"Yes, you can ask me a question," you clarify in a whisper. Jake makes some rustling sounds and you hear him come closer to you.
"Are you sure that bed is big enough for two?" He asks.Â
"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease.Â
With a nod Jake crawls onto bed and turns to face you on his side. However, he doesn't scoot in close like you expect. He is stone still on the other side of the bed, laying on top of the covers, only shifting his pillow once.Â
"What would you do, if I told you the last time I said yes, it had an extended warranty?" You ask while turning on your side to face where you are in the bed now.Â
"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks.Â
"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely.Â
"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?"Â
"I think it's because we are selfish. Maybe it's a little bit because I don't want the memory of the last time I tasted you to be bitter."Â
Jake rolls away from you onto his back, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Stop letting me take things from you."
"We both deserve a night where we are selfish with each other, I think." You tell him reaching across the gap between you. You set a hand on Jake's cheek ignoring the prickly stubble there.Â
"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch.Â
"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you.Â
"It was supposed to be just a kiss last time too." Jake's eyes are bright where they burn into yours. He inches a little closer and you lean forwards as well, reducing the gap between you two that much more until there is just a miniscule space now. Â
"I know," You answer against his lips, letting your hand slip into his hair. Jake's lips move with yours crowding in close, like he is trying to breathe all of you into himself and commit you to memory.Â
"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps.Â
"A promise?" You question.Â
"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.
"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn.Â
"That's true, but I'm willing to try anyway." He kisses you again and dips his tongue into your mouth. Jake swallows your little whimpers; he tastes just as good as he always has. It's very easy to be selfish with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Â
âŠ
It's a slow road to trying to get back to normal. Jake circles around the house like he is lost. Picking things up and setting them down, starting conversations with you and leaving halfway through them. Shadows stretch across his face and his increasingly dark stubble and facial hair. You are a little surprised to find that he doesn't have a red beard like most blonds do. The facial hair only serves to make him look increasingly gaunt.
Jake even denies your offer to start a puzzle together, telling you that wasn't something he could handle at the moment. You try not to seem like you were watching him like a hawk, but you definitely are. Until one day he stood up from the table in the middle of dinner and announced that he was going camping.Â
"Oh okay. Do you know how long?"Â
"Yeah," Jake sighs, "I'll be home before next weekend, and I promise you when I get home I'll be normal again."
"You don't have to be any which way for me Jake," you tell him gently.Â
"I know, but I need to do this for me too, sugar." He explains while putting away dishes. You watch him complete the task; Jake is antsy even with his hands occupied. None of the projects or tasks he has picked up since being home have been enough to occupy him with real distraction. Two days ago, you had walked into the garage where Jake had rigged up his camping hammock to the ceiling which you felt like he was swaying precariously 8 feet off the ground. On top of that Jake had music blasting, a documentary on Yosemite playing, while also whittling a piece of wood.Â
"Okay. I'll miss you." You eventually say. Jake purses his lip, and after a heavy gulp he nods his head. Once the last of the dishes is away he spins on his heel and heads towards the garage door.Â
You hurry after him, "Jake?"
"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory.Â
"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised.Â
"Yes, I packed earlier today."
"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly.Â
Jake freezes. He rubs his hands across his face pressing briefly into his eyes while sighing a very soft "Fuck." Then he turns to you fully looking abashed. "Yeah, sugar. What do you need before I go? I'm sorry I should have asked that first."
"No, it's no big deal. Honestly." You tell him backing off not wanting to be too much. Jake shushes you softly while stepping closer.Â
"Tell me how it goes. I need to remind myself about this part."
"Well," you start off hesitantly, "normally I would get a hug goodbye."Â
"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms. Draping his arms high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.
 "How's the next part going again, honey?"
"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest.Â
"Now?" He whispers.Â
"You would probably kiss my forehead."
"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily.Â
"I'll leave that one up to you, Jake." He unwraps a hand from your waist to hold the back of your neck, keeping you steady.Â
"And if I want to kiss somewhere else?"
"You've got my permission Jake," you tell him trying to keep want and desire out of your voice. Jake parts his lips and leans in closer brushing his lips to grace over your cheekbone.Â
"You can have it, Jake," you remind him.
"No," he answers and closes his eyes. "Not again, not yet. I'll be home in a few days."
Once Jake leaves you know there is something you have to do to help him. It's an idea that gets stuck in your head and then you can't get it out. He had been spending time daily in his hammock in the garage, and you noted that Jake had taken it with him when he left. You missed how he used to casually be in the living room, so you started brainstorming some ideas on how you might entice Jake to join you again.Â
So, you go to the kitchen and pull out the rolodex, find the card dedicated to Miss Celeste and give it a call. Russell answers the phone, and you can hear the man smiling through the phone as you ask after his wife. It turns out Jake's grandmother is just as blunt but kind hearted as you had been led to believe. After a longer conversation with her, she and Russ offer you some advice and tips
You aren't wholly sure how you managed to get it all done. Eventually having to call Coyote to help you move some of the living room furniture. However, after significantly less sleep than you already get, there is a large comfy hammock in the living room. You and Javy had to sandwich Jake's large comfy chair much closer to the couch than it was previously, but y'all managed to make it all fit.Â
Jake comes home from camping quietly late one night. The stubble he had been supporting before is a full-on beard now, and his hair is longer than you have ever seen it. This look is intimidating to you in lots of ways, like some mirrored version of Jake that you don't know. He offers. quick hello when he comes in from the garage, breezing past you and towards the stairs. Â
Jake doesn't make it to the stairs though instead he stands frozen at the edge of the living room for five whole minutes just staring at the hammock. You watch him closely, trying to gauge his reaction.Â
"It's a surprise for you." You say after the amount of time he is standing there increases to a concerning duration. Compelled to do something you explain, "I know your hammock has been one of the only places you have been able to relax."Â Â
"This is very sweet. I appreciate it." Jake starts evenly. It's contradictory as you see him grit his teeth, and his fists clench and unclench at his sides.Â
"You don't like it?" You ask him.
"It's not that," Jake tries to explain. "It's just you can't randomly switch the living room around and add new furniture like this."Â
Your mouth drops open in shock. This might be one of the first times Jake has ever told you there is something you can't do in the house. It's jarring, he has always spent so much time tailoring everything to your likes, desires, and aesthetics. You hardly even think about the house as Jake's and Jake's alone anymore. Frustration bubbles under the shock twisting into anger at the situation. You were trying your best, doing all the things you thought you should, and it still didn't seem like enough.Â
"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes.Â
"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room.Â
"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis.Â
"Well, what did you expect? I left for a few days and now there is a hammock in the living room. That's an outdoor item you brought indoors," Jake responds snappily. It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions.Â
"You act like you haven't done the same thing," you tell him, gesturing frustratedly at the juniper chest. "I was doing something nice for you. However, if you don't like it, I'm sure you're more than capable of taking it down and moving your furniture back and fixing your living room."Â Â
You leave Jake in the living room and go to the kitchen. He grumbles to himself upset which makes you feel even more on edge. However, you refuse to let Jake blowing back into the house prevent you from finishing the dishes you had been stacking and putting away.Â
"It's our living room," he finally calls back to you.
"You aren't acting like it."
"You could have given me some warning," he reasons, but it has a slightly accusatory tone.Â
"When Jake?" You ask him, upset. "When you called me and told me you were coming home? When you text? How exactly was I supposed to let you know?"
He doesn't have an answer and you slam the door of a cupboard harder than you intend. Inside, the stack of bowls were more precariously placed than you thought. The cupboard closes and bounces back open, the bowls ejecting and crashing hard against the ground. Several of them shatter when they make impact, sending ceramic shards flying across the area.Â
You aren't expecting the sound to trigger you. It most likely does because of how high strung and worried you already are. The house is such a safe comforting space you don't really have a game plan for when PTSD attacks hit you here. A chill makes its way up your spine, while the sound of shattering glass rings echoing in your ears, for much longer than it echoes in the room. It's all it takes for some flip to switch in your head.Â
Managing to take small gasping breaths, you try to assess the damage of the sharp ceramic pieces around you, categorizing how many bowls had broken. It doesn't help you to fight off sudden panic that is creeping in when you notice one of the destroyed bowls was one Miss Celeste had made for Jake. It was a soup bowl stamped with a silly song Jake liked to sing anytime he used it. Distantly hear Jake calling your name but can't fully process it. He is stepping towards you, fear rings through your body, and instinctually you go to step back away from him. Flinching hard every one of your muscles feels like it's attached to a live wire. Your fight or flight mode activated but you are still mostly frozen in the middle with short panting breaths, your eyes flit across the area and the room trying to find a suitable escape path.Â
"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up and showing you his open body language. Your breaths continue to come out gasping, but eventually you are able clear the cloudiness up enough with the help of Jake's soothing. Â
"Jake, help," you whimper. Training your eyes on Jake you think that he is the only available escape, from the glass around you and this attack. At your words, his whole face shifts overcome with a serious âget things doneâ demeanor.
"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?"Â
Jake is shoving his feet into some boots, then crunching through the broken ceramics and glass before picking you up. He carries you to the living room, setting you down on top of the closed puzzle table. Once you are there, he kneels in front of you. Picking up each of your feet, Jake carefully examines them for injury. Then gives the rest of your body a scan; he is clearly relieved to find that there weren't any cuts.Â
"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess.Â
"I can clean that," you try to tell him in a weak attempt for Jake to stop.
"You just stay there looking pretty and take some breaths, sweets." He responds from the kitchen. You decide to give in, which is probably for the best with the way the numb panic is still very present at the edge of your consciousness. Your heart is still beating erratically as well.Â
Jake is expedient and thorough about cleaning, going through the whole kitchen and dining room with his shop vacuum searching for any hiding slivers. When finished he makes his way to the living room and crouches by your side again sighing heavily.Â
"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.
"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I would have waited and asked you."
"You don't need to ask. I've just been on edge and wasn't expecting it. I do appreciate the thought. And you know I do love hammocks so, I'm sure I'll love it."
"We don't have to keep it," You remind him.
"We are taking it for a trial run," Jake responds. Then a few moments later he lets out a heavy sigh and says, "You know we are doing it all already, right?"Â
"What's that?"
"It" Jake says gesturing with his free hand in the air. "We fit together. We're," Jake takes the slightest pause, his hand grips yours so tight you almost ache, then he drops it completely. "A bridle joint or maybe, a box joint."Â
"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying.Â
"No, we aren't. I think it might just be this, Sugar. It's just us." Jake says the words like a confession, an admission, an honest reality.Â
You try to analyze the look in his eyes, but over anything else all you can focus on is how tired he is. You pick Jake's hand up again. Standing from the couch, pulling him with you. Jake asks no questions; he just follows you as you guide him. You tug him with you to each of the doors as you make sure each one is locked, jiggling them to be sure. Then he follows you to the kitchen as you grab two of his glass water bottles. You hand one to him and take his, gripping it tightly while his other hand remains loose in yours.Â
You keep leading him then as he follows you up the stairs. Finally, You open the door to his room, and freeze in the doorway. A gasp catches in your throat. It's empty. The whole room. Not a mattress or a bedframe, no side tables or a dresser. It's all gone. There is one chest, a basket with some blankets, and one pillow. Jake stands close behind you, and you hear him audibly sigh into your ear.Â
You take a deep breath to steady yourself and pull Jake through the room, leaving no room to address the issue and heading straight to the bathroom. You turn on the water for the bath and let the tub start filling. Turning to Jake and finally, let go of his hand. He looks lost at you, and you bring your hand up to lift his chin up a little higher. Jake takes your direction and those gorgeous sea-glass green eyes look at you.Â
You tug at his shirt twice before he follows the movement and pulls it off. You step out of your own pants but otherwise stay clothed. Jake follows you sliding off his jeans. You go to Jake's bath chest still in place and grab a scent you think will be soothing, adding it to the bath.Â
You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head small. When you start to pull off your shirt, Jake's hands stop you there too. He gives you a pleading look, and you shrug back, leaving your shirt in place. You motion for Jake to get in the bath, and he wordlessly does as you say. Making room for you between his knees, Jake scoots until he hits the back of the tub. You step into the warm water and slide down to settle in. Â
Jake's head falls forward so his forehead presses into the space where your shoulder and neck meet, taking deep breaths. You shudder, feeling the air of his breath against your neck. Jake's large hands are gripping the side of the bathtub hard. You are shocked that the feeling of the wet clothes sticking to your skin hasn't rocketed you out of the bathtub. But like it often is, it's hard to focus on anything that's not Jake when he is this close to you.Â
After a while, when Jake lifts his head and leans back, you do as well, leaning into his chest, his arms slide around you, pulling you even closer, as you draw imaginary designs on one of his forearms.Â
"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him.Â
"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly.Â
"Before me?" And that actually makes you want to cry because it sounds so true. Things certainly would have been less variable without you around in Jake's life. No one to throw him off his routine. And before him weren't you better able to protect your heart better than this? You had been calloused and strong before. Living with Jake and in this house has been like a fine grit sandpaper buffing you so now you only have smooth soft edges.Â
Has that been the way it's been between the two of you this whole time, something bad that was disguised as good? You can't come up with an answer, and apparently, neither can he. So it sits there, wilting, rotting between the two of you.
The silence is loud and almost echoes in the bathroom, with no room to hide. You finally take one of Jake's hands in yours and play with his fingers. He seems content with this, relaxing even further into the water. One of his knees occasionally bumping into you playfully, as if you could forget that he was there, as if there were anything besides Jake on your radar.Â
Then he is whispering your name against your neck, right behind your ear. Gooseflesh bursts across your skin, and his beard is coarse and scratchy against your sensitive skin. Not having been trimmed once since it started growing. You try to shift away but his lips follow you. Tired of the game you reach a hand behind you and fist it into Jake's long hair, tightly tugging his face away from your neck. Jake gasps in response.Â
You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would descend into tickling. Jake grabs your wrist and turns it, and then ghosts his lips over your pulse point. After two more soft kisses there he presses three to your palm, and on each finger. Each press of his lips is intoxicating even in a place as insignificant as your hand. With your ring finger Jake's kisses are three times as long and lingering. It's an action that has you slamming your eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping. He finally releases your arm and you drop your hand back into the warm water.Â
Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body. However, it is the feeling, emotional warmth of it that makes the difference. You tremble slightly feeling completely overwhelmed, the idea of being anywhere else or trying to move is devastating to your system.Â
"Sugar pie?"
"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietlyÂ
"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"
"No."
"Our mental health?"
"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." Jake nods along, in understanding with your words.Â
"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?"Â
"Not sure even you could swing that one, honey." You respond. Jake's eyes and whole face positively light up moments after you say the words.Â
"Honey?"
You hum thinking it over before smiling and nodding, "Yup."
"But that's my nickname for you," Jake says in a pouting tone but the bright expression he is wearing hasn't dimmed.Â
"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pieâ"
"I called you Huckleberry pie once andâ"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off.Â
"Well no more honey for you anymore. You use half the sweet names under the sun, I'm allowed to have one. And I think it's honey." You cup Jake's scratchy bearded cheeks and smile softly. "You're my honey, now."Â
"Why honey?"
"Because you're so sweet."
"I'm not," Jake says brokenly, all playfulness having been sucked out of him. His head is heavy in your palm as he eases into your hold.
 "You're sweet," you repeat more firmly. Then continue, "Plus I can just imagine how snug and happy you would be in those honey combs."
"Hexagons are one of the superior shapes," Jake sighs.
"Sure they are. And you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters, and hides those sad green eyes from you. Â
"I never knew just how blond the sun could make your hair," You sigh when you reach the end, scratching back up his scalp to repeat the process. You are turned fully to face him now, sloshing the water a bit to settle more comfortably. However Jake doesn't move, he seems almost as if he could be a statue made of glowing gold.Â
"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders.Â
He squints a single eye open at you, and you freeze as if you've been caught. Instead Jake's hand's pull your knees to settle on either side of his hips. Dragging you that much closer to him. It makes your breath hitch and Jake's eyes darken, however, he still leaves a bit of space.Â
"One of my grandpas was Italian," Jake says with a quirk of his lips. The single eye he had opened closed as the smile melted off his face. Your hands resume their path, after massaging Jake's shoulders you knead his neck. Which just leads to playing with his hair again. Your train of thought was lost until you noticed a small light but fresh scar on the top of his bicep. You lean forward and gloss your lips over the skin there. Jake's hand tightens where he is holding your thighs. He takes a careful breath in through his nose, and a long exhale. He follows that up with two more shallow but steady breaths and then just like that the tension releases from his body as he releases the air out.
"Where did you learn how to breathe like that, cowboy?" You ask him, letting your thumb continue to trace the strange new scar you have been examining.Â
"Oh, so, I'm cowboy now?"
"Mr. Cowboy, my honey." You coo back. Jake's eyes flutter open again, he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded. Â
"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow.Â
"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later.Â
"I'm thinking, you did a whole summer of Vipassana, and meditation in some foreign country that made you have concerns about being that white guy(âą)."Â Â
As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world, and you find it unacceptable that his beard hides any part of them from your view. You see the hint of them but it's not the same, you think that as you trace the shape of one. Your right left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered.Â
"We both know I could never do vipassana."
"I have evidence to the contrary," the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and you regret them instantly.Â
"Don't be mean to me," he begs you. In the same breath he speaks the words you are already halfway through saying, sorry.
"I'm working on leaving it I promise," You tell him.
"We don't have to leave it, we could talk about it." Jake suggests hopefully.Â
"We are leaving it Jake," you say back sharply and he snaps his mouth shut chewing at the side of his cheek for a moment before responding.Â
"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump. Â
"So, it wasn't meditation? Is this going to be another riveting USNA story?" You ask him, steering the conversation back on a lighter track.Â
"It was before Annapolis."
"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and pressing your face against his bicep. Â
"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.
"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly.Â
"I had to take friendship classes in middle school."Â
"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information.Â
"This other kid and I hated each other, and we were constantly getting into it. The worst part is we had lockers right next to each other. He accidentally hit me with his locker, and I lost it. So I slammed his head right back and we started brawling. Anyways long story short, our school counselor made us take friendship classes, and taught us breathing techniques. It was all bull shit, but we ended up being friends afterwards, bonding over how stupid friendship class was."
"At least you got some good breathing techniques."Â
"Something like that."Â Â
"What's this one then? It's new." you say ghosting your lips over the scar you had found again. Jake sighs, glancing at the scar himself.Â
"You are going to be mad," he starts.Â
"Why would I be mad, honey?"
"I got two more moles removed." The admission makes you pull back and give Jake a weary suspicious glare.Â
"Have you not been wearing sunscreen again?"
"No, I've been wearing sunscreen ever since you told me about it, I promise. The Doc just asked about one of them and wanted to do a biopsy. So, I said he might as well just take them all off while he was at it."
"And?"Â
"Everything came back benign. Nothing to really worry about, Sugar."
"I always worry about you, Jakers." You sigh with relief and kiss that scar again, enjoying the feeling of having your head pillowed on his arm.Â
"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know, but you know you must persist on.Â
"I don't want to make you worse, Jake."
"You don't make me worse. I am worse, no one has ever inspired me to act quite as selfishly as you have. I don't even know how to wholly be anymore, without you."Â
"I just want to make things better for you."Â
Jake groans quietly, "Maybe someday it will finally click that you make everything better. That you are stunning, and gorgeous, and just over all the best."Â
"We could clear cut a forest, and not find a single tree that's sappier than you Jake." It inspires a quirk of his lips but the laugh you were hoping for.
"You probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet like that for a long time, as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil.Â
"Jake, where are you?"Â
"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath.Â
"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no.Â
"Are you on the ocean?"
He feels the water around him briefly then settles his hands on your skin again. "It doesn't appear so."
"Are you on base?"
"No."Â
"So, where are you?"
"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers.Â
You examine him closely from his wet hair to the defined muscles of his shoulders and neck. How much muscle Jake gained deployment almost pushed him into a category you describe as too buff, but not actually going over the edge. As you trace the shape of his face you can easily identify what one of the problems is.Â
"You are being suffocated," you tell him as your fingers trace up his cheeks and around through his hair there.
"Why do you have a beard Jake?" You ask in a gentle curious tone.Â
"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."
"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly.Â
"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water.Â
"Do you want help?"
"You want to give me a shave, sugar?"
"I'd be willing to give it a go if you feel like it would help," you answer plainly. He thinks about it before nodding.Â
"It would."Â
That's all you need to hear before you are stepping out of the bath. Immediately you hate how the wet material of your shirt clings to your skin. So, you quickly rip it off and throw it into the shower. Jake groans behind you and you point a finger back at him while grabbing fresh towels and Jake's shaving kit from beside the sink. Â
"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him.Â
"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body.Â
"You were two minutes from falling asleep."
"That was before," Jake whines as you come back to the bath and he sees you in even more detail.Â
You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. Settled again your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake closes his eyes throwing his head back whispering a quiet "Fuck."
When his eyes open again, they are slightly dilated with lust. It makes you smile at him whispering, "hi there."Â
"Hi," he breaths back.
"Hi," you say again, smiling wider. Jake can't stop himself from smiling as well, lips drawn upwards. His hands trace up your bare sides and you give him a small glare. Grabbing his chin you tilt his head back once more.Â
"Yup, hold yourself just like that," You tell him, pausing to make sure he doesn't move. You start to lather up some shaving cream spreading it along this neck.Â
"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions.Â
"Not really. So, you might want to give me pointers. I don't want to cut your pretty face." You answer with a teasing tone.Â
Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then starts to detail the intricate shaving ritual he normally keeps. You follow each one of the steps. It's a slow process, shaving him. You are worried that you will cut him or make some other mistake in the process. Jake isn't hesitant or shy about giving you sweet and gentle encouragement.Â
Finally, Jake's face is free of hair again. You help wipe away the remaining product, and dab on the aftershave in his kit you brought over. Just like he asked you. Jake winces but gives you a tentative smile when you stare at him examining your work. You smile back softly, setting things down that are in your way, feeling relief to be done.Â
The two of you finish your bath before getting out and drying off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you head back to your room changing and settling into bed. Jake follows not long after in a pair of comfy pants and a soft muscle shirt. He asks if he can join you in bed even though you already pulled the covers back while waiting for him.Â
Jake takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable until he is laying on his side facing you, meeting your gaze as you shift to see him better. You lift a hand to cup his face enjoying the fresh smooth skin there.Â
"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently. Leaning forwards Jake angles his lips to barely brush over yours before he pulls back.Â
"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more.Â
"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips.Â
"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper.Â
"That's exactly the problem," Jake answers. "I won't do wrong by you again. And that means I don't want to rush anything. Are you in a hurry?"
"Does that have a timeline?" You ask, ignoring your frustration.Â
"It does in a general sense."
"Care to share?"
"Sure," Jake mutters tiredly into your neck. "I think it's been going for a while, right?"
"That's right," You answer, letting your hand drift into his long hair. It was almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled to get it cut before he started work again leaving you only a few days left to savor this. His eyes close, and a small smile graces his face. With a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp a tiny whine tumbles out of him. Jake seems too tired to care anymore. His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands.Â
"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask.Â
"As I see it, the rest of our lives. So, give or take sixty-ish more years."
"We are making it the long haul huh?"
"Yes, Ma'am. We will, so there's absolutely no reason to start at a sprint."Â
"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly.Â
Jake huffs into your neck, sucking in a deep breath he blows it out slowly tickling your skin. "I have a great comeback for that."
"Oh really?"Â
He hums in affirmation. Then he sleepily manages to crack an eye open and looks at you, while he mumbles, "But I am a sleepy boy. Wait, noâŠÂ a sleepy man"
You chuckle and kiss Jake's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy boy"
"Sleepy man," he tries to correct you, but the words are hardly coherent. It takes less than five minutes before Jake is fully asleep, and you aren't far off yourself. Jake was so warm, and it was so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones, falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake. Even in your dream you realize that might still not be enough.Â
...
Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry, again Tumblr would't let me put it all here.
#whew#I'm emo#PLEASE READ THIS#like if you do anything for yourself - read this#it's so... incredible#like astounding#jesus#jake seresin x reader#x reader#fic rec#alex fave
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Too Smart {G.E.}
â° đđđ«đ§đąđ§đ đŹ: Reader gets called dumb, Reader feels betrayed, slight angst??? Use of the nickname "pretty girl" because it makes me happy
â° đđđąđ«đąđ§đ đŹ: Gareth Emerson x fem!cute!reader
â° đđšđ«đ đđšđźđ§đ: 837 words
â° đđźđŠđŠđđ«đČ: Gareth comforts you when someone tells you that you aren't smart enough to do what you want to do.
â° đ/đ: To the anon who said they needed more of this, ily. Tagging @ur-local-geek-fest bc she endorses my decisions and I showed her the collage so...
You were in a terrible mood after your last class and just wanted to complain to your boyfriend. You saw him by your locker and stomped over to him, steaming.
"Gareth, I need to talk to you about class." You told him, the anger still evident in your voice no matter how much your told yourself to calm down.
His face morphed into a softer expression when he saw you and heard how heated you were about... whatever had happened. "What is it angel?" He asked, trying to grab your hands.
You put your books in your locker and crossed your arms, looking upset more than anything. "You know Matthew Thompson?"
Gareth looked confused for a moment before answering. "The short one in band?"
You shook your head at his response. "No, no. The tall one on the football team. With the mullet and the freckles?"
Gareth's soft expression hardened at the mentio of that Matthew Thompson, he's a- Not Gareth's favorite person. "Oh... Him. What about him?"
You sniffed a little before starting your story. "We were in chemistry and we had a substitute right?"
"Right," Gareth nodded.
"She asked me what I wanted to do when I left high school and I said that I wanted to be a NASA scientist," You said.
"Lifelong dream, sure." He shrugged, not catching on yet.
You shook your head and ran your tongue over your teeth in annoyance before continuing. "And Matthew Thompson asked if I was sure I didn't want to be a housewife."
"Why would he ask that?" Gareth asked you incredulously.
You took a deep breath and swiped a finger under your eye, trying not to ruin your mascara with a tear. "I asked the same thing and he said 'Because it doesn't require intelligence to be a housewife. And you can wear as much pink as you want as long as your husband doesn't mind dating a literal child.' And you wanna know the worst part?"
"Obviously."
"Chrissy Cunningham laughed at his joke!" You exclaimed." She's one of my best friends, why would she laugh at something so hurtful?" You asked him, tears finally falling.
Gareth wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer to him. "You know what? They're just jealous because they don't have a 4.0 GPA."
You pushed away from him sadly and shrugged. "I don't know. I think I just want you to drive me home."
"How about this, what about we go to the mall?" He asked, trying to cheer you up.
"Didn't it burn down last year?"
Gareth's eye's widened before going back to normal. "New plan-"
You put your hand up to get him to stop. "No thanks. I'm good."
"Oh, okay." He nodded, leading you to his car.
The entire ride to your house was silent except for the radio softly playing today's greatest hits. It broke your boyfriend's heart to hear you crying in the seat next to him so he put a hand on your leg and patted it.
"We're home," He whispered.
You got out of the car and walked around to the driver's side. "Thanks. And I'm sorry for being like this today." You apologized, looking down at your shoes.
"Don't worry about it. Pick you up tomorrow?" He asked, practically hanging out of the window.
"Yes please." You whispered, not noticing he had wanted his usual goodbye kiss as you walked away.
He frowned before a newer plan popped into his head.
. . .
It was 6 in the evening and you were home alone in your pajamas. You jumped when you heard the doorbell ring and groaned before opening the door to see your boyfriend standing there with a plastic bag from family video in his hand.
You crossed your arms and leaned against the door frame. "Gareth, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at band practice?" You asked with a slightly annoyed huff.
He held up the bag with a wide smile. "Not when my pretty girl's upset! I got Snickers-" He began listing.
You pushed yourself off the door frame and gestured for him to walk into your home. "Come in."
"Wow it does not take much to convince you," He chuckled.
You closed the door behind him and turned on the television in the living room. "It's because I know you have Snow White with you."
Gareth followed you to fiddle with the VCR before popping in the tape. "It's because it's your favorite movie."
You sighed and sat down on the couch. "I just want what she has," You said dreamily. "And I do. My own personal Prince Charming," You cooed.
Gareth grabbed the bag with the snacks and plopped down next to you. "Aww. See? Already feeling better."
"Oh quit." You said, playfully slapping his chest. "Just turn on the movie before I change my mind."
#gareth emerson x y/n#gareth emerson x you#gareth emerson#gareth emerson x reader#gareth emerson imagine#gareth emerson fluff#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things#fluff#stranger things fluff#âŽâ”â¶âŽathena writesâ¶âŽâ”â¶
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Insecure | Doc Ock
Summary: When Otto had accidentally walked in on you just as you were getting into the shower, you panic as you find a way to try and talk through it with him, but emotions bubble to the surface.Â
A/N: hopefully this chapter isnât so short unlike shower! warnings are as follows: fluff, talk about anxiety, also some insecure thoughts from reader (YâALL ARE GORGEOUS DONâT EVER FORGET THAT) yah thatâs it :)Â
The Single Word SeriesÂ
You were mortified. Absolutely horrified. Terrified.    You thought you had locked the door--you did, you swore you did. Your tired brain got the best of you.    He saw you naked. Otto saw you naked. The tentacles saw you naked--that was a thought you never thought youâd feel so insecure about, but Otto. . .    Fate, or some supernatural force decided to mess with you today: first itâs making him your crush, and now he sees you naked. Great.Â
   Your shower turned from a relaxing, ready to jump into bed plan into an anxiety-riddled, scolding yourself nerve fest.    How could you have been so stupid?    He saw you--he saw everything you hid under your shirts and tucked into your pants. He saw everything youâve ever loved and hated about yourself.    Peeking your head out of the bathroom door, you found yourself alone in your bedroom, as it has always been when youâve taken a shower, but your nerves were starting to get the best of you. You approached your closed door and locked it, trying to make up for your dumb mistake before and trying to ease your mind by the slightest means.    It didnât help.    Drying off with shaky hands, you put on your underwear, and just when you tug on the drawer full of your shirts, you look at yourself in the mirror.Â
   Otto saw all of that. The way your chest didnât look like how you always wanted it to, the way your stomach wasnât flat and how everything else about your body just looked out of proportion.    Ugly. And he saw it. He saw it all.    You decided to go for a big crewneck you had in your drawer instead of a fitting t-shirt, and sweats that were baggy. The crewneck and sweats hid everything well so that when you decided to go talk to Otto, you didnât feel so vulnerable and. . .well, naked. However, vulnerable is how you felt. You felt like a spotlight from a helicopter was following you around everywhere you went.Â
   You found Otto in the living room, pacing, all four actuators up and clicking and whirring. He had a hand at his mouth, thinking, his eyes dancing furiously around at the ground. You thought you could hear him muttering, mumbling words ever so softly, his tone anxious, and the actuators mimicked his nerves. Just as you were going to grab Ottoâs attention, an actuator turned towards you, itâs jaw opening quickly, spinning with a whirr. Otto turned in your direction a second after.    You both jumped at each otherâs presence. You felt your face growing warm, and you saw Ottoâs turning pink.    Perfect, you thought, adding more onto the embarrassing morning. Heâs going to picture me bare for the rest of his time here.    But if he was going to stay here longer, you needed to address the elephant in the room.     âHey,â you said with a weak nervous giggle.    Ottoâs smile grew crooked, and you could see the genuine side of it, but you knew that it held the tension in its crookedness.Â
    âUm,â you felt your face grow even warmer, as hot as fire. âIâm so sorry a-about this morning--â     âNo, Iâm sorry--â     â--I-I didnât lock the door, itâs my fault--â     â--I just walked right in, this is all my fault--â     â--Iâm really embarrassed that you had to see me. . .like that--I-Iâm so sorry you had to see all. . .that, I--â you felt the tears starting to well in your eyes.    No, no, no, not now, not now, not now--he couldnât see you naked and crying in the span of an hour.    Your breath hitched in your throat, your voice teetering in the change of tone, growing hoarse, on the verge of crying. Ottoâs nervous, crooked smile dropped, and his expression immediately grew soft.    You forced a nervous laugh, closing your eyes, hoping the tears would go away. âSorry--Iâm just extremely embarrassed--âÂ
    âWhy are you getting upset?â he asked. Otto turned more towards you, his eyes soft, brows furrowed with concern. âItâs okay, really, this was all my fault, I was too tired to realize you were already in the bathroom.â    You didnât feel as much relief as youâd thought hearing that. Your mind was occupied with other thoughts, and you couldn't focus due to all of them swimming in your head.     âW-Well, Iâm sorry that you had to see m-me n--just like that, and thatâs just. . .itâs just embarrassing to me so--sorry you had to see that--â    Otto tilted his head at you. âWait, what are you sorry for?â    You wanted to apologize for a lot of things you couldnât fix about yourself. Your flabby muscles, big shoulders, your chest that wasnât the same size as the other beautiful people in the world. You wanted to apologize for everything that made up you. So you did.Â
    âJust. . .seeing me.â you said. Quickly you wiped a tear away, and seeing Ottoâs reaction sent your anxiety into overdrive. âI--no oneâs ever seen me naked before, I donât--â--GOD DONâT SAY THAT--â--um--Iâve never--â--JESUS WHAT ARE YOU DOING? â--Iâm not--I donât like how I look.â    There. You said it.    Ottoâs face softened once again.    You sniffed and sighed, avoiding his brown eyes. You hadnât heard the actuators whirring or clicking. They had been as still as Otto. With your mind still in overdrive, you kept continued talking, which was something that happened when you were anxious and upset.     âKnowing that you had to see me, like that--I mostly feel bad for you that you had to see it because I wouldnât want to see it either and--âÂ
   Otto chanted your name as he approached you from across the room, hand held up in an attempt to make you stop talking just for a moment. When he finally stood in front of you, he was frowning, lips slightly parted with his brows furrowed, his dark brown eyes looking down on you with concern.     âWhy are you apologizing for the way you look?â he asked. âYou shouldnât ever do that--Iâm apologizing for being stupid and inconsiderate of your privacy, but you? Youâre apologizing for looking how you do. That. . .thatâs not right,â his frown grew bigger. âThat does things to a person, thinking that way,â he looked down for a moment, and you saw a small smile start to grow on his face as he chuckled. âI mean, look at me, Iâm a big guy, what youâre degrading yourself about is nothing when next to me,âÂ
   You scoffed a laugh, a real smile finally stretching across your face, but you still felt bad for laughing even though Otto was laughing too.     âNo,â you shook your head at him. âYouâre not--â     âDonât deny it,â Otto said gently. âYou canât possibly think that you are the most unlovliest thing in the world now, do you?â    You first laughed, âI donât think âunlovliestâ is a word.â    Otto chuckled, âIâm a man of science.â    You smiled, but it started unraveling as you thought on Ottoâs question. âBut it feels that way to me,â you told him. âI donât look like all the beautiful people I see out in the street, or the other women at work. Iâve seen old ladies who could be photographed for magazines at their age. And all those people, I wonder that since theyâre so beautiful, I know that they are loved by someone, because someone saw everything they are and fell in love, body and spirit and--â    Your tears started falling heavy like a rainstorm down your cheeks. You swallowed hard trying to go on. Otto watched you with sad eyes.     âAnd,â you went on. âI wonder if Iâm ever going to be as loved as the beautiful people if I look like this.âÂ
   There was a moment of silence as you and Otto stood apart from each other. You sniffed and wiped your eyes. Saying that felt good, as no one else ever really knew how you felt, as you thought youâd be a bother. But you also just told the criminal you were harboring for nearly a two weeks in the same time heâd been here. Youâd never told your friends of five years about any of this, but Otto. . .you had this feeling heâd knew, like heâd understand.    You sniffed again. âWow,â you forced a chuckle. âUm, I didnât mean to pour all of that on you, Iâm so sorry. Youâre not a therapist--I donât know why I did that--â     âNo, no, no,â Otto spoke softly, coming even closer to you. He was right in front of you now, and he gently placed his big hands on your shoulders. He said your name, and then, âYouâre allowed to tell people how you feel. You have a right to let your feelings pour out. I actually feel grateful that you told me all of this, because I havenât quite told you everything about me yet, and you still help me by giving me a roof over my head and a bed I shouldnât sleep in,â    You were going to make a retort to that comment, but Otto smiled and shook his head.     âNo, no, itâs true, but. . .thatâs where I get quite insecure myself.â his eyes grew darker, and his smile fell fast. âI. . .should tell you why Iâm like this now, but in doing that, I fear that Iâll scare you.âÂ
   You looked into Ottoâs eyes as he looked back at you.     âSo, you see,â he said softly. âYou are not unlovely, nor are you unloved because you think youâre unlovely. If anything, you are the loveliest person Iâve had the pleasure of meeting. I thought fate wasnât on my side when my life got turned upside down, but I think meeting you is how itâs making amends.â    You smiled up at Otto, and with his hands still on your shoulders, you touched his arms, giving them a gentle squeeze.     âThank you, Otto,â you told him.     âOf course.â he replied.     âAlso,â you added. âItâs your choice to tell me about what happened before I found you. And if you never tell me, thatâs fine too.â    Otto smiled, and you did the same back to him.    There was a pause. A moment where your hands and arms went stiff, and you had known you and Otto were thinking the same thing.    Was he going to hug you? Having a moment like this together, could you both hug? Was that how deep the relationship had grown in a matter of two weeks? He did hold your hand out of anxiousness the other day, so what could be said about that was fine but make a hug feel so awkward? The actuators even anticipated a hug--at least, thatâs what it looked like to you when all four claws looked between you and Otto.Â
   Slowly, both your hands dropped from his arms, and he took his hands off your shoulders.     âUh, thanks again,â you said softly, awkwardly looking away.    Otto did the same, smiling small. âAnytime.â then, to clear the small awkward tension out of the air, Otto chuckled, âYou must be tired.â He pointed towards your bedroom. âPlease, take the bed. Itâs yours anyways, and Iâve been feeling much better. I can take the pull-out.â    You smile and sigh sweetly, closing your eyes as you knew that this was his final way of telling you to take back your bed. âOnly if your back wonât hurt.â    Ottoâs smile pulled into the corner of his mouth, still genuine, but a little bit not. âTruth is, it always hurts. Itâs something that can be fixed.â    You nod and pull on the sleeves of your crewneck. That didnât make you feel any better, hearing that he was always in pain, but you were tired, and you knew Otto wanted you to go to bed. You knew he wouldnât want you to worry over him.Â
   So, you finally went to sleep in your own bed, under your own covers with your head on your pillow. It took a few minutes longer than normal to have you fall asleep, just because you couldnât stop thinking about Otto, his spine, and just how much pain he had to deal with everyday.Â
#doc ock#doc oct#otto octavius#dr otto octavius#doctor octopus#doctor otto octavius#doc ock x reader#doc ock x you#otto octavius x reader#otto octavius x you#marvel#spiderman#spiderman nwh#spiderman no way home#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#the single word series
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The first tell was the body next to her. The second was the warmth. Her bed was never warm these days. The first two things had already clued her in that there was something off. Off was an understatement. Sheâs certain she passed out on her office floor clutching a bottle of alcohol and Jess was going to kill her in the morning. So, how the fuck-
The longer she stays there, eyes closed, feeling the breathing of a stranger, the more sheâs convinced sheâs suffered from amnesia.Â
Beyond scared she opens her eyes, hoping, praying that she didnât bring home some idiot from a cheap lesbian bar. Her eyes land on blonde hair and an all too familiar set of defined shoulders and Lena lets out a gasp of surprise. She sobers up, jerks upright. Jolting the pair of arms wrapped around her waist and making her companion wake abruptly.Â
âLena- Wha- Whyâre you awake?â
âKara-â That was all she was capable of as of the moment, because Kara was sitting up and flicking on the bedside lamp, letting Lena glimpse the small clock on the nightstand that read 4: 00 a.m.Â
Karaâs voice was all raspy and sleep-laden and she was looking at Lena with concern. She was looking at Lena like theyâve done this all the time. And they did.Â
Once.Â
She remembers jerking awake screaming from nightmares and Kara holding her; remembers waking up to Karaâs screams and holding her.Â
But this-
This wasnât right.Â
âDid you have a nightmare?â She asks, crinkle forming. And Lena just stares and stares and-
âKara, this isnât real.â
âWhat? Oh, baby, come here. That dream mustâve really done a number on you, huh?â Kara coos and she gathers Lena in her arms. Lena can do nothing but melt and follow Karaâs movements, her mind is still reeling.Â
Trying to decipher the events that had led here. This wasnât real. This-
A tremble shakes the bed. Lenaâs heart rate ticks up, Kara seems to have heard because sheâs tightening her embrace and more words come out of her lips, but Lena doesnât hear a word of it.
âIâm here, youâre safe. Iâm here.âÂ
Lena finally finds her voice and she slowly tries to extricate herself from Kara. She can feel her hesitating to let her go.Â
âThis isnât real,â She repeats and Kara is ready to protest, âPlease, Kara. Please listen to me?â
She nods. Kara was never one to deny Lena anything, anyway. Lena sighs a breath of relief.Â
âThank you. Uh- I think this isnât real, Kara. I think Iâm inside a Black Mercy induced dream.â
And as if it heard a cue, the bed and the rest of the room vibrates as if ashamed of being called-out so easily.Â
âNo, no, no. You arenât. Youâre real. Iâm real, You-â Kara is scrambling for words, âLook- Here, feel this?â Kara frantically grabs her hand and presses it to her own chest, âCan you feel it? This is real. Donât say it isn-â
Lena feels like sobbing, because it does feel real. The strong beats underneath her palm thundering through her very soul. It feels so so so fucking real. Sheâs never wanted something to be real as bad as this. She wants to believe, because Kara is looking at her with those baby blue eyes and she wants to say that âYes, I believe it real. Weâre real.â
She canât.
âKara, the bed is trembling. Can you feel it? This isn't real. Youâre in my head.â
It was brutal. She watches Karaâs face fall. She retracts her hand back.Â
âHow are you so sure that this isnât real?â
The question was asked with so much fear.Â
âBecause,â she starts shaky but certain, âI hurt you, Kara. And that is the one thing that I can never forget.â
It was true. She can never forget the way Kara crumpled to her feet. Canât forget the way the Girl of Steel broke by Lenaâs hands. Canât forget the tear-stricken face.Â
Canât forget the pleas.Â
âDonât do this, Lena. Please, come on. Please, stay. Donât leave. Not you, please I canât-â
âOh.â
The silence was deafening. She canât look at Kara as she processes everything. So she takes the time to survey the room. And God, every inch of the room screams how much theyâve stitched their lives with the other.Â
There were books haphazardly stacked in one corner, a painting easel in the other, Karaâs cape shining in the dim light of the lamp, Lenaâs old MIT sweatshirt at the foot of the bed.Â
A wedding portrait. They were married here. Fuck.Â
Lena chances a glance at her left hand and not only does she find a ring but also a matching gold bracelet. A Kryptonian mating band. Now, she notices that Karaâs ring was worn on her neck next to her Motherâs necklace Lena supposes she wears it underneath the Super suit and a matching bracelet sitting on her left wrist.Â
âIâm sorry,â Lena says âfor everything.â she wants to add but she remembers this isnât her Kara. She doesnât have a Kara. She doesnât have any part of Kara. Not anymore.
âWhat are you sorry for? If anyone could figure out they were inside a parasite induced dream, it would be you. Youâre a genius but youâre dumb for apologizing. You should reject the fantasy now, Lena. Youâll die.â
Damn it, even here.Â
Even here Lena is still hurting her and Kara still wants to save her.Â
The tears finally fall. The sobs come next.Â
âOh, Lena. Come here. Itâs okay. Iâm here,â
âI- I know, Iâll die but God, Kara, I want to stay here. I- Youâre my everything, you know?â
âI know, Lena. Iâve always known. You donât have to die because Iâll always know. You need to get out of here now,â She whispers against Lenaâs temple and Lena takes the time to breathe her in. God, even the scent smells real.Â
âY-youâre right. I should go, but-â Lena doesnât know how to ask for what she wants. That was what her therapist had said the first time she booked an appointment.
âBut what?â
âTell me about our life here first?â At that Kara pulls away a bit to look into her eyes; gauging if this is really what Lena wants.Â
It is, itâs what she wants but more than that itâs what she needs. The reassurance that somewhere out there, there was a world in which they made each other happy. That in a universe out there--whether real or not--the both of them had a taste of a happy ending.
âOkay, okay yeah. But first, promise me youâll get out of here as fast as you can, once weâre done?âÂ
She was never one to deny Lena Luthor anything, remember? She was more than happy to recount the entirety of their love story to her.
âThank you.â And Lena canât help but press a soft kiss to Karaâs cheek.Â
âWhere do you want to start?â
âDo we have a dog?â
âKrypto,â Kara says with a shy smile as if she knows that Lena would laugh at the goofy sentimental name choice, âAnd a cat, Streaky Jr., you donât allow pets in the bedroom so,â
âIâm impressed we have the time for pets,â Lena whispers as she shifts closer to Kara in the bed. Heart now beating in a steady calm rhythm, gone was the panic earlier, now replaced by a sense of security, no matter how false it is.Â
âWell, you decided to distribute most of the workload to Jess--who you promoted to board member by the way, and to Sam. And since, Wednesday is my first day as Editor-in-Chief, my scheduleâs not as busy as it was.â
It was nice to hear that. The way they have obviously chosen to grow into themselves together. She was glad that in her perfect world she hadnât forgotten about Jess and Sam.
âOh, and also you spend most of your days in our home lab with Jack anyway. So, the pets get plenty of love.â
âJackyâs alive here?â
âYeah, you reversed the nanotech matrix. You saved him.â
And the crying fest begins anew.Â
âI miss him, so much.â
âIâm sorry.â
Lena doesnât have to explain her reaction, Kara knows how to read her anyway.
At the reminder of Jack, Lena finds the courage to ask a question sheâs never thought she would want to ask.
âWhat about Lex and Lillian?â
âWell, your brotherâs probably drunk in an L-Corp gala somewhere and Lillianâs probably plotting about how sheâs going to insult my next article-â
So, she still has her brother and it seems like Lillianâs not much of a xenophobe as she is in reality but she senses that she still is a bad mother with the way Kara talks.
âWhen did we get married?â
âTwo years after we first met. We had two, actually.â
âIâm guessing I insisted on a Kryptonian wedding and you insisted on a human one?â
She knows that one, because sheâs been thinking about it. Well, at least she was before everything went to shit. She wanted to give Kara a Kryptonian ceremony. She had wanted to show her that Lena would be honored to share everything Karaâs world had to offer.
âAre we-â she hesitated, âAre we happy, Kara?â
She wasted no time in answering, âThe happiest. You make me the happiest soul alive in this universe and in any universe.â
Fresh tears fall down the side of her face and Kara wipes them away before speaking, âCan I ask you a question?â
âWell, I guess itâs only fair.â Lena sniffles and prepares her mind for what she knows will be an emotionally-charged exchange not that this has been an easy conversation thus far.
âOut there, are you happy?â
Lenaâs air is stolen from her. Well, she doesnât know how to answer that one.Â
âSometimes,â she whispers. Sheâs not happy most of the time but sometimes she is.
Sometimes, Ruby calls her to tell her about a science project or sometimes Nia sends her meme even though she hasnât been to Game Nights for almost a year now, sometimes Brainy takes her out for a drink and she feels like sheâs got a little brother to call her own.Â
So yeah, sometimes. Because the thought of perpetual happiness without Kara in her life is impossible.Â
âOnly sometimes?â Kara asks, brow furrowing.
âYeah, only sometimes. Not like it matters, anyway.â
âWell, of course it matters! Your happiness matters!â Kara exclaims, old habits die hard what can she say?
But then Kara takes a turn from defensive to curious again, âAm I happy? Out there? I mean?âÂ
âI- I have no idea.â
Lena waits for the answer to sink in to Kara.Â
âWhat? What do you mean you have no idea?â
âRemember when I said I hurt you?âÂ
Kara gives her a nod.
âWell, I havenât seen you for a long time. Iâve been avoiding you. Normally people tend to not seek out their exes, you know.âÂ
Sheâs trying to keep it lighthearted. Sheâs trying not to let this Kara see how much she craves her presence, how much she wishes she could see Kara again. Donât get her wrong, Supergirl is plastered every minute on the news, but-Â
Thatâs not who she wants to see.Â
âSheâs miserable,â Kara answers point-blank leaving no room for argument, âIf youâve been avoiding me, Iâd be miserable.â
That has Lena speechless.Â
Because miserable would be an understatement of how things had been ever since they ended things.Â
Ever since Lena ended things.Â
âI donât like not being with you, you know?â Kara states as if Lena doesnât feel the same.
âI- I donât like that either.â
âI know.â
She has to go. Lena knows she has to go but Kara is looking at her so sincerely and she can feel the love and she knows this is nothing but an intricate trap formed by an alien parasite slowly killing her. She has to go but-
âLena!âÂ
The both of them are startled and four eyes immediately land to-
Kara?! No, not Kara. Supergirl.
âSupergirl,â She says; surprise coloring her voice. She didnât know Supergirl would go in and save her. Hell, she didnât even know how she found her. But then again, sheâs tried solving the puzzle that is Kara Zor-El but had never been able to piece it together.Â
Supergirl takes a look at her doppelganger in bed with Lena; a scene so familiar to her. A scene sheâs replayed again and again in her head. A scene that was once their reality then a memory and now an illusion. She takes a step closer.
âLena, we have to go, please. Please believe me, this isnt-âÂ
â-real,â Lena finishes for her and Supegirl looks stunned, âI know, Supergirl. I know how to reject my own fantasy. Iâve had plenty of practice, after all.â
She aims for sarcasm, because fucking fucking hell, how the fuck does anybody expect her to function if there were two Karaâs in front of her?
That was asking for too much.Â
Beside her, Kara had gone silent. It seems like she knows what comes next. She knows what Supergirl intends to do. Theyâre the same person after all.Â
âItâs okay,â Lena hears Kara say and she breaks away from the heroâs gaze to find Kara looking at her with those eyes again.
âItâs okay, Lena,â She repeats, âItâs okay, Supergirlâs here. Youâre gonna be safe. Stay safe for me, yeah?â
âLena we have to go. Now,â Supergirl commands from the other side of the room.Â
âOkay, yeah,â She whispers then she turns to Supergirl, âJust give me a chance to say goodbye, please?â
Supergirl stares at her for a moment then at Kara then she gives them both a nod and turns back to give them privacy.
âLast question?â
âHit me.â
âWhatâs your surname?â
âLuthor.â
Fuck. She shouldnât feel this surprised but damn, hearing Kara confirm it? Lena doesnât know how to feel about that. She doesnât know how to feel about all of this.Â
âJust like you promised.â
âJust like I promised.âÂ
The words are echoed back to her and Lena hates the way sheâs noticed how stiff Supergirlâs posture had become in her periphery. Ignores the fact that Supergirl has superhearing.Â
âThank you for indulging me, Kara.â
âAlways.â
Goodbye, darling.â
And then everything fades to black.
authorâs note: hiya lovely people send me an ask if i should write a follow-up for this.
#supercorp ficlet#supercorp ficlet of sorts ig?#it's another black mercy au y'all#it's very angsty#the reckless writer somewhat writes??#the reckless writer writes#lena luthor#kara danvers#supercorp#rcklss writes
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HP Rare Pair Fest Recs <3
The @hprarepairfest has ended for 2022 đą and, oh goodness, was there some great fics. SO MANY great fics. Here are some of my favorites. You can check out the rest of the AO3 collection HERE.
Light & Fluffy (funny, feel-good, & sweet)
Unique Armature by @banana-ge-ge & brightened [Sirius Black/Severus Snape, E, 5.4k] â„ You ever wanted a fic about mutual tattoos and boys being dumb? Well, look no further! Snark and banter and Sirius being Sirius. PLUS ART!
Summer Respite by @nightfalltwen [Hermione Granger/Viktor Krum, T, 5.6k] â„ Hermione goes to visit Viktor in Bulgaria after the war. Great characters, great setting, and great fic overall!
Welcome to the Family by @danni-the-puff [Lucius Malfoy/Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Malfoy, M, 4.6k] â„ Draco's parents are swingers and Draco is about to find out in the most embarrassing way possible. Just 4k words of me snickering at Draco's dramatics.
Nicely Toasted (angst with fluff)
What would you like? by @orange-peony [Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter, E, 14.1] â„ Explores Teddy's insecurities as a metamorphmagus and his hidden feelings for a certain roommate. Sweet and lonely and sexy, the perfect combo.
The Cost of Survival by @vdoshu [Barty Crouch Jr./Peter Pettigrew, M, 11.1k] â„ A look into Peter's path to the Death Eaters through a relationship with Barty. Their relationship and characterization is just amazing! You really get to understand Peter's motivations, even if you don't agree with them.
Lovingly Named by @m0srael [Minerva McGonagall/Mrs. Norris, E, 11.9k] â„ Mrs. Norris is actually a beautiful witch with a blood malediction. Story follows her relationship with Minerva and Minerva's quest to cure her. Gorgeous and moving with a HEA.
Slightly Charred (might make you cry but worth it)
Shades of Dawn by @corvuscrowned [Lavender Brown/Ginny Weasley, E, 2.6k] â„ Werewolf!Lavender, bisexual!Ginny, hot smut, and well-written angst. A beautiful read with such heart-wrenching imagery that you'll feel like you're in the middle of it all.
Faintly Touched, Just Breathed on By Light by mouldy_voldy [Hermione Granger/Theodore Nott, M, 15.8k] â„ Secret relationships, sixth year, angst and tragedy. A stunning look at a budding relationship and then watching it all fall apart. Definitely a tear-jerker, but so good. (Warnings: MCD, grief/mourning)
Flaming Hot đ„đ„đ„ (gonna make you sweat đ„”)
Take Me, Big Daddy by @greenmegsnoham [Rubeus Hagrid/Gilderoy Lockhart, E, 4.1k] â„ Gilderoy just wants some big dick and Hagrid happens to have just that. Gilderoy's flirting and the sex, OH MY GOD. Size kink, daddy kink, shame kink. *passes out from overheating* (Warnings: VERY rough sex)
Our Love (He's a Changed Man) by @maraudersaffair [Harry Potter/Severus Snape/Percy Weasley, E, 3.6k] â„ Snarry as Hogwarts Professors in an established relationship. They want to bring Percy into the fold and it's as hot as it sounds while also being surprisingly sweet. As in it's HOT AS HELL.
Note: click to expand for the darker fics with possibly triggering content
Burnt Beyond Repair (proceed with caution đ)
An O in Potions by @diandrastrikesback [Gilderoy Lockhart/Severus Snape, E, 2.6k] â„ Gilderoy wants an O and Professor Snape is going to give it to him. This is just so in character for Gilderoy. A creepy, sexy, hilarious read. (Warnings: Rape/non-con elements, memory alteration, blackmailing)
Note: and because I STILL can't help myself, here's my fic for the fest! I'm really proud of this one!! It might make you cry though, so be warned.
Self-Rec (by me @lumosatnight | lumosatnight)
Your Cigarette Smell [Sirius Black/Narcissa Malfoy, E, 9.7k] â„ Sirius and Narcissa slide into an intensely sexual relationship soon after Sirius leaves Hogwarts. But what is the cost of love in the middle of a growing war? Angst and porn. (Warnings: rough sex, infidelity, MCD)
#hp fic rec#hp fanfic#fic recs#hp rare pairs#hp recs#hp rec list#hp fest recs#lumosinthelibrary#rec list
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