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hangmanssunnies · 2 years ago

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Good Comes In 3

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: 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.

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. My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well. 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.

"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.

"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.

"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,"

"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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said.

"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites.

"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again.

"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together.

"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.

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.

"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours.

"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."

"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.

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.

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.

Now, after 6 and ½ 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.

You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you – 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 – 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.

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.

…

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.

"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.

"Oh, can I come with?"

"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you.

"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.

"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"

"I'm going to meet an old friend."

"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."

"And?"

"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." "Farmer's Market is on the list?"

"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his ‘duh-voice’ 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.

"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad.

"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items.

"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.

"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck."

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."

"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.

"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors.

"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains.

"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it.

"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,

"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes.

"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues.

"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.

"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.

"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"

"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug.

"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.

"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."

"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused.

"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him.

"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.

"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly.

"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."

"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.

"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.

"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests.

"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify.

"Both, please."

"Can do."

"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.

"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.

"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.

"That's good. I appreciate you."

"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.

"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.

"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again.

"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here."

"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.

"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says.

"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.

"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend."

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.

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.

"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.

"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.

"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully.

"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing."

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.

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.

"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.

"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake.

"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains.

"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him.

Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea."

"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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper."

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.

"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.

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.

"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 –" 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.

"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.

"What?" you gasp.

"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.

"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."

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.

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.

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"

"I know and–" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you.

"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.

"It's purple," you say, eyes widening.

"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."

"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask.

"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."

"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.

"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."

"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."

"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"You loved them both," you remind Jake.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

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.

"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise."

"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.

"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad.

"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.

"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.

"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?"

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.

…

"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion."

"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.

"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."

"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone.

"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet."

"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.

"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking."

"So Javy is involved?" You clarify.

"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.

"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh.

"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 ‘we haven't seen each other in six months’ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!"

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.

"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?"

"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.

"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.

"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard.

"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.

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."

When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?"

"Not a word," you respond solemnly.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

"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?"

"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms.

"I thought it was going to be this evening."

"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute."

"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either.

"He will be okay," Javy says lightly.

"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt.

"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.

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.

"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door.

You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jake– 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.

"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.

"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?"

"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.

"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this.

"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?"

"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."

"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."

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.

"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open.

"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.

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.

"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke.

"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh.

"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.

"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.

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.

"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.

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.

"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says.

"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you."

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."

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."

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.

"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.

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.

"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.

"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.

"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me."

"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests.

"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better.

"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.

"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air.

"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.

"You know exactly why."

Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you.

"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."

"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly.

"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

"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?"

"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, I—"

"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.

"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.

"Are you—" 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.

"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."

"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin.

"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.

"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.'

"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains.

"Jake, I really…" 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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

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. 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. 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.

"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.

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.

You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked.

"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door.

"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.

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.

"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet.

"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?"

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.

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.

"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case.

"It's too soft for me right now."

"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly.

"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.

"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically.

"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully.

"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration.

"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.

"No, we really don't," You contradict him.

"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked.

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.

"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."

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.

"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think."

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.

"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before."

"Before?" He asks.

"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.

"You want to pretend nothing happened?"

"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.

"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously.

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?"

"Sugar," You correct automatically.

"Hmm?"

"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets"

"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."

"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either.

"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually.

"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.

"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again.

"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm.

"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.

"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.

"The answer is yes," you tell him casually.

"You don't know what the question is."

"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.

"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease.

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.

"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.

"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks.

"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely.

"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?"

"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."

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.

"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch.

"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you.

"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.

"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.

"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps.

"A promise?" You question.

"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.

"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn.

"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.

…

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.

"Oh okay. Do you know how long?"

"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.

"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.

"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.

You hurry after him, "Jake?"

"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory.

"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised.

"Yes, I packed earlier today."

"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly.

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.

"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."

"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms, draping them high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.

"How's the next part going again, sweets?"

"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest.

"Now?" He whispers.

"You would probably kiss my forehead."

"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily.

"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.

"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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

"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."

"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.

"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."

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 that 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.

"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes.

"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room.

"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis.

"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.

"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."

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.

"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.

"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.

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.

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 you 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 room trying to find a suitable escape path.

"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up, 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.

"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 ‘get things done’ demeanor.

"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?"

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.

"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess.

"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.

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.

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I should have waited and asked you before changing the living room."

"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?"

"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."

"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head in a small no. 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.

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.

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.

"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him.

"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly.

"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 routines. 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.

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.

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.

You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would have 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.

Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body heat. However, it is the feeling, the 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.

"Sugar pie?"

"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietly

"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"

"No."

"Our mental health?"

"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." You tell him. Jake nods along, in understanding with your words.

"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?"

"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.

"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.

"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pie—"

"I called you Huckleberry pie once and—"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off.

"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."

"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 ar, and you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters hiding those sad green eyes from you.

"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.

"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders.

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.

"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.

"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.

"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow.

"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later.

"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(™)."

As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world. Suddenly, 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 as you trace the shape of one. Your left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump.

"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.

"It was before Annapolis."

"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and resting your check against his bicep.

"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.

"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly.

"I had to take friendship classes in middle school."

"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information.

"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."

"Something like that," Jake laughs back.

"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.

"You are going to be mad," he starts.

"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.

"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?"

"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.

"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know.

"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."

"I just want to make things better for you."

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."

"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 not the laugh you were hoping for.

"You are probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet for a long time as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil of the night.

Eventually, You ask, "Jake, where are you?"

"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath.

"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no.

"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."

"So, where are you?"

"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers.

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 would 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.

"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.

"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."

"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly.

"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water.

"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.

"It would."

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.

"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him.

"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body.

"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.

You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. You sit so your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake close 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."

"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.

"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.

"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions.

"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.

Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then he 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.

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. 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 relieved to be done.

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.

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.

"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.

"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more.

"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips.

"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper.

"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.

"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 is almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled 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.

"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask.

"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."

"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly.

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?"

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, no… 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 is so warm, and itis so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones. Falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake, even there in your dream you realize that still might not be enough.

…

Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry again, Tumblr wouldn't let me put it all here (and that it's so long). My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #house we share #jake seresin x you #hangman x you #gci3 #good comes in 3

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skzoologist · 1 year ago

Note

HI HI HIIII! IS YOUR REQUEST STILL OPEN? (checked your profile but I had to ask again because what if u forgot to close it? 😭) ANYWWWWAY

Can I ask the reaction (crack or fluff just skz being proud of our bby bae) of skz to Bae dancing EXO's 'The Eve' or 'Artificial Love'?

TENCHUUU (づ￣ ³￣)づ

word count: ~1.2k

warnings: sensual dance (for the shy ones like me)

genre: crack

a/n: Hey-ho anon, don't you worry! I basically live on this hellsite, I'm here everyday, updating my blog. Now, onto your request. The way I just watched the videos so I knew what to write about like this: 😳🫣. What can I say, I get flustered easily too. Also I wasn't sure in what format you wanted the reactions, in a little drabble like this, or written down per member, so I'm sorry if this is not what you wanted (i'm still not versed in the ways of running a blog). I hope you'll enjoy this! (Also yes, I know the gif isn't matching, I just couldn't find one from this dance)

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

The band was on their 3rd Fanmeeting, the crowds overly ecstatic wherever they went. There was a certain buzz in the air, amplifying the cheering and shouting even more than usual.

And the boys were absolutely thriving on it, adrenaline coursing through their veins in dangerous amounts, pushing them to perform on those bright stages for endless hours with no problem.

Bae was no different, his stage persona flawless, the perfect and cold mask on his face never even wavering. Fans shouted his name with all their might amidst their performances to different songs, trying to grab his attention, even if it was only for a split second. It never worked, the male too focused on doing well and dancing with all his might, executing the moves with scary precision. The fans were used to it by now, never expecting the idol to actually smile at them with a finger heart or even a wink sent their way, those actions suiting the other members much more. The tall otter was way too shy to do that, especially amidst dancing.

After the band performed the well-known and fan favourite dances that belonged to a few of their selected songs in Seoul, it was time for a little break and fanservice. Small chairs were brought up onto the stage, easily lifted and moved thanks to their light build. Everyone took their respective seats, Bae having his between Chan and Changbin. Not like it mattered anyway, the boys always kept switching up their seats and who they sat next to amidst the chaos.

And chaos, it was.

Bae knew what was going to happen, of course he did, having helped the others practise with the choreography, but it still didn’t take away the shock factor of seeing it live, right in front of him up on the stage.

It started with ‘Queencard’ by (G)I-DLE, the two males next to him standing up and walking to the centre of their little half-circle they had decided to sit in. Bae couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face, seeing his bandmates perform so wonderfully, all those practices having paid off. But he also couldn’t help the way his eyes widened at certain moves, the skin on his ears undoubtedly already turning red. It only became worse once the song ended, Chan and Changbin going to sit back down and noticing his slightly flustered state.

He tried his best to ignore those giggles around him.

Focusing back in front of him, Bae suddenly wished he didn’t. The sight of Felix and Hyunjin dancing to ‘The Eve’ by EXO caught him off-guard, still not having fully recovered from the previous dance. Their moves were flawless, of course they were, being proud members of Danceracha, and the watching idol was extremely proud of them. He remembered which parts were tricky for who, both proudly skipping over to him when they had finally pulled them off.

But the moves were also sensual, way too much for the shy little otter. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off of them, gaze stuck in place and meeting with Hyunjin’s. The younger winked at him just as he performed the last hip roll, not knowing how much damage he had done to Bae’s brain.

By the end of the song Bae’s skin became several shades darker, the red extremely evident and vibrant on it. This naturally meant that everyone could see it easily, teasing him endlessly and with no mercy. It was a miracle in itself that he hadn’t exploded at all.

“Come on Bae hyung, why not dance it as well?” - Felix slyly added, wiggling his eyebrows. “N-no, I couldn’t–” - Bae tried to defend himself, only to have Hyunjin cut him off. “You’d basically learnt it with us, with how much you helped us. Come on Hyung, please?”

And who was he to say no to those eyes?

With a silent sigh, Bae closed his eyes and tried to cool himself down. Those boggled thoughts slowly detangled from each other, leaving his mind tidy and focused. The memories of each practice flashed before his closed eyelids, all in perfect order and great detail.

When he opened his eyes again he had already been standing in Felix and Hyunjin’s place, the attention of the crowd and his members all on him. A quiet breath left his lips, a hand carding through his hair as the song started up again, signalling that it was time.

Bae’s body moved in perfect rhythm, as if it was a well-oiled machine. Not a single step or flick of a hand was out of place, his mind on autopilot with only the thought of dancing floating in its entirety. He felt the tight leather pants constrict with each movement, the slit on the back of his shirt opening and flashing a bit of skin when he turned around.

As the song ended so did his focus, eyes blinking and seeing the cheering crowd as he was putting his hand down from his ending pose. Although somehow the ones next to him were much louder, something that should have been impossible to achieve.

“I TOLD YOU YOU COULD DO IT!” - Felix shouted, a smile on his lips so wide, Bae was afraid it would split his face in two. “Wah, I never knew our baby otter could dance like that!” - Chan said, all giggles and chuckles as he affectionately squeezed Bae’s shoulder. “I think you just killed a few people here, Dal hyung.” - Jeongin added in, Seungmin wholeheartedly agreeing.

At the head tilt of the flustered member, the puppy pointed at the remaining four members who laid on the floor, seemingly dead. Jisung kept glancing up occasionally, successfully catching Bae’s gaze.

“Yah, warn us before moving like that! Those hips are deadly, man.” - he accused, even pointing a finger at the poor man.

“I don’t think I can recover from this.” - agreed Hyunjin, dramatically draping an arm over his forehead.

“Guys, I think Binnie and Lino hyung actually died. They haven’t moved since then.” - Felix added in, sweatdropping at the situation.

The boy was right, as the two didn’t react even when Chan and Seungmin had shaken them. Only when Bae was nearby did they seemingly resurrect, latching onto his legs and gazing up at the blushing male with stars and adoration in their eyes.

“Marry me, jagi.” - the two said almost perfectly at the same time, even the petname they used matched.

Minho and Changbin glared at each other, all the while Bae became an absolute flustered mess, skin flushed all the way down to his neck and chest. The others enjoyed the show, maybe a bit too much, relishing in the fact that Bae had finally let up on stage for a bit. Most of them didn’t hesitate to join in and shower the tall idol with praises, only worsening his condition as he just stood there, hands covering his face so at least STAY wouldn’t see him.

He couldn’t let that happen, not in a million years. Let him have the remains of his dignity, if not anything else.

67 notes · View notes

maeamian · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 5,544 times in 2022

169 posts created (3%)

5,375 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@kelpforestdwellers

@chibi-oneiros

@beingatoaster

@cipheramnesia

@dykeredhood

I tagged 1,223 of my posts in 2022

#lmao - 24 posts

#lol - 21 posts

#:3 - 9 posts

#yeah - 7 posts

#great post op - 5 posts

#yeah... - 5 posts

#o7 - 5 posts

#this guy gets it - 4 posts

#it doesn't stop being magic just because you know how it works - 4 posts

#cymru am byth - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#maybe the biggest change will come when we won't have to change much at all / when maniacs holler 'grow grow grow' we can choose to be small

My Top Posts in 2022:

Got jury duty coming up? What better time than now to learn about the extremely cool and good things you can do on that jury if you get empaneled? (because learning about them after you've been empaneled is a crime)

710 notes - Posted September 11, 2022

Hey gang, guess what!

Chicken Butt

🐔🍑

847 notes - Posted November 27, 2022

Not sure I'm the exact right person for this oral history, but since the birdsite is imploding and advertisers might fucking try some shit over here it's a good time for all of us to remember everyone's favorite meme: "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people”

Back in '16 or so, Denny's had a reasonably large presence on this site, from a non-artistic standpoint it's fair to say that whoever was running that blog did a pretty good job of keeping up to date on the current memes and staying relevant. Many of us, myself included, kinda just got used to them being here and let it happen, gave it little thought, maybe gave it a chuckle from time to time. At some point someone was like 'actually it sucks that a major corporation is trying to hang out with us and be our friend, they were, of course, absolutely right, and their genius response was to create a meme that they couldn't fucking coopt, hence "John C Miller, CEO and President of the Denny's Corporation, is a Capitalist Running Dog and his wealth must be seized and redistributed to the people" became the fun new thing.

"Coopt this you old so and so" was the idea and it worked pretty well, they did try it, but in a way that clearly was dancing around the central premise everyone knew they wouldn't be able to engage with. They stuck around for a little while longer, but it was clearly a major turning point in their ability to use this site to hang out with us, a good thing.

The point, as advertisers try to find new, less feral places to spend their advertising budgets, is that we don't have to just ignore them, that's a good start, but we can bite their fucking hands if they try it. We do not have to play nice with advertisers trying to be our friends, we can be feral.

Anyhow, I definitely am not positive I've gotten every detail right, so if there's any major corrections anyone needs to add, feel free, memedoccumentation had a post about it that helped me refresh my memory although my analysis of aspects differ from this point in history, as it were, but if you want to read up a bit more this is a solid starting point that has some fun examples

1,325 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

Happy 13 year anniversary (July 25th 2022) to the last time the United States raised its Federal Minimum Wage! In an astounding and unacceptable transfer of wealth to the already wealthy, it's lost a full 27% of its purchasing power since then!!

7,355 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

BTW don't click any NYT links today (December 8th 2022), the NYT Union have called for a digital boycott in support of their 24 hour walk-out

10,405 notes - Posted December 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #lmao my number 1 post is literally one I made this morning great work everyone

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bentnotbroken1fanfiction · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 768 times in 2022

That's 521 more posts than 2021!

54 posts created (7%)

714 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@memes-saved-me

@bentnotbroken1fanfiction

@meowmeowbilly

@lazybakerart

@ariesbilly

I tagged 179 of my posts in 2022

#harringrove - 49 posts

#billy hargrove - 44 posts

#steve harrington - 25 posts

#writing - 11 posts

#max mayfield - 9 posts

#fanfiction - 8 posts

#bruises - 8 posts

#lol - 8 posts

#stranger things - 8 posts

#bruises on both my knees for you - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 127 characters

#fanfic writers and readers are the only ones that care so much about him that we see every fucked up thing that happened to him

My Top Posts in 2022:

Posting something that I added to AO3 a long time ago but can't find on my blog. If you've already read it, sorry. But I thought I'd add it to tumblr while I wait to finish some things I'm working on.

Billy lights a cigarette. Not because he needs one, he doesn't need much of anything anymore, but to give his mouth something to do while he fills Harrington's grave with dirt.

The pretty boy owes him big time for this. Billy had plans for tonight. Plans that he had to cancel because someone decided to stumble into a den of the undead. And yeah, he didn't have to drag his bitten and dying ass out here and give him his blood, but he couldn't just let an ass as fine as that become little more than a snack.

And sure , maybe his reasons for doing this are that shallow, but he's still doing him a solid. Billy never wanted to sire anyone, so this is totally out of character for him to begin with. Harrington is damn lucky he's still pretty.

He heaves more dirt over him.

Why the fuck was he even at that warehouse anyway? He had zero business being on that side of town, on his side of town. Maybe he should ask him once he climbs his way free. Then smack him upside the head for being a complete moron. Who walks into empty creepy buildings in the middle of the night?

Harrington apparently.

IU must not have a class on street smarts.

He huffs a laugh at the thought of the boy taking that kind of class as he continues his work, and it only takes a few more seconds to fill it all in.

He pats the dirt with the shovel and smirks, "Sleep tight, sweetheart. See you tomorrow."

Harrington crawls into his new life as gracefully as Billy thought he would, which is not at all . He stumbles away from the grave on shaky legs and searches around frantically, fear and panic evident on his dirt smeared face. Once he sees Billy sitting on the hood of his Camaro, his eyes grow comically wide.

"What the fuck? What the fuck is going on? Did I just climb out of a fucking grave? Did you bury me alive, Hargrove?"

"Calm down, Princess. I saved your sorry ass. You'd be a bloodless corpse in a basement right now if I hadn't gotten you out of there."

"Out of where? What are you talking about?"

"Holy shit, you have no idea what you walked in on, do you?"

Confused, he answers, "No?"

"Jesus Christ, you really are an idiot." He throws the other boy a towel to get some of the grime off his skin.

"Gee, thanks." He scowls, but he takes the offering and starts wiping himself off.

Billy sighs, "I don't know why you were at that warehouse, Harrington, but whoever sent you probably wanted you to die," He watches the towel pause on his face, "or at the very least, beat to shit."

"I was there to hook up with a guy." He admits quietly. "He picked the meet up place."

And Billy knows he was the only human in that building last night, so that means that one of the other vampires had set him up. It's not like Billy's never hooked up with a dinner date, but that wasn't what was going on there. He had thought it was just an accident and that they had gotten carried away. But no, they had planned to suck him dry until Billy intervened.

It pisses him off because they don't have to do that anymore. They don't have to wait so long between feedings now. They don't get so lost in their hunger that they kill all of their meals. So killing humans these days is unnecessary. It's an archaic practice that Billy despises.

Fuck.

Now he would have to watch out for those bastards.

"I know it was stupid, and I should have left when I saw how creepy the place was, but I just really needed to get laid."

He laughs at that. He can't help it. "I wouldn't have thought King Steve would end up literally dying for some dick."

"Oh, fuck you, Hargrove." He growls. "Act like you don't gag for it too."

Billy raises a brow. "Gag for it, huh? No, I'm not the one gagging, pretty boy."

See the full post

138 notes - Posted June 5, 2022

Posting a little bit of that Harringrove A/B/O I wrote last night. It needs some work but it's been fun working on it.

The first thing that Billy notices when he walks into his assigned cabin is that there is an odd smell in the air. It's faint. Nothing super obvious. Nothing harsh or musty, but just…different. Almost pleasant. He was prepared for all the insane amounts of Alpha pheromones permeating the camp grounds, the testosterone, even the B.O., so it was a welcome scent to be honest.

He quickly forgets about it though, when he leaves to sign in and get the schedule for this weeks activities and the list of campers under his watch.

But at the mess hall later, his nose twitches and he realizes that he's picking up the same scent he found in the cabin. It seems slightly familiar now…and it's coming from the camp counselors table.

He isn't sure who it's coming from, but now that he's closer to the source he can pick up the familiar underlying smell…it almost smells like Max when she…

But there's no way. This is an Alpha camp. It's impossible for anyone to get in without having already presented…but yet…he's definitely picking up omega.

He looks around in alarm trying to see if anyone else is noticing this. But everyone is laughing, eating, and horsing around. He's the only one that seems to be bothered.

What the fuck is going on? Maybe he's imagining things. He's gotta be.

Right?

Yeah. He's just sensitive lately. That's all.

So he ignores the feeling in his gut that something isn't right and eats his dinner and jokes with the other counselors and tries to hide the fact that his nose is tingling and his skin is itchy.

But later, when he walks back into the cabin to meet the brats he's in charge of, he stops dead in his tracks. He can't ignore his instinct here.

It's Jasmine…and honey…and something woodsy. And while it's not really strong, it's concentrated and more noticeable.

The other counselor assigned to this cabin is already chatting with the kids and when he looks over to Billy he lifts a hand in greeting and Billy just knows.

It's him. It's definitely him.

He's the one.

Billy introduces himself.

Turns out, the guys name is Steve Harrington and he's about to be a senior at Hawkins High. He's in the program to gain some extra curriculars for his college resume.

And he's the prettiest thing that Billy has ever seen.

But he can't ask questions here. They've got a cabin full of newly presented 13 and 14 year olds. It's not the time or place to discuss this.

So he just stays awake all night, keeping watch. Just in case.

But nothing happens.

That day or the next.

But Billy does notice that as the days pass, the smell strengthens a little and now it's affecting him. It puts him on edge. Makes him want to get close. Makes him want to protect…and that is not something that happens to him.

So he's gotta be right.

The only problem is that he doesn't know how to go about this. Steve Harrington seems to be pretty popular among the staff, the counselors, and the kids alike. He's asked around and he found out he's somewhat of a leader at his school. Nickname King Steve.

So someone like that? Probably wouldn't want someone like Billy questioning him about his status.

But he can't ignore it. It would be wrong. So he musters up the courage to approach him one night after the kids go to bed and they're all hanging out by the fire.

"Hey, Harrington. Got a minute?"

See the full post

147 notes - Posted June 10, 2022

So for me, Steve's six little nuggets speech was less endearing and more upsetting. Mostly because of the reason behind him wanting that so badly.

The boy is lonely as fuck.

He wants a big family so he won't ever be alone again. If he has kids, he will always have someone to love and who loves him unconditionally no matter what.

So, yeah. It more broke my heart than made me go "Aw Steve. He's so adorable wanting a bunch of kids and an RV to go on road trips with. UwU."

194 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Based on this lovely art by @angryhuangyu

Just imagine Billy waking up in Steve's body...

He would wake up and stretch...and realize his ribs don't hurt like they should. His head isn't throbbing and his lip isn't pulling tight. It's strange because, after the argument last night, they definitely should be. So he opens his eyes and is met with an unfamiliar ceiling in an unfamiliar room. But when he looks in the mirror he does see a familiar face.

And of course, there's a freak out because what the actually fuck, but he would quickly deduce that if he's in Harrington's body, that means Harrington is in his.

And if Billy had a typical white picket fence family, he would totally take the opportunity that fate has given him and run with it. He would love to just fuck with King Steve. He would love to just relax in his castle, drinking fancy booze, watching TV, and taking a dip in that sweet inviting swimming pool.

But he doesn't have that kind of family.

He doesn't have a nice suburban dad that thrives on a strong sense of family and community. He has the kind that thrives on pain and punishment.

Which means Harrington is in serious trouble. Because he knows that he's going to wake up and wonder why he feels like shit. He's going to get up and try to leave. (He won't be able to because Billy is grounded.) He will come face to face with his Dad, not knowing what he can and can't say, not knowing the rules.

He's going to say or do something wrong.

And then he's quickly going to find out the secret Billy has been trying so fucking hard to keep.

And yeah, that fact would be irritating and embarrassing as fuck, but that's not what has him in a panic trying to find the stupid keys to the Beemer.

It's the fact that as much shit as Billy gives him, Harrington doesn't deserve to be on the receiving side of Neil Hargrove's anger.

No one but Billy does.

199 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

It's been so long since Billy has heard another person's voice, but now he hears her. Soft but clear in the red tinted darkness.

"Dear, Billy."

It's Max.

His heart beats just a little faster because that's impossible. She can't be here. No one can be here. No one but him. Him and the monster.

But despite what he knows as a fact, his ears are still picking up that ghostly sound.

"I don't know if you can even hear this."

He follows it. Drawn like a moth to a flame. It's not like he wants Max to be subjected to this hellscape, but…

He stops where the voice is the loudest.

At a gravestone….

With his name on it.

What the fuck?

"Ever since you left, everything's been," she pauses, "….a total disaster."

He looks around. She's not actually there, but he can still sense her presence.

What the hell is going on?

He waits for her to keep going, but can only hear her quiet breaths, so he sits down, back against the mossy stone slab.

Waiting.

"For awhile we tried to be happy," she finally continues, "Normal. "

There's so much pain in that word. Even though he can't see her, he knows she's been suffering.

"I know that's impossible…too much has happened…nothing will ever be normal again…"

Billy understands. God how he understands.

"I just…" her voice falters. "I just hope that at least you're finally happy…wherever you are."

His throat tightens, because he's not…He's not happy. And…

"I'm right here, Max." He whispers to the empty space before him. "I'm right here."

252 notes - Posted April 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I suck at tagging lol #and I reblog myself 😂

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sleepyspoonie · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 1,161 times in 2022

17 posts created (1%)

1,144 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@zenosanalytic

@renthony

@saltedswan

@queerpyracy

@curiouscarnifex

I tagged 699 of my posts in 2022

Only 40% of my posts had no tags

#the locked tomb - 136 posts

#ntn spoilers - 63 posts

#mauveen tag - 59 posts

#revka tag - 35 posts

#ollivander tag - 34 posts

#homestuck - 33 posts

#lysette tag - 26 posts

#animals - 20 posts

#pride tag - 17 posts

#poetry - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#and also taped up a conversion chart in the closet next to our dresser that does celsius to fahrenheit so they can actually understand the

My Top Posts in 2022:

was DISTRAUGHT because the quilt my mom made when she was a teenager seemingly got lost in the move to our new house, and we couldn't find it anywhere in any of the boxes or in our old apartment

i cried the whole way home and my wife made it their mission in life to find this thing, bc it's one of my most cherished irreplaceable possessions, and naturally my wife Does Not Want Me To Be Sad. promises to open every box, go through the car, root through the roomie's stuff, the works

they were horrified to find out they were the criminal the whole time, when they found it in a suitcase they had stuffed under the bed without ever checking to see what was inside of it 😳

19 notes - Posted June 21, 2022

me: our anniversary is coming up soon my wife: yeah :3 me: we've been married almost three years my wife: yeah :3 me: and you only just realized today that i have heterochromia my wife: SHUT UP!!! ):

25 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

my wife has lost their voice and whenever I don't do what they want they just aggressively wave this post in my face

25 notes - Posted December 3, 2022

Help, a young dragon decided my root cellar is her new lair, what do I do? (URGENT)

107 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

i don't know who needs to hear this, but you can refuse to be weighed at the doctor's office. they don't need it to evaluate anything about you unless you're getting anesthetized or something, so if having your weight taken at the doctor's office stresses you out, consider asking to opt out of the process to save yourself the anxiety or triggering experience.

your weight is actually only documented for insurance purposes because insurance companies require doctors to gather a certain number of biometrics to get reimbursed for your appointment. you can just refuse to be weighed and they'll just take another metric instead.

this is especially valuable for fat people and people with or recovering from eating disorders, but it can also be beneficial for anyone who simply doesn't want to be subjected to scrutiny about their weight when trying to get treatment for an unrelated issue. If the doctor really needs your weight for a specific treatment, they'll let you know.

here are a few ways you can tell your doctor's team that you don't want to be weighed:

"i'd like to decline to be weighed."

"could you please add a note to my file that I'd like to decline being weighed for all future appointments?"

"i'm in recovery for an eating disorder, and I need a note added to my file that i shouldn't be weighed when i come to your office. could you help me get that added?"

"i should have a note in my file stating that I don't want to be weighed." (if you're being asked after you've already told them to note it for you)

please feel free to spread the word around! fatphobes dni.

#cw weight discussion | #cw weight bias | #cw doctors | #cw medical | #cw medical fatphobia

216 notes - Posted July 19, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #I really went all in on the locked tomb this year lmao

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cybertronianbunny · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 164 times in 2022

That's 164 more posts than 2021!

31 posts created (19%)

133 posts reblogged (81%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@optimaprime8

@decepti-thots

@petitelepus

@hysterical-random-things

@whosafraidofthedjd

I tagged 6 of my posts in 2022

#star wars - 3 posts

#recipe - 3 posts

#youtube - 1 post

#transformers - 1 post

#wolfdog - 1 post

#animals - 1 post

Longest Tag: 12 characters

#transformers

My Top Posts in 2022:

Cute lil meeting for my oc vivace and minimus ambus done by @petitelepus thank you 😊

Minimus Ambus blinked in shock. He was currently out of his protective Ultra Magnus' armor and standing in front of the said armor as he was when Vivace had entered his habsuite. The young Autobot recruit blinked as he stared at the green Minibot and a blush rose to his cheeks.

"I- I knocked!" The young mech stuttered before turning around and averting his heterochromatic optics from the green little Autobot.

Minimus was absolutely devastated but before he could shout or cry out, Vivace left and made sure to lock the door behind him. Minimus blinked before getting into his armor...

A couple of hours went by and Vivace was trying to forget what he saw since it wasn't something he was supposed to see. He tried to forget, but even engex couldn't destroy the memory of the attractive little green Bot from his mind.

"Give me another." He said to Swerve who nodded and went to prepare his drink. Vivace waited patiently but suddenly a huge shadow covered him and he turned around to see Ultra Magnus himself looking down on him.

"Vivace, I'm in need of your assistance." The blue mech said and Vivace blinked before swallowing nervously and getting up from his stool.

"Yes, sir." He nodded and followed Ultra Magnus out of the bar, his drink completely forgotten. Finally, when they were alone, Magnus turned to address the mech.

"I want to talk with you about what happened before." He said and Vivace shook his helm, "Look, don't worry, I didn't tell anyone what I saw."

"That?" The Magnus blinked, "Many know about my true form so you don't need to worry about it."

Ah, now Vivace just felt plain stupid. No one told him these things! Fraggers!

"Th- Then what is this about?"

"I wanted to ask if you would be alright seeing me as Magnus and not just as Minimus?"

"Wait, wut?"

"I have grown fond of you and you just proved yourself to me by not telling others about my true form." Magnus nodded, "It would be an honor if you started to see me more as a romantic partner than your superior."

"Are you...?" Vivace blinked, "Asking me out?"

"Affirmative." Magnus averted his optics almost bashfully, "What is your reply?"

Vivace thought about it and smiled, "I would be honored to see more of you, sir." He nodded, "I find you as Magnus and the other one appealing."

"Minimus." Magnus said and Vivace blinked, "Excuse me?"

"My real name is Minimus Ambus. You may call me Minimus."

Somehow, Vivace grinned. The name was so ironic, but at the same time so appealing. "As you wish, Minimus."

1 note - Posted November 6, 2022

Do a Star Wars match for me plz?

Obi-Wan kenobi for you wise helpful teaching patient

1 note - Posted August 2, 2022

Another galaxys edge recipe

2 notes - Posted August 6, 2022

3 new ocs to add to my growing tf list.

Echo - giant flying fox bat child of soundwave.

Sapphire- cybertronian human hybrid child of Kup

Behemoth- massive lotr style metallic elephant ( bayverse and mtmte)

All 3 are femmes message me if you wanna know more about all my ocs.

( edit: 4 more )

Mechs are:

Baphomet

Vivace

Freki

Geri

Tempest

Tempo

Oracle

Bones

Windhover

Astralflare

Pixie

Moonsong

Femmes:

Valkyrie

Mitros Prime

Vixien

Echo

Sapphire

Behemoth

Bjorn

Zephyr

2 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Please match me with a transformer and do a short fic about it

I match you with the royal trine.

Starscream at first when he meets you is standoffish but over time comes to work up to you. Thundercracker likes to carefully hold and cuddle you. Skywarp loves to sneak up on you at random popping in but when he realizes it startles you he apologies after getting yelled at by starscream. Your joining of the trine makes it a small loving flock of shared cuddles and grooming

3 notes - Posted July 6, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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xiaowhore · 3 years ago

Text

yours truly,

yours truly, (part one). / sincerely, (part two).

premise: as a friend of the most attractive students in school, you're more than used to acting as the middleman between them and the people vying for their affection, often tasked with delivering presents or handing out their love letters. however, when you chance upon a small bouquet of flowers on your desk without a note indicating the sender or who you're meant to give it to, you start to wonder if this one's supposed to be yours.

includes: childe, xiao, diluc, kazuha, albedo, thoma & gorou !

a/n: hahaha why is this so long... anyways this is a college au + reverse harem of some sorts. enjoy. i really don't want this one to flop so likes and reblogs are appreciated thx

“Do you think it's a prank?”

“Why is that the first thing that pops into your mind?” Keqing sighs as she fixes her makeup in front of a compact mirror, smacking her lips to spread the color evenly. “You're really cute, [Name]. why wouldn't someone like you by now?”

Your face burns at the offhand comment. “You're only saying that because we're friends.”

Ayaka giggles, twirling a lock of your hair with her finger. “Of course not. You're very adorable! If anything, it'd be more surprising if nobody likes you.”

“Who do you think it's from, though?” Ganyu quietly asks from beside you, observing the handful of carnations laying on your desk. Scanning the students currently present in the room, she thoughtfully adds, “maybe someone on the shyer side since they couldn't give it to you directly?”

“Or someone who did it to be romantic,” Kokomi suggests, scrutinizing the flowers with keen eyes. “That's quite nice of them.”

You hummed in contemplation, trying to figure out who placed it on your table. “Are you sure it's not a prank... or a mistake? You all sit beside me, so maybe they mistook my seat for yours-”

“You're the only one who faithfully sits there, [Name]. We don't even have assigned seats so most of us sits wherever,” Keqing clarifies, staring at you with a disapproving look. “Don't deny it. You know it's yours.”

“But I can't think of anyone who would like me!” you exclaim in defeat. “I am curious about who gave it, though... I should try to find out who it is...”

“More importantly...” Ganyu smiles at you, noticing the blush dusting your cheeks. “Who do you want it to be?”

childe:

in all honesty, he's your first guess.

not because you think he likes you or anything! he's just a huge flirt.

at the beginning of the school year, you hardly got along. you know he's a friendly guy, but it's in the way that... intimidated you. he's part of the “mood maker” clique, attracting attention wherever he goes, and you're not sure if you could handle his energy...

you preferred to stay away from the spotlight though that's a bit hypocritical considering you're friends with the prettiest group of girls in your year, and he relished in it. you didn't know if you could get along.

you didn't become friends until you were assigned partners for a project that meant a lot for your grade, and you vowed to yourself if you couldn't be close to him, you should at least be close enough to work together without trouble.

in the end, you surprisingly hit it off, childe easing the awkward air between you with jokes and random stories to tell about his weird friends. your friendship didn't end when the project did, and you continued to hang out outside of school. you're sure he didn't approach you to get closer to your friends, either; though you had some doubts at first, he was nothing alike with the jerks who tried to use you.

you're no stranger to the pranks he pulled, nor were you unaware of his flirty nature; he occasionally entertained the lot who fancied him when he attended drinking parties. so it made perfect sense if it was childe who gave those flowers, along with the gifts that followed after. it would just be him messing around again, right? oh, definitely! it wouldn't be the first time he spent his money in reckless abandon, bragging that he has the cash to spare for it.

but unexpectedly when you bring up the topic, his expression darkens, showing no sign of joking around. he looks a little shocked, too, to know someone was pursuing you.

“it's not from me,” he admits, gently taking your hand. “but it's true that i like you.”

xiao:

xiao is one of the people you deliver presents to lol

due to his intimidating disposition (and the endless amount of nasty rumors swirling about him, thanks to said intimidating disposition), hardly anybody would dare to approach him, daunted by the perpetual scowl etched on his face. he remains as eye candy, but an entity no one could reach.

you avoided him at first, too. his face is admirable, you can say that much, but you've become somewhat desensitized from having been surrounded by pretty faces 24/7 so you can't really say it's anything new... and yes, you are scared of him to a certain degree. you could never guess what he's thinking.

you weren't sure if he's as scary as people make him out to be though, since people tend to exaggerate gossip for the sake of shock value. he once defended a middle schooler from high school delinquents (through persuasion and not with fists), but the story somehow twisted into another tale entirely detailing how xiao had brutally wiped the floor with their faces and painted the concrete floor with blood...

but as intimidating as he might seem, you don't think he's that kind of character. if you overlook his piercing glare and sharp tongue, he's quite decent.

... you thought that way until you caught him tailing you on your way home.

he crept up behind you, maintaining a natural distance, but after numerous twists and turns in hopes of leading him away, he had yet to cease heading towards your direction. you wouldn't be so suspicious if you hadn't purposely gone in circles around town, leading back to where you came from — which meant he didn't have a particular destination in mind, and fully intended on being hot on your tail.

tired of having bated breath waiting for his next move, you gathered all your courage and confronted him directly, cornering him to the nearest wall to assert dominance. xiao seemed startled by your forwardness, and you took his moment of vulnerability as an opportunity to interrogate him.

unexpectedly, he sheepishly confesses, “i'm not a stalker, i got worried since you're going home this late. haven't you heard about the crime rate these days...”

from there on, you suppose you could say you understood him better. though he's snappy and stern, he's not that terrifying, even sweet at times. when you become proper friends (and you stop suspecting him as your stalker), he saves you a seat next to him, or brings you coffee that you like when he notices you're sleepy in class.

it wasn't long until everybody came to know you were friends and a girl finally — you guessed it — asked you to send a love letter to xiao in her stead.

when you gave it to xiao, he was unusually flustered, flushed pink to the tips of his ears. his expression falls flat once you tell him it's from someone else, badly containing the disappointment to show on his face.

nevertheless, you continue to be friends, and xiao has learned not to expect much from you.

he's the earliest to arrive in class, so you ask him if he'd seen the person who gave you flowers. with a cold, hard look, he says no.

he's acting kind of weird, isn't he...

diluc:

the barista in the coffee shop near your university that has to put up with so much bullshit flirting everyday.

he has to reject people in a roundabout way, and you know he hates it, but of course he has to provide great customer service if he still wants customers right... directly breaking their hearts would only make problems.

but he takes no shit from rude customers.

no, you weren't one of them. in fact, diluc quite liked you a bit. first of all, you don't have any romantic interest for the staff, you genuinely enjoy his drinks (he knows because your face is like an open book), and you mind your own business. he tolerates you enough that he can make small talk with you and it doesn't upset him in the slightest.

so it really ticked him off when some idiot was bothering you in the cafe, starting an argument over a trivial matter that shouldn't be fussed over.

in normal circumstances, diluc would've done the usual protocol — reason with the angry customer, offer free products, and let them leave the premises peacefully. but the moment he saw the man grab your shoulders and you winced in pain as a result, he didn't even have to think of what to do next.

cold coffee rained down on the ill-mannered man's head, evoking a surprised scream out of him. his fingers left your body in favor of patting away the sticky liquid from his clothes, and you stared blankly at the seething figure behind him.

“your order,” diluc announced, his voice tinted with rage. then he pretended to remember something, looking at the empty cup in his hand. “oh, i apologize. you ordered it hot, didn't you?” he forced a smile on his face. “would you like me to brew another one for you?”

the man erupted to a new screaming fit, but he was promptly dragged aside. diluc immediately questioned if you were hurt anywhere, his voice a total 180 from before and turning into a soft tone you nearly didn't recognize.

“that stunt you pulled...” you nervously said. “will you be okay...? won't you get, er, dismissed because of it?”

“...you don't know i own this place?”

“???”

in any case, you've become good friends ever since that incident. so when your secret admirer gives you your customized drink from diluc's shop (that even xiao doesn't know the recipe of!), you ask him if there's a customer who ordered your exact drink that morning.

strangely enough, he changes the subject.

“he only gave you coffee?” diluc wrinkles his nose. “he's not fit for you.”

he proceeds to shove you a plate of pancakes for breakfast and won't let you talk about that topic again.

kazuha:

the soft-spoken boy working part-time as a florist. as one would expect, his good-looking features attracted customers left and right, just like how a flower allures bees with its colorful petals and sweet nectar.

he studies in a different university from you, but it's relatively close by and you run into each other a lot. you could say you're pretty good friends; you exchanged contact information and text every other day, phone each other up to have a meal together whenever you're both free, and hang out over the weekend.

he stirred up some drama with you once. on a rainy day, he invited you to eat lunch together, but you've forgotten to take an umbrella before leaving for school so you told him you'd be a little late 'cause you had to run to the convenience store first. however, he told you not to worry about it and abruptly ended the call.

fast forward to the afternoon: the glass doors to leave the corridors had a few people lurking by, covering what was beyond. you cocked up an eyebrow in question, confused over what was all the fuss, but then you see that familiar pale hair streaked with bright red.

kazuha stood innocently by the school gates, a crimson umbrella in hand, and a small bouquet in the other. he checked his wristwatch every few minutes, seeming to be waiting for someone. he completely ignored the gawking stares pinned on his frame, busying himself by humming a quiet tune.

you hesitantly pushed open the doors, approaching him with wary steps. he immediately perked up once noticing you, beaming brightly to greet you with enthusiasm. he offered you the bouquet, telling you it's nothing more than a small gift the owner had let him craft for free (who mistakenly thought kazuha had a lover, since he was always on his phone texting someone).

you might have known the reasons behind the present, but nobody else did. and what general implications could gifting a bouquet of flowers have?

thus, the school's online forum exploded with questions, asking for the identity of the pretty boy standing by their university, and the lucky person he'd given flowers to.

needless to say it was hard to convince your friends that no, he isn't your boyfriend.

but that was another issue! the issue NOW is the other bouquet you received, much more recent in nature. after suspecting childe, your next thought was to ask kazuha if he had any buyers who purchased the same flowers you had.

his lips twitch for a moment, faintly looking displeased. but he flashes a flawless, award-winning customer service smile, covering his initial expression easily.

“no such customer ordered for those flowers that day. but i am curious about this matter... could you humor me and explain more in detail, by any chance?”

albedo:

the med student fawned over by students and teachers alike. he's simply brilliant, idolized by the entire student body. though he's mainly studying science, he's been praised for his art as well, his paintings hung in the art room proudly.

you're not very familiar with him, only knowing him through hearsay. you don't know what he looks like, so you've never confirmed for yourself if he's as beautiful everyone says he is.

he's well-known but you haven't heard anything bad about him, which is an impressive feat. his name is only ever mentioned in concert with endless compliments.

you meet him by chance in exam season. unsurprisingly, the library is filled to the brim, tables stacked high with books and each chair occupied by agitated students sipping energy drinks and coffee to stay functional. amidst all the chaos, one student remains radiant and carefree, leisurely flicking pages through his notes. he's situated by a corner table, unbothered by the mindless zombies despite having plenty of free seats beside him and everyone else is squished together like canned tuna.

and you, carrying binders, books and stationery, are visibly desperate for a place to rest. his eyes leave the words in his notes briefly, beckoning you to come closer. and you, still unaware of his identity, gladly plop on a chair and heave your heavy supplies atop the table. it shakes for a moment as it bears the new weight, rattling his items, and the zombies gape at you in question. ironically, the person you've been bothering is not offended at all.

you sneak glances at him when you need to freshen your eyes from studying, nauseated by the letters that never seem to come to an end no matter how many paragraphs you've read. you're at awe by his fair skin, not a single blemish in sight, and he doesn't even have dark circles under his eyes. truly mysterious. either he has a magical skincare routine or he's not human. if anything, you'd think he just came from a relaxing vacation, not in the middle of hell week.

you snap out of your trance, and you scold yourself for being bewitched. you have more pressing concerns, and so you grill more information into your brain, oblivious to the turquoise eyes that begin to stare at you.

the next encounter comes when exams are finally over, and you celebrate by buying the pricey food set in the cafeteria. the crunch of golden breading is rewarding for your taste buds and you shovel more food towards your mouth, minding your own business.

the seat next to you is pulled back, and you pause from chewing. it's that guy again, his refined beauty easy for you to recognize. he places his tray on the table, smiling amiably as he asks if it's fine with you should he sit there. you nod, but there's plenty of vacant tables around. it's also pretty weird that he sat next to you, not across...

well, strange as it is, that's how you befriend albedo. you've yet to learn why he came on so strong, almost aggressive. like he really wanted to talk to you. but whatever.

the more you learn about him, the more his image of “golden boy” withers away. picture of elegance? the standard of sophistication? sure. but this guy doesn't hesitate to do the weirdest shit sometimes.

he doesn't fear anything. he puts anything edible in his mouth. one school trip to the countryside taught you a few things. if he's offered fried bugs, he'll eat it. if he's given frog legs, he'll eat it. he doesn't care. he'll eat seemingly anything. because of this, you worry his admirers will put something strange in the food they give him, but that possibility doesn't cross his mind at all. (well. not that he eats it. he rejects gifts most of the time. exceptions are when they come from you.)

you're starting to think he really doesn't fear anything. when you start to scream in fright like a headless chicken while watching a horror movie, he calmly studies the anatomy of whatever horrifying creature is on screen, questioning their ability to walk when half of their body is split apart. why is he questioning horror movie logic. “ghosts are supposed to be transparent and can pass through walls, how come she can grab the main character's hair and drag him to the incinerator?” “albedo, please.” (he comforts you when you get scared, hiding your face in his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you. he softly whispers in your ear to tell you when the scary parts are over.)

he's also an overprotective older brother. for good reason, actually. his little sister, albeit cute and outwardly harmless, is an explosive child who likes to make trouble. if he takes his eyes off her for more than two minutes, she will undoubtedly set fire to his little garden.

she's the reason why he's so observant. he can tell you trimmed your hair because he's all too used to klee chopping off her own hair with craft scissors. he also notices when you feel a bit under the weather. klee is the type to hide her sickness so she could play outside, and albedo would often have to forcibly tuck her back to bed. you're no different. he will, quite literally, drag you to your house and make you rest.

but aside from being a pain in the ass, his observation skills can help you — surely albedo can make a few guesses for your secret admirer's identity?

albedo blinks at you, uncharacteristically silent. he purses his lips, and gives you a small smile. he asks a few unassuming questions, things like what traces your secret left behind, or if they'd sent a love letter and he'd check the penmanship to see if he found it familiar.

he's not the most eager to help, you know that, but you're still slightly disappointed when he says, “sorry, i can't help you with something like that. it'd be better if you figured it out yourself.”

thoma:

the cute neighbor living in the apartment next door. just like kazuha, he studies in a different university, but you run into each other a lot because... well. obviously.

you find him rather silly. he'd signed the lease not knowing pets weren't allowed in the premises, and tearfully waved taroumaru goodbye when he moved in. to cope, he started staying at the park near the apartment building, playing with the dogs there and getting hit on by their owners in the process, but let's not talk about that.

despite being a newcomer, he fit right in with the tenants. he made effort to learn everyone's names and chatted with them whenever presented a chance, thus winning their favor. it isn't a strange sight to see him with middle-aged ladies and looking at home, listening earnestly to their complaints about their husbands or rowdy children. (his hard work pays off when they give him their special recipes and inform him of supermarket deals lol)

he seems to get along well with old men too, invited to their drinking parties. except thoma isn't good at rejecting alcohol from older adults, so when you save him from such situation — pulling him away from the old men prying into his love life, because surely a good kid like him would have someone to love him dearly — he's become eternally grateful.

he's honestly too good for his own good.

exhibit a: thoma is prone to cooking too much food for one person to eat in one sitting, so he tends to invite you to eat his hotpot with him or bring you packaged food you can easily pop into a microwave. after your one act of goodwill, he's become strangely attached to you, pronouncing you best buds. he then admits he used to live with a larger group of people (hence his cooking habits), and he's thankful for your company. (you'd argue you're getting the better end of the deal, receiving free food like this)

exhibit b: he's always available to help you in your troubles. need a hand with heavy groceries? he's on his way! ran out of soy sauce? just wait a bit, he's gonna grab some from the cupboard! forgot your key inside your apartment? then stay at his place for the meantime before the locksmith comes! your shower isn't working well?... he promises he won't peek in the bathroom, so feel free to take a bath h a h a h a. need someone's opinion on what outfit to wear for a date? sure, he's- wait.

YOU'RE GOING ON A DATE?

his face twists weirdly as you showcase two different shirts, asking which one he likes better. you raise an eyebrow when he doesn't dare to utter a single word. “are they both bad?”

he blinks rapidly, then shakes his head laughing. he half-heartedly points to the shirt in your left hand, but you can tell he doesn't really think much of it. he excuses himself fairly quickly, saying he had chores to do, and scurried back to his own home.

(you were only going to a date with ayaka's older brother because she insisted you both needed a love life, but it's not like you actually feel anything for him.)

it doesn't end there. thoma acts weird sometimes. he's strangely cold when he sees you inviting kazuha to your apartment to hang out. he also stiffens when he spots xiao walking you home.

but by far, he acted the weirdest when your phone number called him, but when he answered, he heard a different voice respond.

it's childe, whom you went drinking with. he doesn't know where you live, and you're not nearly sober enough to return home on your own, and it's not like you'll agree to staying over childe's house. you also refuse telling him your address, so childe is left with no choices but to call for someone he knows.

he uses your fingerprint to unlock the password in your phone, heading straight for your contact list, and dialed thoma.

it doesn't take long for thoma to arrive where you are, panting after running for a while, and childe is almost impressed. thoma hoists you up and you obediently wrap your arms around him.

“sorry for the trouble. [name]'s dead drunk as you can see,” childe comments, chuckling to himself. thoma doesn't look amused and replies with, “it's no trouble at all. i'd be glad to help [name] anytime.”

then in a way that almost seems possessive, thoma leaves childe behind.

so now when you arrive home, bouquet in your arms, red dusting your features, thoma is displeased once more.

(yet he is envious of those who can freely profess their affections, because he's certain if he were to ever admit his feelings to you, things can never be the same.)

gorou:

you first suspected childe because you thought the bouquet of flowers was a joke, but if it wasn't and it was real with the intentions of sweeping you off your feet...

then you might have another suspect in mind.

gorou is... a funny guy. can you put it like that? you don't know what to think of him. he's nice, you already know that very well, kokomi's good friends with him and told you a few stories about him, all of which are sweet and amusing. your first impression of him was that of a pure-hearted boy that can do no wrong.

he's younger than you by a year, and kokomi was fairly excited when she first told you he would be attending the same university soon. she promised to introduce you to him in hopes you'd be friends as well.

and okay, you could get behind that. there's nothing wrong with meeting new people. gorou sounded like a great guy too, and it'd be nice to take care of someone younger. you've been coddled by your seniors the past year as a freshman, and you thought it would only be right if you did the same to the new batch of students.

so you attended the welcoming party kokomi dragged you into. it was just a small gathering to get the freshmen familiarize themselves with older students, and she told you you'd get to meet gorou there, her eyes carefully scanning the crowd in pursuit of a specific face.

just as you were reminiscing over the past where your sadistic seniors encouraged you to drink a lot in the last welcoming party, shuddering in fright, kokomi tapped your shoulder and gestured to the brown haired boy standing before you.

it must be him. per courtesy, your lips curled into a practiced smile, exuding an amicable air. kokomi briefly exchanged a few words with him, but it looked like she was doing all the talking, the male frozen in spot as if he'd seen something strange.

he stared at you blankly, eyes slightly widened, and you slowly became unnerved with his vacant gaze, your smile faltering. you made eye contact with kokomi, silently questioning her, but she gave a subtle shrug of her shoulders, also confused by his behavior.

then, completely out of everyone's expectations, he'd dropped to the floor.

gorou had knelt on the ground with one steady knee, solemn in his endeavors. in an instant, your hand was seized, fingers enclosed in his warm palm. his piercing stare was impassioned, sincere at its core. heat shot up to the tips of your ears.

“marry me!”

his voice resounded in the entire room, earning unwanted attention. the chatter halted immediately, all eyes dedicated to the spectacle that was the both of you, and your mind began to spin, cold sweat dripping down your forehead.

your voice was caught in your throat, not knowing what to say, and all you could formulate was a garbled string of incoherent mess. undeterred, the grasp on your hand was unrelenting, gorou committed through this act until the very end.

everyone was thinking the same thing: we haven't even started drinking yet, but this little guy is drunk already??

shameless. crazy. a head with loose screws. you're probably the only one who'd describe gorou that way.

but what kind of sane man would say that upon first meeting???

kokomi quickly tried to mediate the situation for him, pulling him away and patting his back to knock him out of his dazed stupor, and pushed you to the farthest corner.

she vouched for him when she saw your puzzled expression, thinking of him as a weirdo, and she insisted he's normally not that odd. she swears he was never interested in dating before, and she isn't sure what changed for him to... propose... all of a sudden... to you, who he'd barely seen for ten seconds, no less.

naturally, it feels strange for you to see him. after that disastrous encounter, gorou — who did feel embarrassment for what he did, horrified at his own impulsiveness — tried to make amends, backtracking steps (he skipped way too many and immediately went to propose lol) and treating you normally like a friend of a friend, slowly trying to make the atmosphere between you casual instead of a freezing blizzard that kills off the amicable mood.

in spite of all that, however, you do feel as if his feelings are actually genuine. he can be clumsy, and incredibly so, you don't know who else could propose to another person within a span of a minute meeting them for the first time, but he means well! you started off on the wrong foot, and maybe this bouquet of flowers is him trying to curry your favor... or something...

yet all he gives is a disbelieving look, and that's enough to provide a clear answer: it's not from him, and he's upset.

it,, probably wasn't a good idea to ask someone who likes you about another person who likes you.

but if it isn't him, who else could it be?!

drop your guesses in the comments but im pretty sure it's already obvious lol

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #childe x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha kaedehara #albedo x reader #thoma x reader #gorou x reader

14K notes · View notes

skzoologist · 1 year ago

Note

Hi could u possibly do soft moments between Bae and the members that Stay maybe wouldn't see as they are more in private 😊

word count: ~4.7k words, around 500-700 word per member

warnings: just some tooth-rotting fluff ^-^

genre: fluff

a/n: Hey-ho anon, of course I can! I have gone a bit overboard with this to be quite honest, but I hope you like it! I'm very happy you requested something, especially because it is some diabetes-inducing fluff. Sorry, sorry, I'll wrap it up and let you read what I wrote, I am just so happy about my first request!

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Bang Chan:

A soft knock echoed through the room, no answer to greet it back. But he anticipated it, opening the door anyway and slipping inside silently.

The busy form of his hyung greeted him as he entered the studio, back slightly hunched as he was leaning ever so slowly closer and closer to the screen, completely absorbed in his work of creating art. A gentle smile slipped onto Bae's lips, his eyes sweeping across the room.

He loved his hyung and the other members of 3racha, he really did, but he couldn't help the disappointed sigh that left his chest at the state of the place.

It was an absolute mess -although it was usually pretty clean, to be fair-. Blankets and hoodies were laying everywhere, the table was cluttered with empty takeout boxes.

Thus, he silently got to work; first he gathered up the trash, putting it all into a plastic bag he found -probably what the food had arrived in-. Then, he collected all the hoodies, folding and laying them onto the now clean table for the others to find easily later. And lastly, he grabbed the blankets and comfortably laid across the couch with them: one acted as a pillow, one blanketed him as intended.

Bae was bullied into taking a rest by the others, but since they themselves were all busy doing something else -what hypocrites-, he thought he would join Chan in the studio.

Bae never said it out loud, but he treasured quiet moments like these, where he could just lay around in the others' presence, comfortable silence draped across them like a safety blanket; just like now.

As he was watching a video on his phone -one ear plugged in with an earbud, the other left open in case Chan needed something-, the silence was broken.

"Hey Bae, could you please listen to this?" - Chan asked, as if Bae's presence was normal in the room.

And maybe it was, with the surprising amount of times he visited just to take care of his hyung or the other hard-working members.

The younger looked up at his hyung, craning his neck in the process from his comfortable lying position, a small smile gracing his lips as he nodded. Not even a second later a pair of headphones was passed into his hands; he gave a thumbs up to signal he was ready once he put them on.

Upbeat music filled his ears, the notes filling his head and dancing around in there. It felt like his pulse was matching the beat, the rhythm, and he could already imagine the theme, the props, the setting in front of his closed eyes.

But it was all over a bit too soon, the music fading away and leaving emptiness in its wake. Chan's awaiting face greeted him once he opened his eyes, and he already knew what the older wanted.

"The first third is good, but it needs a bit more power, maybe more bass. Around the middle is a weird sound, the different components of the music somehow not clicking well together." - it flowed out of him, Chan nodding along and drinking in his words as if they were water in a desert.

The elder went back to work, not even thanking him. But it wasn't needed, this exchange of theirs now a second nature to them. While Bae wasn’t as well-versed in the world of music as 3racha was, Chan always liked to ask for his opinion without an ounce of hesitation.

Besides, he could see the excited and grateful tinkle in Chan's eyes, how that smile widened with the dimples peeking out once he figured out a new part thanks to Bae's advice.

Lee Know:

He started towards the kitchen once he looked at the time; he knew his menace of a hyung would be there, utilising his wonderful cooking skills.

"Ah, our little otter has arrived. Came to steal some fish?" - said Minho, his voice light and teasing as he turned back towards the cutting board topped with varying vegetables.

Bae just lightly huffed, knowing that whatever he said back would only result in even more teasing. Besides, as much as it got on his nerves sometimes, he knew all the jabs and nicknames were only Minho's way of showing love.

The elder simply chuckled at his lack of verbal answer and put a gentle hand on the middle of his back to lead him towards another cutting board, descaled fish already washed and sitting on top of it.

With a sweep over all the ingredients neatly laid out on the countertop, Bae put together what food they would be eating for lunch and got to work, no instructions needed.

That was the thing with the duo; they worked so much around the kitchen together, they understood the other silently at that point, no words needed. Little glances, a nod of head, a single gesture of the hand or hip. It was like their own little secret language.

Just the thought alone put Bae in an elated mood, lips quirked up oh so slightly, but permanently as he added the sliced up fish into the lightly oiled pan, the meat sizzling in response. A hand appeared on his waist and he slightly stepped away to let the other dump his own chopped up ingredients into a different pan. Some onion, carrot -they were star-shaped, how cute-, green bean peeked out from the conglomerate of vegetables, but Bae was sure he couldn’t successfully identify every ingredient in the pan.

He poked and flipped the fish slices quickly, then stepped away to their rice cooker. The warmth that kept gradually sliding down on his hips left, a slight huff sounding from behind him somewhere.

That cheeky cat was at it again -well, still at it, to be more precise-, always on the hunt for skinship and butts.

Bae silently sighed and poured in the correct amount of rice and water into the machine. With the press of a few buttons it was already buzzing and on its way to make some fluffy rice.

Knowing he was done, Bae turned around and went back to the stove, hovering behind the male stirring the contents of the pan. He slightly leaned over Minho, noting how the fish was done and already taken off the heat, earning a little hum from his throat.

From the corner of his eyes he noticed the elder looking at him, that content warmth and fuzziness dancing around in those dark orbs, staying even after a slow blink, staring right into his very being. And maybe, maybe his eyes reflected the same look, maybe they took on that crescent shape he adored seeing.

He wouldn’t know, not even as he put his chin on Minho’s shoulder, not even as he helped get the table ready for food, all the while dodging advances on his buttocks. But he sure felt content as he glanced at the fully set table, steaming food sitting in bowls, ready to be eaten.

And that was his mistake, as he felt that firm grip and slap. “Yah! Lee Minho, get back here right this instant you little–”

Seo Changbin:

Bae found himself in a precarious situation.

You see, he was simply on his way to the kitchen to get some water, then immediately return back to his room and continue working. But the moment he stepped foot in the living room -something he had to do to get to the kitchen-, a certain dwaekki set his eyes on him and loudly protested when he tried to leave.

“Binnie, I have things to do, let me go–” “Nooooooo, stay with me, everyone else is busy, I’m lonelyyyyy.” “No, really, Binnie, please–”

But no matter what he said, Changbin only clinged stronger to him, strong arms encircling his waist and trapping him hostage.

After a minute of struggling and whining -from the dwaekki’s end-, Bae decided to take mercy on his own ears and with a heavy sigh, remained still in Changbin’s hold. The immediate joy that radiated from the man was absurd, you would have thought he had won the lottery or something.

But no, he just had a hold of his tallest hyung, turning him into a plushie as he flopped onto the couch and snuggled into his lax form. The satisfied sigh that left his chest was heavy, an indicator of just how comfortable the short male was.

Bae was already familiar with how cuddly and demanding Changbin could be, he knew it all too well. Thanks to his ‘wonderful’ bandmates, who all just showed him into the short male’s arms as a sacrifice most of the time, knowing full well it would be impossible to escape. Your only choice was to accept your fate and be manhandled around, like a lifeless doll, because god have mercy on you if moved and squirmed around.

Changbin was a loud man and he had no hesitation to remind anyone of that fact, no matter how close they were physically at that moment.

“Wanna continue the series we started last week?” - came the question Bae was dreading. “Binnie…” - but a single look at those shining chocolate orbs filled with hope and the stars was all it took, his will wavering and shattering completely.

The sound echoed in his ears, as if a pane of frozen ice was dropped onto the hard ground.

So he simply silently sighed and nodded, already reaching for the remote that laid on the coffee table, as he was laying closer towards it.

A few button presses and a bit of a scrolling later he found the show on netflix and hit play, placing back the remote onto the table to be out of the way. He focused back onto the screen after, the intro skipped and the characters already on-screen, getting thrown into the drama of the episode.

But just as he was getting absorbed into the story, the cuddling male wiggled around to find a new comfortable position. Once that was done, he directed his gaze back onto the screen, following the female lead as she–.

Changbin was doing it again.

And again, and again, until Bae realised what was wrong.

“You want snacks, but don’t want to let me go, don’t you, Binnie?” - the heavy silence was all the confirmation he needed, as he sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time. “Well I don’t want you to escape, Hyung…” Dear gods, he was pouting. “Alright, then hold onto me.” “Wait what–” But Bae didn’t wait around, simply held onto Changbin who clung onto his form like a koala to a tree and stood up carefully, not wishing to topple over and injure both of them.

He could get snacks like this and keep his little dwaekki happy, what a win-win situation.

Hwang Hyunjin:

It was one of those rare days, where he found himself gripping a pencil and his stashed away sketchbook.

Soft lines appeared on the white void, connecting and crossing paths in varying places. Some stained the paper greatly, leaving a strong presence behind, while the others barely appeared to be visible at all.

He wasn’t putting a lot of thought behind it, really, he just let his hands take the lead and doodle out whatever they wanted.

And soon the lines created shapes, the shapes piece by piece drawing out to be a face.

Oh.

Apparently he'd been drawing his artistic bandmate, but that wasn’t a big surprise to be quite honest. They had a photoshoot the previous day and everyone was in awe of Hyunjin’s beauty. The image still lived clearly in his head, the soft, colourful lights hitting the male’s features perfectly.

Maybe he should have started drawing on a bigger, professional paper instead, not his cheap little sketchbook.

But before he could stand up to do so, his door opened after a soft knock. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

“Hyung, wanna go and-...Hang on, are you drawing without me? Am I seeing things correctly?” - you could already hear the exasperation in Hyunjin’s voice, the fake hurt rearing its head. “Jin…” “How could you?? Hyung, I trusted you!” “No, Jinnie, look–” “Whenever I ask you to draw with me, you decline, saying you are busy, but then you do this behind my back??” “Hyunjin, please–” “How many times have you done this? How can I ever trust you again?” “I’ll draw with you.” “Have you been–...hang on. What did you just say?” “I’ll draw with you now.”

After the three full seconds it took the younger to process what'd happened, his face lit up and a delighted sound left his lips. Bae could only sigh, but there were no negative feelings behind it. He truly did enjoy their art sessions together, as rare as they were.

So, he let Hyunjin drag him around into the blonde’s room, all the while excitedly babbling. Once Hyunjin was excited and rambling, you had no choice but to let him tire himself out.

It was all very endearing, really.

Bae watched the other zoom around the strategically messy room, gathering supplies for both of them. Paint supplies for himself, a pencil set for Bae.

Having everything they needed, they both comfortably sat down facing the other and got to work.

It seemed like this time Hyunjin didn’t want to discuss what their subject or topic of art was going to be, but that was fine with Bae. He was just going to continue what he had started, but now on a professional canvas.

He did have a perfectly good reference right in front of him, after all.

That was how time went by, both of them immersed in their own work as soothing instrumental music filled in the silence. Their canvases not empty anymore, now filled with a myriad of colours and shapes.

Looking over his work one final time, subtly glancing back at his subject, Bae deemed the artwork done and put his pencil back in its place. Feeling stiff, he stood up quietly and stretched, satisfying pops ringing through the air.

And as if they planned it out, Hyunjin stood up as well to stretch, a smile painted over his lips when their gazes met. With a single flick of his hand he beckoned Bae over, the taller striding over towards his easel.

Pure shock and surprise sat upon his face, his wide eyes drinking in the colourful strokes that painted him.

“I caught a glimpse of your sketch earlier, Hyung. So in exchange, I did the same. How do you like it?”

But Bae could only stare at the painting in front of him, his cheeks dusted and blood ablaze fueled by adoration.

Han Jisung:

He only heard the faint sound of a footstep before he was tackled from behind, almost falling face-first into the floor, had he not grabbed onto the wall in reflex.

“What the fuck, Sungie, you could have injured yourself!” “But Bae hyuuuuuung, I missed youuuu.” “We literally saw each other 4 hours ago.” “Exactly, that’s 4 hours too long!”

Bae could only sigh at that, silently readjusting Jisung on his back so he wouldn't slip off and started walking back to the practice room -where he was originally going, without an added weight on his back-.

“That interview was so boring without you.” “Sungie… I don’t talk a lot, what do you mean?” “Sure, but you let me play with your fingers. Or your clothes. You’re just, just, there, you know? It’s really boring when you aren’t.” - it took the taller every drop of willpower to not accidentally misstep or let the younger slip down from his back. He was pleasantly surprised, heat slightly dusting his cheeks.

“But wasn’t Seungminnie with you?” “Yea, but that’s not the same.”

Bae simply hummed, still trying to fight off the heat from his cheeks as he stepped foot back into the practice room he had for himself for the day. He went towards his phone -that was connected to the audio system-, thinking which dance to practice.

But even after he had successfully decided, started the music and walked back to the middle of the room, Jisung did not budge at all. Not even when he let go of his legs, no. The brunette merely tightened his hold, arms and legs wound around Bae as if he would disappear any second.

A single glance at the mirrored wall they were facing was all it took to see the playful grin on Jisung’s face and cause Bae’s face to deadpan.

Well, two could play that game.

And with that, Bae simply got into position and was about to start dancing, when his little squirrel finally detached from his back in slight panic.

Before a word could leave Jisung’s mouth, Bae spun around and grinned widely, attacking brunette’s sides in a brutal tickle attack. The younger boy thrashed around, begging for mercy, even fighting for it, but to no avail.

His attacker didn’t let up, only after tears sprung out of Jisung’s eyes and air barely entered his lungs.

Satisfied with a job well done, Bae stood up and huffed, hands on his hips as he looked down at the absolutely dishevelled and dead-looking Jisung. Knowing he won’t move for a while, Bae simply grabbed both his legs and dragged him away, to not be in the way and accidentally get hurt.

Afterwards he went to reset the music -his playlist was going ever since-, then got back into position.

The beat of the music seeped into his being, his pulse picking up to match it. Careful of every step, the angle of his limbs, the flow of the moves, he practiced the dance ‘til perfection.

His chest heaved, droplets of sweat rolling down his skin as he glanced up and saw something in the mirror.

His eyes zeroed in on it as an ‘Oh no’ echoed through the room, the perpetrator already scrambling up from his seat and running towards the door.

“Han Jisung, come back here this instant and tell me why you started a live in my dance session, you–!”

Lee Felix:

The sky was blue, the grass was green and Felix was a stubborn man. All rules of life, things you had to accept and live with.

That was why when Felix grabbed Bae’s wrist the moment they got back to the dorms, he didn’t put up a fight. The older simply sighed as the others laughed at his misery and just followed the excited male into his room.

The moment the door was closed and the younger was sure his hyung would not be able to escape, he let his wrist go and excitedly started booting up his console.

“Come on Dal hyung, let’s play some Mario Kart!” - Bae was a weak man, his ability to say no to those sparkling eyes nonexistent.

So, he just nodded, accepting the controller offered to him and plopped onto the bed, his back propped up by the headboard and the sea of pillows Felix had. There were also plushies of all sorts laying around, the little skzoo plushies standing out as they were all neatly placed into comfortable positions.

His attention was stolen away when he felt the bed dip next to him, the younger crawling into his lap without a second to waste. Not like Bae minded it. He circled his arms around the younger and placed his chin on his smooth, blonde mop of hair.

“You can choose the map and all.” - Bae answered before Felix could even ask, receiving a hum in response.

They both chose their characters, and the game started.

Now, even though Bae wasn’t a professional gamer or even a casual one -especially compared to his bandmates-, he could still hold his ground. A dodge of a banana peel here, a timed speed booster there, and he was already climbing the ranks, getting closer and closer to the younger.

He could feel Felix becoming nervous, especially when he leaned away from his hold to concentrate better, leaving Bae empty handed on the bed.

But the elder expected this, having had this dance countless times before, already knowing how it would end as well.

And he was right, the same thing happened as it usually did, with Bae winning and Felix losing somehow.

“Agh, what the hell? How did that shell hit me, I wasn’t even in its line of fire! A rematch, gimme a rematch, Hyung!”

And so Bae did, giving the younger what he wanted one after the other.

But after the 10th one, the score in favour of Bae with 7-3, Felix got so frustrated he started sulking. He was turned away on the bed from Bae and all, with his hands crossed and lips probably pouty, controller long forgotten on the floor -where it was thrown at-.

The elder sighed, putting down his own controller and crawled towards the sulking little chicken, dragging him into his hold.

“How about we watch some Ghibli movies, hm? Maybe Totoro, or Kiki’s delivery?” - he whispered out, trying to hold the pouty male’s gaze that avoided him.

A few minutes of silence was all it took, dark orbs now looking back at him with a whisper of ‘Fine’. He smiled, his lips only curving up even more, once Felix’s expression mimicked his.

There was that smile he adored so much.

The freckled male made grabby hands, and Bae happily obliged as he placed him into his lap, arms caging the younger in their hold. Felix wiggled around and snuggled even more into his chest, as if there was any space left between them to conquer.

Kim Seungmin:

It was rare when the second youngest wasn’t insulting someone, causing any trouble or just generally being the ‘nuisance’ he usually was. It was all part of his charm though, no one would truly feel annoyed with him at the end of the day.

Bae knew this as well of course, never taking those playful insults to heart and only jabbing back at the younger a few times if he felt particularly mischievous at that moment.

He was pretty sure it was all part of his love language, just like how physical touch was part of Chan’s or Felix’s for instance, or how acts of service were part of Minho’s. Everyone worked differently, and that was how Seungmin did.

But under all that teasing and being savage, the younger hid away a softness he rarely let the others see. Something even Bae could seldom experience, but cherished nonetheless.

Like when he came back to the dorms after a long day of practice -maybe a bit too long, considering it was almost midnight-, his limbs aching and mind numb from listening to the same song over and over again, in order to perfect that one move he couldn’t quite get.

He didn’t expect anyone to be up -besides Chan of course, that workaholic- and was rightfully surprised, when a sleepy puppy greeted him by the door, taking his bag away and ushering him towards the sofa to sit.

Bae just confusedly looked at the other, but when he tried standing up he was met with the nastiest glare he had seen in a while, so he hurriedly sat back down and waited in silence for the younger to arrive back from the kitchen.

He heard some sounds, the occasional clinking of a utensil against something ceramic, the microwave going off for example. He could only blink at them, not knowing what Seungmin was doing and why he was still up.

But he didn’t have to wonder for long, the brunette appeared with a tray, a steaming bowl of instant ramyeon and a cup of juice sitting on top of it. It was gently pushed onto his lap, the younger boy sitting next to him on the couch, facing him with a pillow in his hold as comfort.

“Eat and rest, Dal hyung. You push yourself too hard sometimes.” - said the gentle voice beside Bae, and he had to let the words sink in to properly process them. “No, Hyung, eat that, or I will break your legs and force it down your throat.”

The elder could only gulp at that, nodding as a response and finally taking a look at his food. It really was instant ramyeon, as he initially thought, but there were extra ingredients added in: a boiled egg, some veggies, and a few slices of meat. Seungmin really took his precious time to make this for him instead of sleeping, even though you could see how tired the boy was.

His eyes that usually shined with mischief were dulled by sleep, his movements a bit sluggish. Sometimes his eyelids remained closed for just a second too long, the motion of opening them looking demanding on the boy’s part.

But even so, Seungmin fought sleep just to watch Bae eat that food, and who was he to deny that from the younger.

Every bite warmed his heart, and not only because it was scalding hot.

Yang Jeongin:

They were all together in the practice room, preparing for their next comeback and everything was going well.

Everyone was nailing the moves they were unsure about before, their bodies moving in sync as if they were gears in a machine, made to work together.

So when the music stopped, they all cheered together, some even dropping onto the floor in relief and exhaustion. Bae was one of them, but mostly because a very enthusiastic Hyunjin tackled him and he just couldn’t properly hold them up when he was so tired already.

“Alright, lunch break.” - Minho exclaimed and everyone bursted into loud cheering, springing up and flocking around Chan to see what they could order online.

It took a bit of nudging to get the blonde off of him, but Bae eventually succeeded and got up himself as well, sauntering over towards the group of very hungry idols. Looking over the available choices and what everyone had already ordered, he settled on getting the same thing as Felix and laid back down onto the ground to wait for the food.

Naturally, with these people as his bandmates, he couldn’t be left alone and enjoy some peace.

No, instead he was dragged around on the floor by Changbin and Jisung, both arguing about who could do it faster or something. Bae wasn’t really paying attention, too tired and hungry to be bothered with such things.

Eventually, the food arrived and he was free once again, but before he could grab his soda can, it was snagged by a certain maknae. The younger popped it open and handed it to him, but not before pinching his cheeks with a fox grin.

“Today, I’m gonna be the hyung, you’ll be the maknae.”

Bae was absolutely frozen and in shock, his eyes wide, one hand holding the box with his food, the other hovering in the air as he was in the middle of grabbing his drink.

That one sentence seemed to have grabbed everyone’s attention, chaos unfolding before Bae’s unblinking eyes.

“Wait, Innie, what do you mean?” “Hang on, hang on, do you mean Bae hyung should be the maknae for today? As in, being babied and stuff?” “Oh my god, you’re a genius!”

Those were a few sentences Bae could make out, before all heads turned towards him and a shiver ran down his spine.

They all flocked around him before he could even lift a finger and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground in Chan’s lap with everyone else around him, being fed different types of food. His hair was an utter mess from all the aggressive headpatting, his cheeks already in pain from all the pinching.

All the while the one behind all this was enjoying the view with a grin, after having had his fair share of abusing the new maknae for the day.

Not being able to take it anymore, Bae somehow successfully wiggled out of Chan’s hold and stood up, huffing as he had to slightly catch his breath from all that.

“Going somewhere, Hyung? Sorry, you're the younger one now.” - came the sudden voice of Jeongin from behind him, scaring the living life out of Bae. “Let me take you there.” - before he could protest, he was picked up by the youngest menace, carried away from all the others who started protesting as they wanted to do the same.

“Innie, why must you hate me?” But Bae never got an answer, only a hearty laugh as he was carried away from the chasing members.

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moonyslove78 · 10 months ago

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KATIE!! OMG!!

I can hardly contain myself!! When you mentioned that you had wrote 5 pages in Google Docs and you had a good start on this chapter, I didn't know how to react! My favs were back in action!

And I know I've been telling you already how damn much I loved this but it's never official for me until I ramble on and on to Tumblr about it! So here's where that comes in. Also, I'm sorry for my child's need for the laptop every single time I had the chance to type this up, so am I doing this review now instead of doing my dishes, like I should be? Yes. Do I have any regrets? ZERO! So HOOOOWWWWLS it goesssss...

(Sorry, that was super corny... 😂👀)

🐺🏹SPOILERS FOR CLM - CH5 PT1 UNDER THE CUT🏹🐺

First off, I'm going to sound like a broken record here, but idc... the amount of pride you should have in your ability to scene build is outrageous. You have literally, in the brief first 2-3 paragraphs, have transported me from my living room to the cozy brown cabin in the middle of the woods. I could fucking smell the pine, Katie! Not many I know can do this... but you do it with ease and perfection. And because of that, I could easily get sucked into anything you write... Peter Parker related, or not. 👏🏽❤️

To explain just how thankful I am that you're back and writing again, I'm gonna quote the great @liz-allyn's reblog... because I couldn't have said it any better than this. Cause it really is such a gift to have the privilege to read your work.

Aylin's little conversation where she was trying to justify her NOT being in a discriminatory cult, only to realize by her own words that that may just be what she is involved in, was such a perfect set up for the rest of this chapter. The moment she started thinking just like they'd want her to (EG: "He's a stupid, low life, disgusting werewolf." -- "Who's been nothing but kind and graceful despite her attitude towards him.")

It sets the tone for how things are going to look from here on out and how things are going to unfold.

You already got my live reaction to meeting Kedi, to which I would've never known what the name meant had you not mentioned it! And to me it makes Aylin seem even more creative than I'd originally thought!

But this part had me cracking up because it's so relatable! Star was literally doing zoomies while I was trying to fold clothes earlier and when I went to hang dry a few shirts, she decided that was the best time to climb under the upside-down laundry basket (somehow? I still say she's magic✨). And the look on her face when I removed said laundry basket so I could continue to use it was as if she was saying 'how dare you!' So needless to say, they will put themselves in the strangest of places just for the attention it gets. 🥰😂

First, I love how Aylin's got this chaotic plan of hers and is packing for a weekend stay with Peter... It's like the polar opposite of what we would've expected from her at the beginning of this story.

And second, I can't say I didn't find some irony in the werewolf's company being of the feline species 😂 But also, aweeee!!! Because how freaking adorable would it be to see Peter cuddling Kedi on the hammock while they napped together?!?!?! 🥺

I died at this little scene depiction! 😂😂 I could just see this black kitty cat running out from under a patio chair to swipe a paw at this big ass black bear who's trying to enjoy his lunch... and Kedi just glaring at him for trying to steal his food. Then the tone got super tense when I realized this wasn't that kinda scene when Kedi stayed hidden. That could only mean one of three things.

YUP! I just got nauseous myself! 🤢 This man is something else entirely when it comes to creep factor. And add in an extra side of intimidation. He thrives on it, gets off on it, he wants to make sure anyone and everyone is fearful of him and whatever his next move is. That's a cult leader, if I've ever heard of one. He may put some of the others to shame.

(side note: I mean that in no disrespect to victims of those cult leaders, I'm just saying... Katie's ability to build a character as sinister as Sergei is absolutely mind blowing. His canon character is already menacing in his own right, but this version brings a whole new meaning of the word -devious-)

I'll give Aylin mad props here for choosing the 'I got sick from undercooked meat.' excuse here. I'd have probably froze up in this instance and not known what to say or do to talk my way out of it.

But it goes to show how disgustingly manipulative Sergei really is. Feigning his 'concern' for her well-being, while at the same time using the guilt of the worry, she'd put her mom through, by not returning home like she'd should have. (by his standards of the rules) Only to try and use his intimidation factor to his advantage, to try to get her to confess her way into something. This is also where I started noticing a fairly uncomfortable, but none too surprising, pattern with him when it comes to Aylin... and it makes want to skin something off him... and it's not gonna be a werewolf pelt, that's for sure... 😠

EWW! The 'safety baiting' and essential gas lighting! 😒 He makes me wanna reach through the screen and strangle him. But I'm glad Aylin is seeing the truth behind his lies. It's disturbing the amount of extremely intentional grooming he's doing when it involves Aylin. And I cannot wait till Peter gets a load of how Sergei is with her... I feel protective werewolf vibes? 👀🙏🏼

Again with the descriptions! I'm just fucking blown away by your ability to set the tone and atmosphere of a scene so clearly. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

And ugh... it's her... 😒 If there's another person I hate as much as I do her significant other, it's Cal. (And Kateri, but that's a rant for another time) I can't seem to figure out who is worse when it comes to the Kravinoff's. So I will choose to hate them both just as much. Equality.

They really are the perfect couple. Both equally as atrocious as the other. I definitely sense some sort of jealousy stemming from Kraven's unwanted attention towards Aylin emanating from Calypso. You can absolutely guess that this is probably a topic brought up behind closed doors (not that anyone necessarily WANTS to know what's going on behind their closed doors). And he's totally giving Fatal Possession vibes here with his 'important guests tea'. 👀😣

When I say, I gasped! 😱😨

I was literally like "oh fuck no! no! nonononono!!"

I really thought for sure he'd found out something MORE about Peter. Not that this wasn't bad enough... but I was ready to hear him say he had him chained up somewhere in some dungeon torturing him or something! 😩

But much to my surprise, it was because of something a little more relatable... and something I probably should think about before doing so too, before I tell my cat about my incessant obsession with a certain web shooting super hero and someone hears me that shouldn't. 👀😂

I really wanted to punch him in the face at this point... 😡 First of all the 'boyfriend' part should be none of his business, especially if he's looking at it in the way he's making it seem. Ugh! God he gives me the creeps... And I know that I haven't even scratched the surface on how badly I'll hate him by the end of this. But like, that's your dead best friend's daughter. You watched her grow up practically. If anything, he should be looking at her as a daughter of his own. Not like he's some star crossed jealous lover who isn't getting his way, so he's gotta make a scene about it! 😒 And then he has the nerve to bring up the Leah situation... when he obviously knows he's touching on a sore spot by bringing her up. Mainly because he knows HE was the reason it was a sore spot to begin with.

And with the fact that he mentions Calypso is bi just makes the 'grooming' vibes even more prominent. It's almost as if he's giving her this info in hopes (for lack of a better term, considering I don't think this monster has hoped for anything in his entire life, he probably just takes whatever he wants, damned the consequences or effects it has on others... 👀😩) that Aylin will somehow fall into his trap and he can have the both of them at the same time.

👀🥰 I think this just makes it even more obvious that Aylin is slowly (but surely) developing feelings for our beloved werewolf. Whether she realizes it now or not, these aren't just friendly feelings... And I am totally enjoying the fact that she's being protective over him, even if she thinks it's just in a friendly manner. 😍

YES!👏🏽🙌🏽 Hallelujah! She's finally seeing the truth for herself! I was hoping it wouldn't take much longer before she realized that this was not normal by a long shot. Even for a group that hunts Lycans... This was sick and twisted. This was unhealthy for everyone involved. If the suspicious behavior towards her alone on Kraven and Calypso's parts weren't enough to show it, at least the fact that they'd shown the other signs of it being 'cult like' (aka A CULT!!) made her realize that Peter was for sure on to something. I know it usually takes an outsider's prospective to make the victim's see those unhealthy patterns, so thankfully Peter hadn't held his tongue about the vibes he was getting from them, because who knows how long Aylin would've dealt with these conditions before it actually started to hit her. Or would it have hit her ever? And if it did, would it have been too late by that time? Luckily, we don't have to wonder about that because Peter planted that seed in her brain, it just needed a little rain water and some sunlight to sprout into a full on realization.

Nope! NOPE NOPE NOPE!!! RUN AYLIN! GTFO AND RUN! NOW!! 😩😣

Now see, Aylin, here's what were not gonna do... We're not gonna blame yourself, the victim, here! We're just gonna be strong and figure out a way out of here and back to Peter... he can help you... the two of you can help each other... we're also NOT going to DRINK THAT FUCKING TEA!!!! 😱😨 Also, 😭🥺 'Lycans' and not 'Werewolves' made me super duper smiley for some reason. Like she was finally accepting that they weren't always the bad guys in this case.

I could quite literally feel Aylin's skin crawling during this whole display. It's definitely been obvious how overly public these two are when it comes to 'affection' or just outright sexual acts. But I feel like it's probably a tad bit different for Aylin when those previous times have been in the company of others in the community. But this is more of a personal type of setting. Where it's literally just the three of them there and she really has no choice in the matter but to be forced to watch Sergei fondle Cal.

It also goes to show that a person's character definitely effects how others view their attractiveness. Because, and I could be completely wrong here, I feel like this Kraven kinda would have that rugged hard ass hotness about him. But his personality makes him disgusting to even think about and the same goes for Calypso. Badass bitch, who's strong and probably built very well. But her completely hideous personality makes her just as disgusting, in my eyes, as Kraven. So I feel like this scene, if involving 2 different of people, would've had a much different reaction from the audience. These two just make it unappealing. 😩 But also, I'm totally here for the sick and twisted...soo bring it on! 👀😂

Exactly!! They're so twisted and devious! And I absolutely love to hate them for it! For these reasons in particular, as well as many MANY others!

I wanted to grab the damn cup from her the moment Calypso sat it down! It's always the most delicious smelling drinks that are the most lethal it seems! 😣 So the entire time she kept nervously drinking, I was yelling "STOP IT, DAMN IT! DON'T DRINK ANYMORE!!" And now she finally notices that she's the only one touching the stuff... 😩🤦🏼‍♀️ Oh Aylin...

😩😩😩

Noooooo! I do not think you'll be fine, Aylin... Well, hopefully you will be eventually... but right now, it's not looking too promising.

Ummmm... no... nothing ever good comes from something you've gotta hide behind a bookcase! ...Unless it's a sex dungeon, and even then, in this case that'd be a hard pass for me. 😣😨

Ughhhh!!! Not the copper smell! 😭😱 This is definitely not gonna be 'fine'! I just really hope and pray that they didn't drug her to the point that they have her giving up Peter's whereabouts! 😨 He's already been through enough with Kateri... lord knows what would happen if Kraven or Calypso were to get ahold of him... 😣 And then he'd think that Aylin gave him up willingly! Nooo... my heart can't handle it!

Katie! Omg... I'm, once again, entranced and sooooo ready for part 2!

I'm most definitely scared shitless, but I also need it in the worst possible way! 😩👀 The possibilities are practically endless as to what these two twats have planned, and I am also thinking of all the possibilities that could happen as a direct consequence to that plan! So like, I just need to know!

But I will be very patient and wait for the quality that you manage every single time. Just don't be surprised if I'm messaging you everyday, 30 times a day, ranting about how much I love you and your amazing brain! Cause its literally untouchable!

I can always count on you to write anything that just blows me away and transports me to a place I didn't even know I wanted to be! 👏🏽🙌🏽

But that's probably enough of my rambling to last you a couple years 😂 I just can't help it! So, I'll just end it with telling you how much I adore you and that I'll be patiently waiting for the next update! 💖💓

(I know this random Peter gif is probably not a great 'sign off' type of GIF 😂 but he's so fucking hot and I wanted to watch him breathing heavily for a few moments... 😳😳)

CREATURE LIKE ME || CHAPTER FIVE (part one): YOU'RE IN A CULT

[TASM Peter Parker!Werewolf AU]

Story Summary: Kraven and his guild of hunters have been tracking and quelling the werewolf population for centuries. The time has come for Aylin to complete her first solo hunt to prove herself to the guild. It was supposed to be simple. One wolf, one death, one victory. She never expected to end up with a secret hostage on her hands.

Chapter Five Warnings (spoilers): mild sexual exhibitionism (fondling an exposed breast) in front of an unwilling person, being unknowingly drugged

[link to chapter index]

The familiar scent of pine soothed her worried soul as she stepped through the threshold of her home.

Their little, brown cabin, with its sturdy fireplace of stacked, gray stones, and pine needle covered roof gave off the illusion of a safe haven. She might be back in her guild’s territory but this was her house. Her home. Here, she could find respite.

It was quiet as she stood in her cozy living room. Everything was still. By mid day, her mother would have been in the communal kitchen preparing meals for anyone who might want to stop by for a free lunch. Their guild supported their members and made sure no one would ever go hungry. They functioned as a bunch of tiny parts all moving in unison to form a single, powerful behemoth. They worked on the bartering system and the good will of their neighbors. If something was taken, something else would always need to be given.

Mrs. Harkner, down the road, gave her time to teach the children academics, in return, the children would pick the crops from her garden so her focus could be spent on lesson planning. Mr. Jacobson, at the other end of town, couldn’t aim a gun to save his life, but was an expert in construction and could fix any housing issue that arose. In return, the hunters would make sure he was always provided with fresh game and a well stocked freezer. Eight year old Christopher Lennings would sell freshly made apple juice from the apple tree in his front yard every Saturday morning and all it would cost was the coolest looking rock you could find. Everyone had a job and everyone was taken care of.

As long as they followed the rules.

Aylin had formulated a plan during her five mile hike back home. She knew she would have the house to herself at this time. If she could quickly pack her car full of gear, staying out of sight, then she could head back to Peter for the next few days. During that time, she would get every bit of information she could about Kat’s pack. When she finally returned back to the guild, she could trade that information as an apology for not completing her ritual to become a full time hunter. Trading was how their guild functioned. Information could be traded for a lighter sentencing. Sergei would be more focused on taking action against an entire pack than dealing out punishments for her defiance. She could right all the wrongs before the situation got too out of hand.

It wasn’t a perfect plan but it would have to do.

The old floorboards creaked under foot to alert the only available member of the household to her presence. Her large, sleek black cat lazily rose his head off the sofa to see who dared to disturb his nap. When he caught sight of Aylin, his ears perked up and he gracefully leapt to the floor to greet her by weaving between her legs. He gave a piercing whine, begging for attention.

“Yes, yes. I missed you, too, Kedi.” Aylin bent down to scoop him into her arms where he proceeded to be carried like a baby up the stairs to her bedroom loft. “Has mom been worried about me? Have you been looking after her?”

Kedi purred, his golden eyes squinting up at her. It was a rarity to find him inside their cabin. He preferred to be out hunting for his next meal or clawing his way up the highest tree. Finding him willingly behind walls meant that he knew something was wrong. He had probably spent the night curled up next to Nesrin. Sometimes Aylin swore that he was actually a person trapped inside the body of a cat. She imagined him to be a grumpy, old man who would yell at innocent children to get off his lawn but secretly loved the attention they gave him. He was fearless, tenacious, and a ferocious serial killer of all rodents.

A family of killers. Is that all they were?

Peter’s words from this morning still buzzed around her thoughts like an annoying gnat that refused to leave her personal space.

“We’re not in a cult, right? I’d know if I was in a cult,” she mused down at the cat in her arms.

He responded with a deep, guttural purr that vibrated his entire body.

“Sergei isn’t Jim Jones or Charles Manson. He has a reason behind what we’re doing. There’s a purpose. A meaning. We’re helping people. We’re…” She paused and gave a long sigh. “My father wouldn’t have been best friends with a cult leader. He was smarter than that. He was a good man. Peter’s wrong. He doesn’t know us, does he, Keds? He’s a stupid, low life, pathetic, disgusting werewolf. He’s-”

She stopped to listen to the words falling from her lips. No one was around to hear them and she was still holding deep prejustice for a man who had done nothing but show her kindness and grace despite her attitude.

Lycans. That’s what Peter referred to himself as. Not a werewolf. A lycan. A person with the ability to shift into a wolf.

A person. Not a monster.

Good and bad people. That’s what Peter had said. There were always good and bad people regardless where you stood in the world.

Which one was she?

Aylin carefully dropped Kedi onto her bed so she could pack a bag, trying to pull her thoughts away from Peter’s grasp and focus them back onto the task at hand. Some extra clothes, camping supplies, her crossbow, and more food would be on her list of needed items. She quickly changed out of her dress and into something more practical for forest living. She began tossing clothes out of her drawer and into the waiting duffle bag. As she turned around to pack them more neatly, she stopped to see Kedi curled up under the growing pile.

“You’re not helping, Ked. You’ll suffocate under there if I zip it up,” she smiled softly down at the stubborn cat who merely squinted back at her. He was always able to lift her mood. “Okay fine, you can stay but I’m going to keep packing around you.”

She grabbed an unopened pack of spare toothbrushes and ripped it apart. Carefully, she glanced over the colors, selecting a red and blue striped one for Peter. She felt like he would suit those colors…and he really needed to brush his teeth. It had probably been a while since he had a toothbrush of his own.

With some basic grooming items taken care of and a duffle full of spare clothes, Aylin shooed Kedi out of the way to finish her getaway bag. He followed as she made a handful of trips from the house to her car, filling the trunk with everything her and Peter might need to survive for the next few days. She slammed the full trunk closed, tucking her keys into her pocket, and put her hands on her hips. A sense of determination settled over her.

“There! We have a camping stove, some canned food, extra water…I think we should be all set for a couple days,” she spoke down to the cat waiting patiently at her feet. “If you would like to come with me, Keds, I would be more than happy to bring you. I don’t think Peter would mind the extra company.”

Kedi’s fur raised along his back, his ears flattening, and he gave a long hiss before darting to the safety of the darkness under her car.

“Wha- he’s not that bad, jeeze,” she frowned at his sudden change of attitude, wondering what had set him off, when she heard the crunching of footsteps making their way up her dirt driveway.

“Going somewhere, Aylin?” The familiar baritone voice caused her skin to erupt in goosebumps. Her heart leapt into her throat as a wave of nausea overtook her. She suddenly felt faint.

She wasn’t fast enough.

The only other time she had seen Kedi display fear like that was when a black bear broke through their screened in porch one afternoon to try and grab a bite of his cat food. Even then, he had darted back out from under the safety of a chair to claw the bear across the snout before running away again. Today, he stayed hidden.

Aylin straightened her back, attempting to fix a warm smile onto her lips, and turned around to face Sergei standing in the middle of her driveway. He was dawning his signature werewolf pelt draped over his shoulders and giving her a grin that was stretched far too thin to be anything but forced. The sight of the pelt made her sick to her stomach when she thought about the person who it once was ripped from. Barbaric. He might as well be wearing a pelt of human flesh.

Where was she going? She tried to steady her fluttering heart as a million potential answers swirled around her panicked thoughts.

“I’m planning on going to the Catskills to hike along the Devil’s Path like I do every year,” she lied, thinking quickly. With the way her trunk was currently packed, it easily resembled a hiking trip. She could fake this scenario.

“Isn’t it a little early for that?” He raised his scraggly brow at her. He was starting to get flecks of silver among his dark hair. The silver stood out more prominently against the midday sun and made him look closer than usual to his age. It was rare to catch signs of him aging. He seemed to always be in his prime despite how many years have passed. “Don’t you typically do that hike closer to the summer?”

Aylin shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, “Last summer was too hot. Thought I’d go early this year.”

“In the rainy season, I imagine parts of the hike would be really dangerous?”

She held firmly onto her bluff, knowing he was trying to break her, and kept her eyes locked with his to help sell the lie, “Sure, but isn’t that part of our training? To overcome difficult feats despite the challenges that face us? Besides, it’s not called the Devil’s Path for nothing. It’s meant to keep you on your toes. I think I could use a good challenge. ”

Sergei squinted at her with a hard glare, “Yes. About that. I think we need to have a talk about exactly what challenges are facing you. Something seemed to bother you the other night, did it not?”

She could tell from his tone that he was carefully keeping his voice steady. Under the surface, he was boiling. He wanted her to pay for the other night. There had to be consequences. Aylin had not only gone against his direct orders but, in her defiance, belittled his authority in front of the guild. If there’s one thing to never do to Sergei, it would be to embarrass him. She was now caught in an unwanted game of cat and mouse and she was terrified of losing.

She widened her eyes like it was a shock to hear that and not a conversation she had been dreading, “Oh? You mean when I ran from the ceremony? I’m so sorry about that. Really. I must have eaten something weird. Probably undercooked meat. I got really sick. I spent the night on the toilet. I had to run before I had an accident in front of everyone. You know how it is. When you gotta go, you gotta go.”

He took a step closer, a dreadful smile flicked at the corner of his lips, “Really? I stopped by your house to check on you later that night. I wanted to make sure you were okay after that shameful display you pulled in front of everyone. Your mother told me you weren’t home. Poor woman was worried sick about you. She thought you might have run off and done something stupid.” He paused, closing the gap between them. The cold metal of her car door pushed against her back as he towered over her. He propped an arm against the roof of her car to pin her in place. “Well? Did you? Do something stupid, I mean.”

Her stomach flipped with nerves as she shook her head. She was going to lose this game. The cat was ready to pounce and she had nowhere to hide, caught in place, forced to face her demise. Sergei went in for the kill, sensing he was gaining the upper hand in their silent standoff, and threw a heavy arm around her shoulders. He had her locked tightly in place against his side and gave a loud, dark laugh as if that would expel the thick tension between them. She couldn’t run. Couldn’t hide. He had her exactly where he wanted.

“Why don’t you come take a walk with me, Aylin?” He started to drag her down the driveway. “Cal made rabbit stew earlier. We can have some tea and lunch and discuss our futures. I have a proposition for you. What do you say, kid?”

Despite his question, there was no choice to be had. She was going to be coming with him even if he had to throw her over his shoulder and carry her there.

“Uh, yeah, I guess that’s okay. I should go leave a note for my mom so she knows where I’m at when she gets back…” Aylin tried to dig her heels into the dirt but got shuffled along like she weighed nothing. Any resistance would be futile. She had lost the game. The cat had caught the mouse and was now boastfully parading her squirming body down the road as he carried it proudly between his salivating jaws.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll inform her exactly where you are should she come asking. There’s nothin’ to worry about. You’re safe with me. You know that.” The weight of his words hung over her like a rapidly approaching storm. There wasn’t a single ounce of truth behind anything he said.

It was only a matter of time before the cat clamped down, piercing her flesh with his razor sharp teeth.

The Kravinoff residence was the largest house in their town. A two story cabin with breathtaking floor to ceiling windows to let in all the natural light. The eaves of the red gabled roof were decorated with ornate wooden details. They had been handcarved by Sergei Sr. when he rebuilt the Kravinoff home many years ago before his passing; his final gift to his spoiled son.

Their kitchen was larger than the floor plan of her entire house with brightly painted, red cabinets to match the color of their roof. A pot of yellow sunflowers brightened up the room to soften the red and create an inviting atmosphere. Calypso lounged against the double wide, walnut island wearing nothing more than a skimpy, silk robe. Her dark, tight curly hair haloed around her head and she flashed Aylin her infamous, pointy toothed grin.

“Ah, the weakling has returned, I see,” she slinked over to the younger woman, standing tall in front of her. “Such a disappointment you gave the guild last night, was it not? I don’t know why Sergei holds you in such high regards. You don’t look like much to me.”

Sergei placed a possessive hand over Aylin’s shoulder, “Now, now, Cal. Enough teasing. Everyone makes mistakes. She says she wasn’t feeling well. Ate some bad meat. Happens to the best of us. Aylin is our guest and should be treated as such. She’s here for a chat over drinks. Why don’t you make us some of your special tea?” His eyes flashed into his wife, giving her a silent command. “The kind we save for our very important guests. Aylin needs to be reminded how much her community values her.”

Calypso smiled and bowed her head, “Of course, dear.”

Aylin was led into the dining room with the sounds of Calypso rustling through the cabinets following her out the door. A long, black cherry dining table, lined with tall chairs, greeted them. At the head of the table was a throne, carved out of the trunk of a tree and adorned with giant wolf claws at the end of the legs. Kraven sank down onto the pelt covered seat. He looked like a true king of his castle. He waved a large hand for her to sit in one of the normal chairs beside him.

She took a hesitant seat, having stayed quiet this whole time, terrified that speaking the wrong words would get her further into trouble. It was better to play defense with Sergei. Let him take the lead so she could match his energy.

“It’s been a while since you’ve been in our home,” he mused, lazily scratching at his beard. “You used to visit all the time with your father. I believe the last time you stepped foot inside these walls was when you were merely 16 years of age.”

After Samuel and Emir’s funeral.

Sergei had held a repast at his home after the burial service. Everyone in town had attended, each bringing a dish of food or drinks, to show their support for the fallen members. Nesrin was too busy weeping in the bathroom to know her daughter was getting wasted off some stolen liquor. Aylin had snuck away from the guests with her bottle in hand to hide in one of Segei’s guest rooms. The rest of the night was a blur but she distantly remembered him finding her tucked away in the corner behind a bed and holding her while she cried. Everything after that was dark. That entire year had been dark.

She remembered a time when she felt protected in his arms. His presence used to come with a warm safety. Now, it came with a foreboding sense of danger, like stumbling upon a sleeping rattlesnake. If she was careful enough, she might get away without a fight. If she took one wrong step, all it would take was a mere second for the snake to strike.

“Things got bad after-” She stopped. She didn’t need to say anything else.

Sergei gave a solemn nod, “Yes. I can imagine. Sam was my good friend. He was an important, valuable member of our guild. It was hard for everyone.”

He was studying her face, trying to read every micro expression she held, but she kept her features stiff. She should have left sooner. Maybe if she hadn't spent so much time doting on Kedi, she would have escaped before Sergei arrived. She wished she was already back with Peter and wondered how long he would stay in her trailer before he started to wonder if she’d ever return.

“Who’s Peter?” Sergei asked with an air of innocence, as if he had directly read her mind, but kept a close eye on how she responded. He was carefully studying her every move.

Aylin’s eyes widened in shock for only a split second before she softened her face but there was no doubt that Sergei had caught it. Had he read her mind? There was no other way he could possibly know about Peter…was there? Her stomach churned with nerves at the question but she raised her eyebrows in feigned confusion, “What do you mean?”

He shifted on his throne, leaning towards her, and placing his arm on the table, “When I came to pick you up, I heard you say ‘I don’t think Peter would mind the extra company.’ So, who’s Peter?”

That’s what she got for speaking out loud to a cat. She should have kept her mouth shut.

“He’s my friend,” she lied, thinking on her feet. “Works at the gas station a few miles out. He works nights. I’ve met him a few times and we got to talking. He enjoys hiking as much as me. He was planning a trip of his own so I invited him on mine. I thought we could both use the company.”

“Is he your boyfriend?” Sergei’s tone was light but his tense shoulders gave off the impression of a possessive, jealous lover. Aylin was beginning to see him as an overgrown child who refused to share his toys with others. She felt like she was nothing more than his property.

She repressed a gulp, refusing to let her eyes wander from his, “No. He’s a friend.”

He ignored her statement. “After Leah Rivera, I thought you might not be not interested in men. It’s good to know you appreciate both sides,” Sergei leaned back to give off the illusion of someone who was casually lounging instead of someone fishing for information. They were both playing a difficult game of chess, each crafting their next move, while simultaneously trying to find their opponents weakness to exploit. “Cal swings both ways, too.”

“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s just someone who enjoys hiking as much as me,” Aylin’s jaw tightened, giving him a stiff reply. She desperately hoped the heat burning behind her cheeks wasn’t outwardly noticeable. Her racing heart spiked at the mention of Leah. That was a name she hadn’t heard spoken aloud in years. “I don’t swing any way. Leah was nothing more than a friend, too.”

Liar. Leah was more than a friend. She was Aylin’s childhood best friend, her favorite person, her first crush, her first love. Leah used to be her everything.

Until she was nothing.

“Right, right,” he chuckled. “Cal and I were just friends once. I get it. But, Aylin, you know how this guild feels about outsiders. You can not trust them. It’s best you let that friendship drift away before it’s too late. I don’t want you going on a trip with that boy. It’s too dangerous. Cancel it. Stop seeing him. There’s more than enough eligible men here for you to attach yourself to. I can think of at least three off the top of my head who would love a chance. Stay within the guild.”

She had tried to stay within the guild until Sergei caught on about her and Leah’s relationship. She remembered his eyes flaring with hatred when he saw them share a quick kiss behind the school house one afternoon. Neither of the girls could understand why he would care what a couple of sixteen year olds got up to. It wasn’t long after that Leah’s entire family disappeared in the middle of the night. One day they were there, the next they were gone. Banished. No explanations given. No goodbyes said. Their empty house was demolished, as per tradition, whenever someone leaves the guild. Erase everything and build back up from scratch without the tainted memories. They were to never speak about the Rivera’s again. Every ounce of Leah’s existence in Aylin’s life was gone overnight until it was almost as if she never existed at all. If it wasn’t for the pictures hidden in a shoebox in the back of her closet, sometime’s Aylin might wonder if she dreamed up the entire thing. First, her best friend disappeared, then, her father and brother were slaughtered by wolves. Sixteen had not been kind to her.

But that was years ago. Leah was gone and so was the person Aylin used to be. She didn’t want Peter to become another pained memory added to the ever growing pile of forgotten people. She would protect this one. She wouldn’t let him be another soul for Sergei to steal from her.

Even if that made her a traitor.

She fixed a pleasant smile onto her face, “You’re probably right. I don’t know him that well anyway. I was just looking for a hiking buddy. Not a big deal and I’d better be safe than sorry. You never really know what those outsiders are like. Although, I do think I would be able to overtake him if it ever came to that. I’ve taken down werewolves. I think I can manage to get the upper hand on a random gas station employee. You’ve trained us well.” She threw Sergie her best attempt at a cheeky wink despite the anxious tightening of her throat. Her desperation for him to believe her was suffocating.

Outsiders. Traitors. Banishment.

Maybe Peter was right. She might be in a cult.

The truth hit her hard. She forced a smile onto her face despite wanting to slide under the table and crawl away.

Canceling fake plans with an imaginary boyfriend was easier than the truth of her deception. Outsider Peter was better than Werewolf Peter. One was a simple mistake at the hands of a lovestruck young woman. The other was direct treason against everything she ever knew.

He didn’t look impressed with her response.

Earthy, herbal smells wafted out from the kitchen door. She caught notes of lavender and chamomile mixed with some kind of sharp spice she was unfamiliar with. Sergei noticed her analyzing the scent.

“It’s not something we grow here in the mountains,” he remarked, blatantly ignoring her attempts to butter him up. “Calypso has family in Haiti. They send her all sorts of home grown products she can’t get here. She likes to think of herself as a bit of an alchemist when she’s in the kitchen. She makes the most wonderful tea. You’ll love it.”

As if on cue, Calypso burst through the doorway with a tray in hand. A clear teapot was placed on the table in front of them. Bits of loose herbs floated around inside the amber liquid. Skinny, swirling trails of hypnotizing white steam rose from the spout. She lifted the pot to pour out the delicious smelling tea into the delicate china cups. Aylin was handed the first one.

“For our guest,” Calypso smirked. “Made with love.”

Aylin ignored the snarky edge to her words and gave a polite smile. She took a small sip, happy for the distraction. It burned her tongue but slid smoothly down her throat. It was like nothing she’d ever had before. Warm and cozy with a sharp tang of spice as a lingering aftertaste. She took another big gulp as it gave her something to do with her fidgety hands.

Calypso perched on the thick arm of Sergei’s throne as she watched her guest drink, “How is it?”

“It’s wonderful. Thank you,” she feigned a smile. She wasn’t lying. It was delicious. She just struggled to make her voice sound genuine when her and Peter’s lives hung on her every word.

“Pleased to hear it.”

Sergei patted his wife’s thigh, “Aylin was just telling me about her gas station boyfriend. An outsider. They’re already planning a trip together.”

Calypso leaned against him, running her fingers through his hair, “A gas station boyfriend? Even she can do better than that.”

“He’s not my bo-” She was cut off by Sergei.

“I already told her that it would be best to let that relationship fade away. I think we could find her someone better. One of us. I would be doing Sam a disservice if I let his daughter run away with an outsider.”

Aylin bit her tongue and refused to mention that her mother was once an outsider. The longer they stayed on the topic of her lie, the more anxious she became. She didn’t want to have to keep thinking on her feet. It was exhausting her psyche.

“I said I would. It’s not a big deal,” she huffed, taking another sip of her tea. “He means nothing to me. I just thought it might be fun to have someone to hike with but I prefer being on my own anyway.”

Calypso smirked, “That’s what I like to hear. Outsiders are nothing. They don’t deserve your time of day. You have everything you need right here.” She shifted her body to lean forward, her deep brown eyes penetrating into Aylin’s very soul. “We’re all you need.”

She was most definitely in a cult. How could she have ever been so oblivious?

She might be the stupidest person alive.

This would be her downfall. The people she loved and fought to protect were the one’s holding the knife. They would be the ones to fatally stab her. Not the Lycans.

Before the realization could overtake her, Calypso’s loose robe had fallen open when she moved and her right breast had pushed its way out from the silky material. The sight of the woman’s freshly exposed skin caused her spiraling mind to halt. Sergei’s arm wrapped around his wife to grasp onto her breast, absentmindedly flicking her dark nipple with his thumb, as they both stared in her direction. Aylin’s ears heated up with a mixture of disbelief and horrific embarrassment. She quickly averted her gaze to the table. She got uncomfortable watching people kiss in public. Watching someone blatantly fondle his wife in front of her made her want to claw out of her own skin. They had always been overly affectionate with each other but it had never been as in her face as it was now. This was different. New. It was like they were challenging her. Like this was some kind of sick test she’d have to pass. From the moment Sergei showed up behind her, she was being tested. Her every move was stuck under a microscope and picked apart with a watchful eye.

These were not the people she once thought they were.

A new found hatred wrapped around her like a warm blanket. They were toying with her. Teasing her. Playing with her. They were getting off on watching her squirm. They liked this.

This was who they really were.

Aylin focused on her tea to keep herself distracted. She heard Calypso stifle a laugh under her breath. They were getting off on her discomfort. Her head was starting to feel dizzy and her heart felt like it was pounding in her ears. She suddenly felt very sweaty like there was a fire igniting in her stomach and spreading up her chest towards her throat. She hated them. That much was clear to her now. The guild was not a safe place. It never was. It had only felt that way because she was drinking the Kool Aid along with everyone else just like Peter said. Her whole life she had been fed a lie which she happily lapped down. Her world was crumbling down around her. Piece by piece it fell with deafening crashes and she was beginning to suffocate on the smokey rubble filling her lungs.

A headache was rapidly growing and her vision blurred for a millisecond before she blinked it back into focus.

“Ms. Aylin was just about to tell me what happened last night,” Sergei spoke, still massaging Calypso without any hint of embarrassment. His tone had flipped, losing the fake lightheartedness from earlier. He was serious. There was no more time for games. “She was going to explain exactly why she refused to kill a wolf in front of her entire guild.”

She was?

“For someone who claims to have killed two on her own, without any proof, you’d think a malnourished, caged bitch would be easy,” Calypso remarked. “It sounds to me like there might be a little white lie hiding somewhere in your story, dear girl. Don’t worry, darling, you can tell us. We won’t judge. We just want the truth.”

She took another sip of the tea to avoid having to answer them right away. Was she the only one drinking? Neither of them had touched the stuff.

Aylin didn’t want to look in their direction to check. She didn't want to watch what they were doing. They were making her uncomfortable on purpose. A power play. A way to prove that she was nothing but inferior to them. She didn’t want to be here. Her head felt like it was swimming with a million thoughts but none of them were making it to her lips. Her body was refusing to function. She couldn’t make her mouth and brain work as one.

“I, uh,” she stuttered over her words. “I…”

Her mind was starting to feel like it was slowly filling with sand. An hourglass at the verge of tipping. Her mouth felt dry so she downed the rest of her cup.

“That girl- she…she…was just…so…so young…” Aylin gave a slow blink, her chin bobbing down to her chest before quickly steadying her head back upright. “I…feel…”

She was suddenly exhausted. The empty tea cup slipped from her hand to shatter into pieces across the floor. She finally turned her attention to the couple, fearing that she was coming down with an illness. She was seeing double. Their forms wavered like rain in a puddle.

“Something’s not right,” she whispered.

“That would be the tea,” Sergei spoke, his voice steady. “Don’t worry, my dear. You’ll be fine.”

He pushed himself up from his throne to walk over to her. Aylin slumped into his arms, feeling paralyzed, as he easily lifted her to his chest. He cradled her there while he moved through his house, each room flashing slowly before her lagging eyes, until he stopped in front of a large bookcase.

“Wha-” she tried to speak but words were useless to her.

Sergei kicked his foot at something hidden against the side of the bookcase, tucked away from view, where the wall meets the floor.

With a low grumble, the bookcase slid slowly to the right to reveal a set of wooden steps leading underground. They creaked underfoot as he carried deeper into the abyss.

The musty smell of mildew and copper hit her nose.

“No…” Aylin managed to whisper, in a last ditch effort to protect herself before the drugs completely captured her mind.

“Sleep now,” Calypso purred over Sergei’s shoulder. “We have some important business to discuss. You’ll need your strength. Shh, drift off, little one. We’ll keep watch over you. Sleep.”

[CHAPTER FIVE (part two)]

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