#I wish I had the time/energy/~focus~ to actually write this

[gretavangroupie]

Imber

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 21.5k

Warnings: Camping Jake, Cursing, Alcohol, Arguing, Pining, Angst, Severe Weather, Kissing, Graphic Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Fluff.

A/N: I had a thought and couldn't let it go. Special thanks to @gretavanmoon and @builtbybrokenbells for always supporting me and listening to my rambling voice memos. Love you both.

You watch as the familiar white Jeep pulls into your driveway, a cloud of dust filling the air as the car shifts into park. It’s only seconds before Clara is bounding out of the passenger door, running up to meet you on your porch.

“Clara…” you say, a suspicious look on your face.

“Josh said he wanted to tag along since he’s home…I couldn’t say no! Don’t be mad!” she whines nervously, knowing good and well this was supposed to be a girls weekend. 

You squint your eyes at her and let out a faux huff of annoyance, “It’s fine,” you say, sending her a playful smile.

“Are you sure?” she asks, bending down to help you grab your camping supplies. 

“Of course, Clara. I was just kidding around. You know I love Josh, and I know you hardly ever get to do stuff like this together. In fact, if you two want to just go, I can stay–”

“No way. You’re absolutely coming! Don’t start!” she shouts, slinging your duffle bag over her shoulder. “Let’s get you loaded up and on the road.”

The two of you spend the next few minutes organizing your things into the trunk, tetrising a few items until the trunk door would shut. You climb into the backseat, taking up residence next to the cooler packed with food for the weekend. 

“Hi Y/N! Thanks for letting me crash your camping trip!” Josh says, turning around in the driver's seat to flash you a smile. 

“Of course! I mean, if I knew that you were going to be home we could have planned like, a whole thing. It’s really no big deal. The more the merrier!” you answer, feeling Clara’s hand reach back to squeeze yours in thanks.

“Just a little break, only three weeks or so then we are back to it. Germany next,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows at you in the rearview mirror. 

You listen to him and Clara talk about the next leg of his tour, seeing the city start to taper off outside the car window. The trees are growing thick and the signs of humanity are next to none. 

“So where exactly are we going on this camping adventure, Clara?” you laugh, never really discussing a location in your earlier planning. 

“We’re going out to Leiper’s Fork, have you ever been there?” Josh answers.

“No, but I’ve heard of it!”

“Yeah, it’s a super cool little spot. Super secluded and gorgeous this time of year. Been out here a few times,” he says, letting his hand move to rest on Clara’s thigh. 

“How did you even find this? I feel like we are in the middle of nowhere!” you laugh, letting your eyes focus on the multicolored trees out the window. 

“Oh this is Jake’s spot. He’s always out here. Likes to come out here to write,” he pauses, turning to look at Clara. You can sense the nervous energy in his voice,  “He’s um, he’s actually going to be joining us.”

“Oh?” 

You feel a rush of panic wash over you. To say that your relationship with Jake was a bit rocky would be an understatement. You weren’t sure if there was ever really one thing that started it, one thing that made him dislike you so much, it just kind of evolved into what it is. You always seemed to find yourself in the same room as him, at the same parties with him, and attending the same shows, thanks to Josh and Clara. Though, neither of you ever bothered to speak to each other, let alone acknowledge the other's existence. It turned into an unspoken feud, filled with harsh whispers and judgemental glances, letting Josh and Clara be the buffer between the two of you. 

The thought of him joining you this weekend had you wishing you never agreed to the trip in the first place, and you know that they waited until you were this far out of town to break the news to you. 

“It will be fine babe, don’t worry. He will keep to himself like usual,” Clara says, sending you a guilty look. 

“Clara…”

“She’s right. He is different when we come out here. He might even be nice, who knows,” Josh laughs. It eases your anxiety just enough and you find yourself agreeing to this set up.

“Alright, it’s fine. I mean, it’s only two days anyway.”

–

The three of you spend most of the afternoon setting up your tents, wrestling the skinny fiberglass poles through the brightly colored fabric in fits of laughter. You took up shop beneath an old Oak tree, hoping it would provide a bit of shelter from the sun and the wind. Clara and Josh set up their tent just across from you, closer to the car and the fire pit. 

You organized your things in your tent, listening as Josh got chairs set up around the fire pit. He and Clara pulled the cooler from the car, tossing you a beer and as the sun started to dip in the sky, you talked about dinner and made plans for tomorrow's adventures. 

It was nearly sunset before you heard the rumble of tires as Jake’s Jeep pulled up to the campsite. You all snap your heads in his direction, seeing him jump out of the drivers side with a smirk on his lips. 

“Glad you could join us,” Josh teases. 

“Can’t rush these things,” he counters, nodding his head to Clara as a hello. His eyes flick over you and you watch as the expression on his face changes. His jaw tightens and his lips flatten into a thin line. A grumble of something leaves his lips in a whisper, and you don’t even have to hear it to know what he said wasn't pleasant. 

You look away quickly, turning your attention back to the vegetables you were cutting up for dinner. He turns back towards his car, gathering his things from the trunk as he continues to gripe incoherently. 

You focus on Josh and Clara, who are working on their own dinners, trying to keep the conversation flowing and ease the obvious tension. 

Jake tosses his things to the ground, preparing to set up his tent next to yours. You don’t dare tell him that it’s yours, and he doesn't dare ask. You continue to fill the tin foil with vegetables and meat, letting them marinate just long enough to get the fire started. 

“Jake, let’s go,” Josh says, motioning him over towards him.

“Go where,” he asks. 

“Need to gather firewood and I’m not making Clara carry it,” he says. Jake nods and gets up, jogging over to meet him. The two of them disappear into the thick woods, leaving you and Clara by yourselves at the campsite.

“This is going just great, wouldn’t you say?” you taunt, elbowing Clara from your camp chair. Her gaze is completely fixed on her phone, her eyes frantically flicking around the screen. 

“Hello? Earth to Clara?” you continue, still unable to break her away from her phone. 

She gets up and walks around, holding her phone to the sky in hopes of strengthening her signal.

“What's up, is everything okay?” you shout, starting to feel a little nervous. 

“Yeah, um, it’s fine. I think? I don’t know. I just got a weird text from my sister, and now I don’t have any service,” she says, biting at her bottom lip. 

“You can use mine if you want, I don’t know if my service is any better though. We are kinda in the middle of nowhere.”

“It’s– It’s fine. I think,” she says, sitting back down in her chair next to you. 

“Anyway, what were you saying? Sorry, I suck,” she says, turning to look at you apologetically.

Just as you go to speak you hear the crunching of leaves and sticks, and see the shadowy figure of the two men returning with an arm full of firewood. 

“Well, nothing now,” you laugh, motioning to Josh and Jake. 

“Oh, okay, later?” she asks, hoping you will fill her in. 

“Yes, later,” you mumble.

Josh and Jake step up, tossing the wood into a pile next to the fire pit. “That should be enough for two days,” Josh says, dusting his hands off on his jeans. 

Jake’s eyes meet yours, only for a second before storming off to his car. You shake it off and try to focus on Josh as he builds the fire in front of you, using an obnoxious amount of lighter fluid in the process. 

“Clara he is going to light us all on–”

Her phone ringing interrupts you, grabbing her attention as she rushes to answer it. She stands up and walks away towards the car, and you watch as her demeanor shifts into panic. Your eyes meet Josh’s, both of you feeling uneasy about whatever is happening on that phone call. She rushes back over to you, her face fear stricken and her hands visibly shaking. 

“Josh, we have to go! We have to go right now!” she shouts, frantically rushing around and grabbing things from inside their tent.

“What? Clara, what's going on?!” he asks, trying to calm her down. 

“Ashton! She’s going into labor! She’s on her way to the hospital right now! She wasn’t due until next week! I don’t know, I don't know! But we have to go right now!” she says, pulling out of his grip and continuing to grab her things and throw them in the car. 

“Oh shit! Okay, yes, yes we can go, um…” he pauses, looking over towards Jake at his tent and you sitting in the chair in front of him, “Fuck, um…Y/N, do you uh, want to come with us, or–”

“Shit, Y/N, I’m so sorry! I had no idea or I wouldn’t have– fuck, you should just… stay, enjoy the campsite and just relax. I’m so sorry I promise I will make this up to you!” Clara cries, her nervous energy transferring to you. 

It’s mere seconds before her and Josh are jumping into his car and pulling out of the campsite, abandoning their tent, their dinner and the rest of their belongings. 

Fuck.

You stand up from your chair, processing what exactly happened as you stare at the roaring fire. 

“Where uh, where did they go?” Jake asks, appearing from his tent as he hears the car peeling out of the campsite. 

You turn to look at him, shocked that he even spoke to you, while also realizing that now it’s just the two of you. Alone.

“They– Clara’s sister is having her baby. Early. They just…left– I–”

“Left?” he asks, “Like for good?”

“I…think so…” you answer, watching as he drags his hand across his face. The hem of his flannel lifts in the process revealing the tiniest peek at his tanned torso, so you quickly divert your eyes before he notices your staring. 

“Of course,” he gripes, kicking at the pile of firewood. He mutters something under his breath and you feel a wave of embarrassment at the thought of him dreading being around you this much. 

He huffs out a breath and turns to you, “Well, do you want to stay here or–”

“I mean, do you want to stay?” you question, shrugging your shoulders noncommittally. 

“I have no issue with staying. I know you were only here for them, so if you want to leave I promise it’s not going to hurt my feelings. I’m used to being out here alone anyway,” he says, his tone a little clipped. “Prefer it.”

“Are you going to be mad if I do want to stay?” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You let your eyes meet his for a few seconds, both of you looking at each other as he thinks of his answer.

Again he rubs his hand over his face, shaking his head, “No, no I won’t be fucking mad– I just– Do you want to fucking stay, yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Okay. Then we’ll stay,” he says, lowering the sound of his voice. His eyes flick around your face for a few seconds before turning to look at the fire. You can tell he is agitated, but when is he not?

“Jesus, he always uses too much fluid,” he gripes, turning his attention to the flames. “Pyromaniac.”

“Well, I guess we can throw these on?” you say, picking up the tin foil packets. 

“Yeah yeah, um, just set ‘em there,” he says, looking up to you from his crouched position next to the fire pit.

“Do you…want a drink or something?” you ask, feeling the awkwardness between you growing quickly. You can feel the hostility pouring off of him, and getting a drink seems to be you only escape plan.

“What’s in there?” he asks, looking over towards the cooler. 

“Beer?” you pause, “I don’t know, Josh packed it.”

“Whatever’s in there is fine,” he says, tossing the foil packets onto the flames.

You make your way to the cooler, grabbing two icy cans and returning to your chair to see Jake sitting in the one on the opposite side of the fire pit. You hand the can to him, seeing a side smile pull across his lips as he nods his head in thanks. 

“Got something stronger in the car if you want it,” he smirks, popping the tab on his can.

The small sliver of a smile nearly takes your breath away. “Oh, um, no this is good. Thank you though.”

It’s quiet between the two of you, both of you sipping at your beers as you watch the fire in front of you. You want to say something to him, start a conversation, maybe even chip away at his tough exterior, but you know that comes with risks. Risks you aren't willing to take while stranded in the woods for the next two days. 

It’s him though, that strikes up a conversation, but it’s not to make small talk, it’s to get answers. 

“Why do you even want to stay if Clara left?” he asks, bringing his can to his lips. 

You take a second to think about it, “Well, because I bought all this camping stuff, mostly. I’ve been looking forward to this little trip. I like being in nature, and I don’t get to do it often enough. Going in the woods alone as a woman isn’t exactly the safest either. So yeah, it sucks they had to leave but I’d rather be here than back at my place staring at my camping supplies sitting at my front door.”

“No other reason?” he asks, lowering his voice a little as he pokes at the foil packs with a stick.

You shake your head slowly, “Not that I can think of, no.”

He scoffs and flips the packets over before sitting back in his chair. You can feel him judging you, and the silence as he snickers at you confirms it. 

“Don’t be like that, Jake. You wanted to stay, too.”

“Yeah, but I come out here all the time. This is my damn spot,” he snaps.

“Well excuse me for intruding! I can call a fucking cab but I don’t think they will find me out here!”

“Jesus, relax,” he groans, “You know what? That's your problem. You’re too…you’re too uptight.”

“I’m uptight?!” you gasp, “What about you?! Mister, brooding misunderstood rockstar, can't stand to be in the same room as a person that doesn't fall at his feet and sing his praises,” you bark. 

“No, see, that's where you’re wrong. I’m not brooding or misunderstood. The people that I want to know me, know me just fine. I just don't put my feelings on display for everyone I meet. I have a certain way I like to live my life. And if that comes across as brooding and misunderstood, then so be it.”

“You know, you’re insufferable sometimes…” you grit.

“Well thank you for your input. I’ll be sure to put that in my diary later,” he snickers. 

“Do you have any respect for anyone?” you shout from across the fire.

“Of course I do. Those who earn it,” he says, raising his eyebrows. 

“You’re so–” you pause, grunting in frustration when you struggle to find the words.

“Sorry I have standards, sweetheart,” he says, taking another long pull of his beer. 

“Standards? What is that supposed to mean?” you shout, feeling yourself getting a little worked up. 

He glances up at you over the fire, “I don't let just anyone come into my life and get all up close and personal. You have to earn that. Which means my standards are a little higher than most.”

You cut your eyes at him, “Why are you like this? All cold and cryptic…I don’t even know what I did to make you dislike me this much.”

His eyes are dark and unyielding, his lips turning into a smile as he laughs, “I never said I dislike you. You just don't like how I present myself because it goes against what you’re used to. You're used to easy going guys, who let you do anything you want because you’re pretty. Not guys who are a little closed off and reserved. You don't want a little bit of a challenge.”

“Who said I even want you at all?” you bite back.

“You didn’t need to say it, sweetheart. You’re easy to read,” he says, sending you a smug grin. 

“Well, find a different book.”

“You’re also a smartass,” he says, leaning forward to pull the foil packets from the fire with a stick. He carefully opens up the hot foil, and checks them to make sure they are cooked through. His eyes flick up to yours, “Hungry?”

“Yeah, I am,” you say begrudgingly, leaning forward to reach for the foil wrapped food. You unroll the foil and reach for the plastic forks, offering one to Jake. He takes it with the raise of his brow, casually picking at the food in the silver wrap. 

“Explains a few things,” he mutters with a smirk. 

“Is this how this is going to be? Are you just going to dig at me all weekend until we go our separate ways?” you ask, starting to feel a little fed up.

“You tell me. Is that what you want?” he asks, biting a carrot from his fork. 

“No, I want us to just get along the best we can. I want this to be at least a little enjoyable.”

He looks at you for a moment and seems to soften a bit. “Fine,” he says, “So what would you like to talk about then, sweetheart?"

You roll your eyes at the pet name you’ve adopted, “I don't know, what do you enjoy talking about? Pretend it's not me. Tell me about life on tour or something.”

He nods and picks at his food, seemingly thinking for a minute before he speaks. “Well,” he begins, “The tour has been good, a few bumps along the way. We hit some bad weather in Huntsville that delayed one of our shows for a night, but other than that it was a good run. I think everyone is holding up fine.”

“What about you, though. Are you holding up fine?” you ask. 

He seems taken aback by the question. He looks at you with a surprised expression, almost as if it’s the first time someone has asked him about himself. He looks down at his food and is quiet for a moment before mumbling, “Yeah…I’m fine. Why?”

“I don't know, you just seem...agitated with everything lately. Every time I see you, you just seem quiet.”

He looks up at you again, holding eye-contact for a minute. He is tempted to deny it, to tell you everything is fine, but he doesn’t. Maybe there’s a part of him that wants to be honest with you. The other part terrified of letting you see through the walls he has worked so hard to build up.

“That’s just how I am,” he says quietly. He glances up at you and then back at the fire again, “That’s how I present myself. And it’s always been that way. It’s how people expect me to be most of the time and I don’t blame them. Most of my music is written about heartache and struggle whether personal or not. It’s everything I am. But I’m fine, sweetheart. I’m always fine.”

You shrug your shoulders, not wanting to pry anymore, feeling satisfied with the little bit he’s allowed you,. “Okay.”

The two of you eat in silence for a few more minutes, the wind starting to pick up, as the leaves rustle behind you. Jake seems to have softened a bit since your earlier banter, and you wonder if he is feeling a little guilty for his hand in the taunting. 

He looks at you again with a raised eyebrow, “What about you, then? Are you fine?”

He’s asking about you? 

“I mean, yeah. I think I'm fine. There are some things I wish were different, but that's life,” you offer, not wanting to delve too far into things. Not that he would care anyway. 

He seems a little taken aback with your response. Not that it surprised him that you have personal problems, but he wasn’t expecting you to be honest with him. Almost anyone else would have painted a perfect picture and made themselves appear significantly better than they actually were. There was a moment between you two when the only sound was the crackling of the fire and the chirping of Cicadas before he quietly spoke again.

“What do you wish were different?”

“Ahh, it’s nothing really. Just sometimes I wonder if I am where I am supposed to be. You know, the normal stuff,” you say, offering him a smile.  

He looks at you for a beat and nods slowly, seeming to take that in. “I don’t think anyone truly knows if they’re where they’re meant to be. One of the mysteries of life, I suppose.”

“What?” you nod, encouraging him to continue. “What were you going to say? You look like you wanted to ask something.” 

He suddenly looks uncomfortable, looking back into the fire and away from you. 

“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head as if dismissing whatever he was just thinking and stands up. He walks towards the treeline with an unreadable expression on his face, and you wonder what he could possibly be thinking. The wind sends a shiver through you, and you decide to grab the s'mores ingredients from the cooler before he comes back. If he comes back. 

He walks away, disappearing into the trees as he goes to relieve himself. He stands there for a moment, his breath coming out in visible puffs in the cool night air. He runs a hand through his hair, swearing under his breath as he replays your conversation. He hates that you can break him down so easily, that you seem to understand him better than he understands himself, and worse that you even care enough to ask. 

He zips up and turns to head back towards the tent, feeling frustrated and conflicted. He knows he's being unfair to you, knows that he's acting cold and distant for no good reason. But he can't help it. It’s all he can do. He doesn't want to get close to people, doesn't want to let them in. Especially not you. 

You work quickly trying to place the marshmallows on sticks, finding it to be a lot harder than you thought. With a little elbow grease and a dream you shoved the sticky blobs on the ends of the sticks, dangling them gingerly over the open flames. 

With both hands occupied it's hard to shield your arms from the cool wind that is dancing through your campsite. A chill rises to your skin despite the warmth of the fire. You quickly forget about it though as you see Jake reappearing through the treeline. He walks up with his hands in his pockets, his eyes studying you as you roast the two marshmallows. 

“What are you up to now?” he asks, raising a brow. 

“I mean…Roasting marshmallows, what do you mean?” you ask, confused as to why he was confused. 

His eyes roam over you and a small smirk appears at the corner of his mouth. He leans a little bit closer to study what you’re doing, laughing under his breath.

“You’re going to burn them, sweetheart.”

“No I’m not. I know what I’m doing, thank you,” you quip, rotating the sticks. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “If you’re not careful, you’ll end up with a mess of black, gooey, sugar.”

He moves a little closer behind you, until his chest is mere inches away from your back. His voice drops to a teasing whisper against your ear. “But, by all means, continue.”

If the goosebumps weren’t already taking up residency on your body, they would be now. He takes the chair next to you this time, instead of his previous one across from you. You don’t question it, and he doesn’t mention it, so you leave it at that. 

You watch as the marshmallows start to puff up, knowing they are done and ready to be put on the graham cracker, but that's when you realize you only have two hands, and this is in fact, about to go south quickly.

“Here, hand one to me,” he says, grabbing the stick from your hand. “Put that one together, and then do this one.”

You work quickly to assemble the marshmallow, chocolate and graham cracker, your fingers growing into a sticky, sugary mess as it starts to deflate. It’s melting the chocolate perfectly, and you think you may have just made the perfect s’more. The wind starts to whip a little harder, blowing your hair around your face just a little too much. Jake hands you the stick back, letting you assemble the other s’more, trying to push your hair out of your face with your wrist. 

From his spot next to you, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching you struggle, giggling a little under his breath as you fight through the mess of hair in your eyes. 

You place the chocolate on the cracker before trying to position the marshmallow on top, a huff of frustration falling from your lips as you push your hair back with the side of your arm. “Fuck,” you growl. 

You hear him laugh again, but this time it's accompanied with him standing up from his seat. You turn your head and watch as he pulls a black hair tie from his finger. His fingers brush against your neck for a moment, gathering your hair into his fist and pulling it up into a quick ponytail. It is an unexpectedly sweet and careful gesture on his part, taking you completely by surprise. 

He steps back and looks over you, now with your hair out of the way. “There,” he says, taking his seat once more.

“Th–thank you,” you squeak out, still reeling over the feeling of his hands on your skin. 

There is a beat of silence between you where he just looks at you. His eyes drift from your face down to your fingers and the gooey mess you had created from assembling the s’mores. 

He suddenly snickers,“You’re a mess, sweetheart.”

You shrug your shoulders and offer him the perfect s’more, reaching for your own and sinking your teeth into the melty goodness. You were right, it was perfect. Probably the best you’d ever made. Screw him for saying you were going to burn it. 

You turn to look at him, ready to see his reaction to the perfectly made treat. He bites into it, staring at the fire as he chews, swallowing down his first bite before he turns to you. 

“You know, I kind of hate these,” he smirks. 

“What?” you ask, taking another bite. 

“I never have liked them. My whole life, really.”

“Then why– Why are you eating it? You didn’t have to eat it,” you say, suddenly feeling guilty. 

“I dunno. I want to. I guess ‘cause you made it for me.”

You feel your heart drop into your stomach, watching him intentionally take another bite as he settles back in his camp chair. There is a new tension floating in the air now, it's less uncomfortable and more heavy with things unsaid. 

He turns to look at you again, his face glowing in the orange fire light, “It actually isn’t terrible. I will admit.”

“So what you’re saying is that you love my cooking?” you tease.

He laughs, as he swallows his last bite, “Well, I didn’t say that. The fact that you call this cooking is questionable.” His tone is teasing, and you watch as he licks a dribble of chocolate from his thumb. It causes more of a reaction within you than you ever anticipated, and again you thank the wind for causing the goosebumps. 

“I think I have some paper towels  in the car, I’ll be right back.” he says, standing and walking over to his car. You can hear him digging around in his trunk as you stare off at the trees in the distance, trying to make any sense of the feelings rushing through your body right now. Why is he sort of sweet? Why is he sort of really sexy when he’s not being an asshole?

A flash in the trees catches your eye, snapping you from your thoughts and raising your blood pressure. You stare intently, watching for it again, hearing Jake approaching from your left. You see the flash again, accompanied by two others, and a smile crosses your face. 

Jake steps up behind you, tossing a thick flannel in your lap as he takes his spot next to you, offering you a handful of wet wipes to clean your sticky fingers. You glance down at the shirt laying across your legs and turn to him in surprise.

“Noticed you were cold, that's all.”

You clean your hands the best you can before sliding the thick flannel shirt over your arms, letting the warmth and the smell envelop your senses. This was not helping with the thoughts you were having a few minutes ago. You turn your sights back to the trees, watching the little orbs buzz around overhead.

“Fireflies…” you whisper, watching a few zaps of yellow buzz around in the old Oak trees.

He hums as he sees them light up, “They are in all of the trees out here. One of my favorite things,” he admits.

“Jake?”

He turns to look at you, nodding for you to continue. 

“Why do you come out here alone all the time?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

His expression darkens slightly as he hears the question, and he is quiet for a moment before answering. “It’s just peaceful I guess,” He shrugs and looks out into the darkness of the trees instead of you. “Not everyone is cut out to be around people all the time.”

“You don’t ever get lonely?”

A beat of silence passes and he glances back at you. This time, his usual smirk has disappeared and is replaced by a more serious look. He doesn’t answer the question, but there is a look in his eyes that makes you think maybe he is more lonely than he wants to let on.

“I’m comfortable with my own company,” he says quietly. The fire is still smoldering in front of the two of you, the flames gone now, leaving a pile of glowing embers snapping and popping as they work to extinguish themselves. 

You pull the sleeves of his flannel over your hands, catching his attention and pulling a tiny smirk to the corners of his lips. He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tries to focus on the fireflies again. It feels nice sitting with him like this. Just talking, no witty remarks or snappy comebacks. Just two people, talking. 

“Don’t you ever wish you had someone to share this with, though? Your spot?” you ask, giving him a playful grin.

He watches you for a moment, considering the question. There is a part of him that wants to be defensive and cold, shutting you out and telling you he doesn’t want that. But the look in your eyes and the softness of your tone tells him he can’t lie to you about this. He breaks eye contact momentarily, his gaze falling downward to his hands in his lap.

“Sometimes…” he mumbles under his breath. 

You aren’t sure why, but that goes straight to your heart. Sure he said he was fine earlier, but now you’re starting to see that maybe that isn’t completely true. It’s quiet for a moment, and you spend each second gathering up the courage to continue the conversation.

He glances at you again, this time having a look on his face that says he wishes he hadn’t confessed that to you. He suddenly becomes much more uncomfortable, trying to cover it up by acting nonchalant, adjusting his position in his chair and fidgeting with the fire. He clears his throat and looks to you again, “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”

It catches you off guard. Him not only abruptly ending the conversation, but the rest of the evening. You know he is right, you probably should go to sleep, but part of you feels like the conversation is unfinished, and you think he knows that, too. 

“Oh, um, okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.” you say, standing from your chair with a stretch. You can feel his eyes on you, burning holes into your skin. “Is the fire going to be okay?”

He laughs a little, nodding his head, “Yeah, yeah. Just embers now. It will smolder out in an hour or two,” he says. 

You nod your head and pull your flannel covered arms across your chest tightly. You start to make your way over to your tent, your mind flooded with the vision of him just moments ago, soft and glowing in the firelight. You look back at him, still standing at the fire, watching you walk to your tent. He nods with a smirk and starts walking toward his own tent. Before going in, he looks back at you, his eyes meeting yours.

“Night.”

“Night, Jake,” you answer, reaching for the zipper. He nods and watches as you step inside, waiting until you’re safely inside before he lets out a deep sigh.

He can’t quite put his finger on why he suddenly feels so off-kilter. You’ve shaken him in a way no other has been able to. There was something about that conversation earlier, you asking what he wanted. How he was doing.  How he feels. The way your features softened as you listened to him and made him want to tell you the truth. He didn’t like how it made him feel, like every falsity he had built up about you in his mind was exactly that. He had spent so long pushing you away and talking you down to himself that now, here, where he can’t escape you, he is faced with the fact that you’re exactly the girl he thought you were, and everything he has always known deep down is true.. 

Inside your tent, you rummage around in your duffle bag looking for something to sleep in. As you pull an old t-shirt from the bag you pull his flannel from your body, setting it aside while you change. You don’t know why, but you find yourself reaching for it again and layering it over your shirt. You pull it to your nose to breathe it in now that you’re alone in the confines of your tent. It smells of smoke and tobacco, a sweet earthy undertone pulling you into its spell as your eyes flutter closed.

You can hear him zipping his tent, the faint glow of his lantern casting a shadow of his figure against the tent fabric. You hear the buckle of his belt as he pulls it from the loops on his jeans, and you do your best to look away. But with the smell of his cologne invading your senses, you claim temporary insanity and watch as his shadow pulls his shirt over his head and slides out of his jeans. You swallow heavily as you watch his shadow settle down into his sleeping bag and turn off the lantern.

You do the same, turning off your headlamp and getting inside your sleeping bag, doing your best to get comfortable. Even though the air is warm, the ground is cold and you shiver slightly.  It’s difficult to get comfortable in the new environment and you find yourself rolling over and shifting around a lot, almost matching the state of your brain. Eventually, the sound of the cicadas lure you to sleep, and as your eyes shut it's a soft, fireside Jake that is on your mind. 

—

The birds chirping in the tree above you wakes you. Your eyes crack open and you immediately notice the cool chill in the air. You sit up and yawn, stretching out your limbs and buttoning the buttons on the flannel for a little extra warmth. As you step outside of your tent a cool fog envelops you, causing you to shiver. You see a small fire has been built in the fire pit already, so you gather that Jake is already awake.

You make your way to your camp chair, noticing it has been wiped of the dew already, and is ready for you to occupy it. Your eyes search the foggy landscape for any sight of him, finding him standing at the tailgate of his Jeep fiddling with something. He catches sight of you, and nods, motioning that he will be over soon. 

Minutes later he is approaching with two camp mugs filled with what you can only assume is coffee. The steam is swirling from the tops of the mugs blending in with the fog surrounding you. 

“Morning,” he says, offering you the blue speckled mug. 

“Morning,” you smile, accepting it from his hand. “You have all the accessories, don’t you?”

He smiles, and nods gently, “I’m very serious when I commit to things.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“It is.” His gaze travels over you for a moment. He can’t help but appreciate just how good you look in the morning. The messy hair and the sleepy expression, combined with his flannel, you’re practically driving him insane.

“Do you think we will be able to see the sunrise through the fog?” you ask, sipping at the black coffee.

He squints thoughtfully out into the fog, taking in the thickness of it. He can’t see anything through the haze and honestly doubts you will be able to see much of anything.

“Hard to say,” he shrugs. “Depends on how long it hangs on.”

You nod in understanding, returning to the quiet morning, listening to the chirping of the birds in the distance. “You know it is really beautiful out here, I see why you come out here.”

He smiles a little, appreciating your change of attitude from last night.

“I thought you’d like it,” he said with a hint of a smirk. He glances back out into the fog where everything is hazy and unclear. “It’s nice and quiet here. No one around for miles, other than us of course. I like that best of all.”

“You know, I might even come back here one day,” you smile, feeling your chest grow warm at his last words. 

He suddenly looks surprised that you’re considering returning. He usually had a comeback for anything you said, but for this, he was quiet for a moment, considering your words.

He glances around at the surrounding area, the trees and shrubs all covered in the dense fog. He feels almost defensive about you seeing this place as beautiful. It was his place, his special place, and he wasn’t sure why he felt so weird that you were appreciating it. He falls silent for a moment as he watches you enjoy the surroundings, sipping the coffee he made for you as you sit in his flannel. The peaceful look on your face as you look out into the fog causes his chest to feel warm. He would never admit it, but he wants to bring you back here as often as you want to come.

He clears his throat and looks back at you. “Maybe we can take a walk before it clears up.”

You can feel the blush creeping up your chest, your cheeks burning at the thought that he might actually want to spend the day with you. 

“Yeah, I think I’d like that. Anything cool to see out here?”

He takes a moment to think, rubbing his fingers against his lips, “There’s a pretty decent hike to a creek not too far, we could go that way. Only if you’re not scared of a little wilderness along the way,” he smirked.

“I’m not scared,” you answer, raising a brow in challenge. 

“You bring a bathing suit?” he asks, tipping back the last of his coffee.

“Of course,” you laugh. 

“Good, I’ll meet you back out here in say, fifteen?” he says, standing from his chair.

You nod and both make your way back to your tents, changing into your bikini that you fully did not prepare to wear in front of a man, let alone Jake. You pull a pair of denim shorts and a cut off tee over top, grabbing your hiking boots and your backpack as you make your way back out to the camp chairs. 

Jake is still in his tent, so you use the time to lace up your boots and pack a few snacks into your bag. It’s not long before Jake is stepping out, in a pair of red swim trunks and a black button down, barely hanging on to his tan frame. It seems a strange ensemble for hiking, but he is unlike any other man you knew, and it kind of just fit.

He joins you at the chairs, putting on his own hiking boots. You feel his hand reach over to check the tautness of your shoestrings, grabbing your attention. 

He looks up at you from his bent over position, “Just making sure they are tight enough, don’t need you getting blisters before we even make it to the trail head,” he smiles. 

With your bag packed and your sunglasses perched on your nose, the two of you set off into the treeline, leaving your camp behind in search of adventure. You head down the winding trail that is lined with overgrowth on either side. You can tell that not many people walk this path, and you wonder how Jake even found it in the first place. The thick brush and branches scratch at your legs as you trudge on, but you welcome it. This is what you wanted, after all.

He walks just a step behind you, watching your feet as you walk along the trail. He can’t help but notice how your legs look in your denim shorts, and he does his best not to stare. Not that you would notice. 

You turn around to look at him, noticing him a few strides behind you, “You gonna keep up with me Kiszka?”

He scoffs playfully, a bit miffed at that comment, “I’ve walked this trail a hundred times, pretty sure I can handle it.”

He takes a few quick steps to catch up to you, walking next to you now rather than a few steps behind. His shoulder brushes against yours as he walks, catching you both by surprise. 

“Why am I leading the way anyway if you know where we are going?” you tease. 

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, “You’re not ‘leading the way’ sweetheart, I’m guiding you.”

You huff in annoyance, “Guiding me? I’m not a dog…”

He smirked, thinking about how you definitely weren’t as obedient as a dog. You were much harder to control and a hell of a lot more stubborn.

He suddenly snickered and said, “Never said you were, I just don’t trust you not to wander off.”

“And go where? You’re all I’ve got out here!” you giggle, the words leaving your lips before you consider the weight of them. 

He snickered again with amusement, though his heart skipped a beat when you said that. You were all he had as well. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his swim trunks as he walked next to you, avoiding any more of the shrubs that were trying to grab onto him.

“There’s plenty of places to get lost around here if you wander off the trail. That’s why I’m making sure you don’t drift away too far.”

“Why would I want to?” you ask, a hint of flirtation evident in your tone.

He picks up on your flirty tone, letting a smirk pull across his lips. He glances over at you with a look in his eye as he registers what you meant by that comment.

“If I didn't know any better I would say you're enjoying spending time with me, sweetheart.” 

“Don’t flatter yourself, Jacob,” you quip. 

He snickers and glances over at you again, seeing that look on your face he's all too familiar with. “I don’t have to flatter myself, sweetheart. You’re the one getting all flirty.” He grins.

“Flirty? I’m not being flirty,” you lie.

He snickers again, seeing through your lie immediately. “You have a terrible poker face,” he says. He walks closer to you as he speaks, his leg brushing yours as you walk. 

You feel a chill run down your spine at the contact and you wonder if he feels it too. You decide to change the subject, worried that this conversation may have you backed into a corner. 

“Tell me how you learned to play guitar so well,” you ask, hoping he will be willing to accept your topic change. 

He lifts his gaze to the trees as he contemplates your question. He hadn’t thought about it in a while, but he still remembers those nights all too well.

“Practice, mostly. Spent hours and hours alone in my bedroom just practicing until my arms were sore and my hands locked up. But how do you know that I play well? You watch me, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, letting your hands push away a few branches, “I mean, you have to play pretty well if you're selling out arenas…”

He lets out a scoff and a smirk. He was used to people complimenting his skill but for some reason, hearing you do it makes him feel a little flustered.

“I suppose so, but you didn't answer my question,” He chuckles.

“What, have I watched you play? Of course I have. I've been to a few shows with Clara.”

He seems surprised by your confession. In that moment, he begins to wonder how many times your eyes have sought him out through the lights and over the crowd.

He clears his throat and says, “Clara dragged you out to them?”

“No, I went willingly,” you admit. 

There’s a moment of silence as he processes what you just admitted. For some reason, the thought of you going to one of his shows because you wanted to go was making his heart pound a little harder in his chest.

He looks at you with a smirk to mask how thrown off he was by that.  “How come I never saw you backstage?”

You look at him with a confused look, "Did you ever look?"

Something about that question stung. The way you said the words so casually felt like a knife through his chest. He shakes his head as he responds, “No. No, you weren't there. I would remember.”

“You're right. I never went back with Clara after the shows. Didn't want to put myself in that position. I mean, that's your space, ya know? And you and I can barely be in the same room together. We haven't even had a civil conversation until, well, right now.”

He stays silent for a moment, processing your confession. After a minute he sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “I never wanted it to be like that sweetheart.”

You huff a laugh, “Your actions over the last, oh I don’t know, two years have shown otherwise.”

He grimaces when you say that, knowing that you’re right. He knows he has been a jackass to you, but for some reason hearing you confront him about it was causing a strong pang of guilt to flare up deep within his chest. He tries to shrug it off and maintain his cool, but even he can’t deny that your words were hitting him right where it hurt. 

The two of you walk for a few moments in silence, the only sound being the crunch of branches and twigs under your feet. He glances over at you, watching the way your face looked as you focused on where you stepped along the path, and he suddenly blurts out a question.

“Why is it so easy for you to make me feel guilty?”

What?

You snap your head to look at him, “I don’t know, you tell me?”

He lets out a scoff and shakes his head, pushing a limb out of the way to let you pass. “You’ve just got this way of bringing out sides of me that I don’t understand,” he grumbles.

“What do you mean?” you ask, feeling a wave of nerves wash over you. 

He falls silent as he considers how to explain what he means. It’s a hard thing to describe. It’s more than just the way you make him feel things he doesn’t usually feel around other people. It’s more than just the way you look at him, or talk to him, that makes his heart beat harder. It’s more and he knows it.

“It’s nothing, nevermind,” he pauses, “We’re here.”

You decide to let it slide, not wanting to push him into a bad mood. The two of you walk up to the edge of the rocky creek, taking in the sights. There’s a small waterfall trickling over the rocks to your right, leading out into a swimming spot and you almost moan at how appealing a dip sounds after that hike.

Jake stands just beside you, his gaze skimming over the water. He takes in the rushing sound of the creek as it flows past the large rocks and branches. He’s secretly looking at you out of the corner of his eye, watching you stare out at the creek just like he did the first time he saw it. He takes a moment to just watch you. The way your hair looks in the sunlight is catching his eye, the way your lashes flutter as you blink, the look on your face that’s soft and calm. Watching you out here in this setting is making all sorts of different emotions swirl around inside him, but he just can’t bring himself to name any of them.

“This was worth the hike,” you say, turning to meet his gaze. 

He keeps his eyes on you as you admire the creek. The way the sunlight dances against your skin makes you look as if you’re glowing. He can’t pull his eyes away from how goddamn good you look and how peaceful you seem despite everything that had happened between you two.

“Yeah. I suppose it was worth it, wasn’t it?” He agrees reluctantly.

You pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in your bikini top and shorts. You know you want to jump in, but you will wait for him to go first. 

He’s completely caught off guard by your actions, his eyes growing wide. His gaze instantly travels down to take in your bare torso, raking over your skin and lingering for just a beat too long. He immediately clears his throat and looks away, shifting uncomfortably as he feels an unfamiliar pang of heated desire in his stomach.

“You ready to swim?” he asks. You unlace your boots and leave them on the embankment, turning to look at him as he does the same. 

“Very,” you say, nodding towards the water.

He takes a moment to compose himself and avoid staring at you while you are basically half-naked. He pulls his own shirt over his head, revealing his tanned chest and arms, and sets it down beside yours on the bank of the creek.

He dips a toe into the water cautiously to test the temperature. It’s a bit cold, but it feels refreshing on his skin after all the walking you had done to get here.

“Good, let me show you why we really came here,” he says, motioning for you to follow him up a footpath. You quickly kick off your shorts and follow after him, curious as to where he is taking you. As you reach the end of the small dirt path your eyes land on the old rope hanging from the branch of an Oak tree.

“No, no way,” you stammer. 

A mischievous smirk quirks up on his face as you look at the rope. He can tell that you’re nervous just by the look in your eyes. But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t find it cute.

“Oh come on, what happened to ‘I’m not scared’?” he teases. 

“I’m not! But this is different!” you whine. 

He walks up to the rope, grabbing a hold of it and giving it a few solid pulls to test how sturdy it is. He glances over his shoulder at you to watch your face, seeing the anxiety there in your expression.

He smirks and motions towards the creek below him, “See that spot down there? It’s perfect for jumping. It’s safe. I’ve done it a hundred times. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” you say, biting at your bottom lip. 

He grins as he watches you bite your lip. Seeing you looking so nervous and cute was making his heart twist. He steps closer to you, still holding the rope in his hands. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “I’ll go first, okay?”

You nod and watch as he wraps his hands around the brown rope. He turns and looks back at you with an excited expression, “I’ll see you down there?”

“Okay,” you murmur, watching as he gets a running start and flies through the air before dropping down into the creek with a splash. You run to peer over the edge, watching him come up from the water with a shake of his hair. He smiles and waves you down, practically begging you to join him. 

“Come on, you can do it! I–I’ll catch you! Promise!” he shouts, “Jump, sweetheart!”

You let out a deep breath, gathering all your courage as you wait for the rope to stop swinging so you can grab it. As you reach for it you hear him cheering, still floating in the water where he landed. 

“Jump!” he yells, smiling up at you as he treads in the water. He grins as he watches you dangle from the rope, nervous to let go and jump into the water. “You’re gonna be fine! Just let go and I’ll catch you. I promise,” he yells.

With that you run, jumping off of the rock with the rope clutched tightly in your fists. Time almost seems to slow down when you jump, your body floating through the air and for a moment, it feels exhilarating.

“Let go, now!” he shouts, and so you do.

Jake waits with his arms open wide, watching as you fall down towards him from above. He can see the mixture of fear and courage on your face as you plummet towards him. He braces himself as you fall into his arms, catching you as best he can in the deep water. He pulls you close to him, his hands gripping your bare waist as your bodies press together. He can feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he holds you, your chest against his and your faces just inches apart. He can feel your heart pounding as he looks into your eyes.

The moment you’re in his arms, something within him snaps. All of a sudden, everything feels heightened. The feel of your body against his, the way you’re looking at him, the sound of your breathing as it slightly catches in your chest. The air between you seems almost electrified and he can feel the tension brewing in his gut.

“You caught me,” you breathe, recognizing just how close the two of you are. 

He can’t help but smirk and let out a low chuckle, still holding you against him. “I told you I would.”

You can feel your body pressed against his, the wet fabric of your bikini sticking to your skin. It’s making your brain go fuzzy and your skin tingle in a way you can’t explain.

“Thank you,” you whisper, neither of you making a move to let go of each other. 

He swallows, the tension between you feeling almost palpable. His pulse is pumping, and his breath catches in his throat as he holds onto you. He wants so badly to press you against him further and hold you tighter. Closer.

He couldn’t help glancing down at your lips, his gaze drifting down from your eyes to linger there just for a moment. You let your tongue dart out over your lips, swiping away the water dripping over them. 

He lets out a low, deep breath as he watches you. That small action has his heart racing even more, and every instinct inside him telling him to bring you closer. To claim your lips with his and taste you.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he whispers in a hoarse voice.

“Dangerous for who?” you question, biting on your lip.

He raises an eyebrow and chuckles, his grip on your hips tightening just slightly. He pulls you in closer, and you know he can feel your nipples hard and wet against his chest. Your bodies are pressed flat against one another, the cool water from the creek dripping down from your skin and onto his. He can feel your heart pounding against his chest and his pulse thrumming in his veins. 

He leans his head down so that his lips are mere millimeters away from yours and whispers huskily, “You. For you, sweetheart.”

Suddenly he releases his grip on you, swimming on his back further down the creek. Your heart is still racing in your chest from the contact. You felt something just now, and you know he did too. You feel a sick feeling in your chest at the loss of his touch. You tread water for a moment as you watch him swim away, feeling the coolness of the water against your skin and the sun beating down above you. Your mind is racing and you’re trying to process all of the different emotions and sensations that he stirred up within you just now.

Jake turns, breaking the surface to look back at you. “You coming?” he calls out to you with a smirk.

You nod, starting to swim towards him, taking notice of the smile on his face and the small dimple in his cheek. For some reason you feel the need to be close to him, you want his hands on you again, and you think maybe he does too.

He watches as you swim towards him, your body moving gracefully through the water. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he watches you approach, and he has a sudden urge to reach out and pull you against him. But instead, he composes himself and continues to tread water as you swim up to him.

He grins as you get to him, his gaze drifting over your body. “Took you long enough,” he teases.

“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you taunt, treading water next to him.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

You shrug your shoulders in the water, and with that he spins around and starts swimming further down the creek, moving towards a more secluded area. He glances over his shoulder at you as he swims, making sure you’re following him. He swims over towards the bank, pulling himself up on a collection of flat rocks. It’s a nice shady spot, and you can tell the rocks will be warm to the touch. 

He looks back at you, extending his hand to help pull you from the water. You take it, letting him pull your wet body up onto the rocks with him. He keeps hold of your hand for just a moment longer than necessary, hoping you didn’t notice, but of course you do. 

“This,” he pauses, “Is my favorite place.” He grins and motions for you to sit down, taking a seat himself. Once you’re settled, he looks out at the creek that flows past you. 

“I found it a long time ago. No one’s ever here. It’s like a little hidden treasure, I don’t even know if anyone else knows it’s here,” he says with a smile. “Actually, you’re the only person I’ve ever shown this to.”

“What? No one else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “No one. It’s my little secret hideout.” He looks over at you and grins, his eyes taking in your figure sitting next to him. “I guess now it’s our secret hideout.”

“Oh, ours now, huh?” you tease, turning to look at him as the sun hits his cheeks. 

He laughs, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the way the water is dripping down your sun kissed skin.

He takes a deep breath and nods, “Yeah, ours. No getting out of it now,” he says with a smirk.

You decide to push the envelope a little, swallowing nervously as you speak, “Wasn’t really planning on it.”

He grins, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he hears your flirty tone. He shifts his body towards you, his gaze drifting over your face and then down towards your chest and legs, still damp from the water.

He raises an eyebrow at you and responds in a low voice, “Good. I don’t think I’d let you, anyway.”

You decide to let the conversation end there, your pulse pounding as you look at him, the droplets of water drying on his chest. He’s hot, and you know that he knows it. The smirk on his lips hasn’t left since you made your way to the rocks and you can feel the tension between the two of you growing by the second. 

He swallows, feeling his heart begin to beat quicker as he looks at you. He wants so badly to reach out and touch you, but he holds back, knowing that doing so would probably drive him over the edge. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself. He’s not used to feeling this out of control when he’s with a woman. Normally he’s the one in charge, the one in control. But there’s something about you that makes him feel like he’s losing his grip, like he’s teetering on the edge of something new and different, and he can’t help but be drawn to it.

He shifts his body closer to you, his gaze fixed on your face as he speaks. “You want to swim some more or do you want to head back?”

“What do you want to do?” you ask, truly feeling like anything would be fun as long as it was him you were doing it with. 

He grins at you, the sparkle in his eye betraying his true desire. He wants to touch you, to pull you against him and feel your body pressed against his. But instead of saying that, he shrugs, “I’m good with whatever you want. Can’t promise we won’t find ourselves in the water again, though.”

With that you push up off the rocks and dive back into the creek, pushing the hair from your face as you resurface from the water. You splash the water up at him, soaking him and causing him to jump. 

“Oi!” he shouts, a bit of an accent peeking out from somewhere. 

“What’s wrong Kiszka? Can’t handle a little innocent splashing?” you taunt, trying to lure him into the water. What you don’t expect is for him to jump to his feet with a vengeful look in his eye. 

“Oh you just wait, sweetheart,” he pauses, charging towards you, “We will see how innocent–” 

You cut him off with another playful splash, drenching him again.  

He wipes the water from his face, shaking his head as if you have pushed him too far, “Mmhm, okay, now you’ve done it.” 

He jumps into the water next to you, wrapping his arms around you as he drags you beneath the surface. He pulls you down with him, holding you tight around the waist as you sink beneath the surface. The feeling of your body against his is intoxicating, and he revels in the sensation for a moment before popping back up and pulling you with him.

As you break the surface, he keeps his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him as you gasp for air. He grins, his smirk returning as he looks down at you. “Payback’s a hell of a thing, sweetheart.”

You push playfully at his shoulders, feeling his hands still holding your waist. A wicked grin is on his lips, and you're certain you’ve never seen someone so beautiful. He laughs as you push at him, not loosening his grip on your waist one bit. He can feel the way your body feels against his, soft and warm in stark contrast to the coolness of the water.

“Watch yourself, dove,” he warns, his smirk growing wider as he looks down at you. “You’re playing with fire.”

“How do we keep finding ourselves here,” you breathe. 

He looks down at you, his eyes locked on your face as he holds you in his arms. You feels the tension between you building, the heat of your bodies close together making your heart race in your chest.

He takes a deep breath, letting out a low chuckle as he replies, “I dunno, sweetheart, I sure don’t know.” His hand moves up to tuck a lock of your wet hair behind your ear. It feels like he wants to say more, but stops himself, settling for something else instead. “You want to head back?”

You feel a pang shoot through your chest, you don’t want to leave this spot, not now, not ever. “Sure,” you answer, and you wonder if he feels the same. 

He nods, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face. He had hoped you would say you didn’t want to leave, that you wanted to stay here just as much as he did. But he doesn’t argue with you, and instead just starts swimming towards the bank. 

“C’mon, it’s starting to get dark anyway, we should get back.” he says, letting you follow behind him. 

You find your belongings right where you left them, but the thought of putting clothes over your wet bikini has you cringing. Instead, you shove them into your backpack, holding Jake’s shirt up, silently asking him if he wants it. He shakes his head as he ties his boots, his hair still dripping down his back. You put on your own boots and sling the backpack over your shoulders, taking one last look at the creek you’d never forget. 

“You ready?” he asks, starting down the path. You nod and follow behind him, the trail lit by the perfect afternoon sun. Your hair is drying in waves around your face, much the same as his. 

He leads the way down the trail, his boots crunching on the ground below. His mind is wandering as he walks, stuck between the memory of holding you in the water just moments ago and the thought of possibly never doing it again. He sneaks glances at you out of the corner of his eye, admiring the way the sunlight is casting warm rays over your hair and face.

“Thanks for bringing me here, Jake,” you say, giving him a soft smile.

He turns to look at you, a small smile on his lips. He’s a little surprised at your sudden show of gratitude.

He shrugs a little, “You’re welcome. I come here whenever I need a break from things. It’s nice to have somewhere peaceful to escape to…” He trails off and looks away for a moment before continuing. “And nice to have someone to share it with.”

The two of you walk in content silence for most of the trail, the sun starting to dip lower and lower into the sky as the minutes pass. You notice a few clouds overhead, and thank them for a reprieve from the sun. You can feel yourself growing more and more tired with every step and before you know it you’re falling behind Jake. 

It’s as if he can hear your footsteps slowing behind him, and he stops walking, turning to look back at you. You’re several feet behind him now, your steps much more weary than they were earlier.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you. “You good, pretty girl?”

Your heart hammers in your chest at the pet name, but the fatigue is setting in so quickly you pay it no mind. “I don't know, I think so. I am just so exhausted suddenly.”

He sees the fatigue etched on your face, the way your steps are slowing down. He takes a step back towards you, concern evident in his eyes.

“You want to stop for a minute?” he asks, his voice softer than usual.

“How much farther is it? I can probably make it,” you ask. 

He takes a moment to think before responding, his eyes scanning over your face and your tired expression. He can tell you’re exhausted, but he also knows that you’re stubborn and determined to get back. “About another half mile, maybe a little less,” he replies. “You sure you can make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, let’s just keep going,” you say, starting to walk again. It feels like you’re carrying a bag of bricks on your back, but you push through. 

So he silently falls into step beside you, watching like a hawk for any sign of your energy giving out on you. But that's when it hits him, "What if I carried you?"

“Carried me?” you ask.

He looks at you, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Yeah, carried you. I could give you a piggyback ride the rest of the way.”

“Jake, no…” you whine, deep down loving the idea. 

He laughs aloud at your protest, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Oh, come on, sweetheart, you know you want to. I can see it in your eyes. I bet your legs are going to give out on you any second now.”

“Are you sure?” you ask, feeling hesitant, but he is offering.

He grins, seeing the wheels turning in your head. “I'm sure. C’mere.” He motions for you to turn around, holding his arms open for you to climb onto his back.

You feel his arms wrap around your legs as you climb onto his back, feeling the warmth of his skin against your chest. You practically melt into him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as your nose brushes against his hair, still wet from the creek.

He grunts a bit as you climb onto his back, the weight of you against him sending a wave of warmth through his body. He wraps his arms tightly around your legs, securely holding you in place, and is suddenly acutely aware of how close you are to each other. He can feel your breath on the back of his neck and the way your chest is pressed against his shoulders, the sensation making his heart beat a little faster than usual.

“Are you sure this is okay?" you ask, splaying your hand against his chest.

He takes a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his skin. He nods, his voice a little huskier than usual. “Yeah, it's fine. Don't you worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart.”

He adjusts his grip on you slightly, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

You walk like that for a little bit, your body quickly succumbing to the rhythmic bouncing from every step he takes. You find your eyes growing heavy, and your head starting to droop, and before you know it, your head is resting on his warm shoulder. 

He can't help but smile to himself as he realizes you've fallen asleep on his back. He adjusts his grip on you, trying to keep you as secure as possible as he continues walking down the trail, humming softly and feeling oddly content with the situation he has found himself in. 

It feels like seconds have passed before he gently taps your leg, waking you up as he speaks. “Hey, sleepyhead. We made it.”

He waits for you to regain your bearings and loosen your grip on him before carefully lowering you down from his back, his hands lingering at your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

“That felt like two minutes, tops,” you giggle.

He laughs, a soft chuckle that makes his chest vibrate. “Yeah, you passed out pretty fast there,” he pauses, “You hungry? I’m starving.”

“Starving,” you answer, maybe a little too quickly. 

He laughs again, the sound still as charming as usual. “Yeah, figured as much. Let's get something going.” 

He makes his way to the cooler, opening it up and pulling a pack of hotdogs from inside, “This looks like it,” he smiles, “Let me get the fire going and we will be cooking in no time.”

“Thanks for carrying me, Jake. Sorry I fell asleep on you,” you say, lowering your voice a little. 

He grins as he sets the hot dogs down, looking up at you. “No problem. And no need to apologize for dozing off.” He glances up as he strikes a match, igniting the kindling. “It was kind of...cute.”

Cute? Oh.

A strong gust of wind blows through the campsite, taking both of you by surprise, tossing a camp chair to its side. 

“Damn,” he says, moving to pick up the chair. He looks up to the sky, the clouds growing heavy and darkening. “We may be in for a bit of rain.”

“Tents are waterproof, right?” you ask nervously.

He chuckles at your question, a hint of playfulness in his voice. “Yeah, sweetheart, tents are waterproof.”

“Don’t laugh at me!” you whine. 

He grins, enjoying your playful pout. “I can't help it, you make it too easy.”

He looks at you again, the fire casting a warm glow over his features. “How about you go change into some dry clothes, these hotdogs will be done soon.”

You nod and head into your tent, stripping out of your bathing suit and pulling a t-shirt over your sun warmed skin. You add a pair of leggings and his flannel before stepping back out and seeing him assemble the hotdogs. Your stomach is growling, and you quickly realize you hadn’t eaten all day. 

He looks up as you come out of your tent, his eyes lingering on the way his flannel covers your form. He can feel his heart skip a beat at the sight of you in his shirt, but quickly composes himself.

He grins as he sees your expression, your hunger evident. “Ready?”

You nod as he hands you a paper plate, taking the seat next to you at the fire. The air is cooler than it was last night, and the humidity is growing by the second. Both of you quickly eat, very few words shared between the two of you. 

You both toss the paper plates into the fire, making quick work of cleaning up. He disappears into his tent for a few minutes, emerging in warmer clothes. His cheeks have a pink glow from the sun today, and you can’t help but think it makes him all the more pretty in the fire light.

“So what do you think, you gonna make us s’mores again tonight?” he asks, crossing his feet on the ledge of the fire pit.

You turn to look at him, “What? I thought you didn’t like them?”

He laughs softly, turning to look at you, “I like them when you make them,” he says, his confession warming your chest.

“Are you getting soft on me, Kiszka?” you tease, standing up to grab the ingredients from the cooler.

“Me? Soft?” he scoffs, pretending to be offended. “Never in a million years, sweetheart.”

He grins, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk, betraying his feigned annoyance. He grabs the two sticks from last night, holding them out to you as you place the marshmallows on the ends. This time you give him his own stick to hold, both of you twirling the sugary puffs in the flames. 

He carefully twirls his own marshmallow in the flames, occasionally stealing glances at you as you do the same. The air is quiet, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant sound of crickets, a rumble sounds in the distance but you both ignore it.

As the marshmallows puff up, you pull them from the fire, placing them gently on the graham cracker and chocolate. They melt perfectly and again, you offer him his first. He takes it from your hand, biting into it quickly, as you do the same. 

“Truly, I think it’s something about you,” he admits, taking another bite. “They just taste better when you do it.”

“It’s all in your head,” you laugh, licking marshmallows from your finger. His eyes watch as your tongue swipes over the digits, his throat bobbing as he swallows back his nerves. 

A yawn falls from your lips as he looks at you, the earlier exhaustion creeping up on you again. 

“You look tired, sweetheart.”

“I am, it just hit me out of nowhere again,” you admit. 

He chuckles softly, his shoulder brushing against yours. “Yeah, I can tell. You’ve been fighting it for the past twenty minutes.” He looks at you intently, studying your expression in the firelight. “Wanna call it a night?”

“What about you? I don't wanna leave you out here all by yourself?”

He shakes his head, a small smile on his lips. “Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I can handle myself.” He looks at you, a hint of playfulness in his gaze. “Besides, I don't mind being out here alone. It’s peaceful this time of night.”

“You sure?” you ask, a hint of guilt in your tone. 

He grins, his gaze unwavering as he looks at you. “Yeah, I'm sure. I'll just hang out until the fire smolders and enjoy the quiet out here before I head in.”

He can see the tiredness in your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to tuck you into the tent and hold you against him all night. But he keeps that last thought to himself. 

“Okay, well, thanks again for today. For showing me your secret place. I had a lot of fun with you," you say, clutching the cuffs of his flannel in your fists.

His heart skips a beat at your words, the sincerity in your tone making his chest ache. He looks at you, his gaze softening as he takes you in. “Don’t mention it, dove. I had a lot of fun too.” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod with a bashful smile, “Goodnight, Jake.”

He smiles at you, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he replies. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

He watches as you disappear into your tent, his eyes fixated on the flaps even after you’ve gone inside. He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself as he looks back to the fire.

He sits there for a while longer, his thoughts consumed by images of you. He can practically still feel the way your skin felt against his, the weight of you on his back as he carried you down the trail. He can still picture the way you looked in his flannel, your eyes tired but still filled with a spark that sent shockwaves through his body. He wanted you, and he always had.

Despite his best efforts he found the feelings that he pushed down for so long had resurfaced with a vengeance, briefly making him question whether they were ever really gone at all. He’d  made up a hundred reasons why he shouldn’t want you, letting it show in his harsh words and hostile demeanor, all the while letting you root your way deeper and deeper into his heart with every caught smile and laugh. He’d done such a good job pushing you away that he started to believe the lies he was telling himself over the last two years. Although, that all came to a screeching halt the minute he decided to let you in last night. The minute you showed him that you wanted to know him beyond surface level, and the minute he realized you were everything he told himself you weren’t.

Inside your tent you are snuggling down into your sleeping bag, replaying the day over and over. The way his hands felt on you, the smile you drew out of him, all of it. You wanted to run back out there and beg him to join you in here, but you know you can't. 

You can hear the fire still crackling, and the sway of the trees in the wind. Thunder is rumbling in the distance, growing closer and closer. You zip the window flaps on your tent for good measure, but that's when you hear it. The sound of a guitar, softly strumming in the breeze. You can tell he is trying to play quietly, but part of you wishes it was just a little louder. 

You don’t recognize the song, but it's soft and sweet and twists your heart in two. You want to know the name. Did he write it? Is it even a real song yet? Instead you lay there, letting the music his hands are producing play you to sleep, wishing every night could be like tonight.

—

A crash of lightning pulls you from your sleep, the sound of the nylon ripping overhead, pulling a scream from your chest. Rain starts to pour into your tent, drenching you and all of your belongings before you even have time to process what's happening. You pull yourself out of your soaking wet tent to see the storm raging around you. The trees whipping wildly through the wind, and the rain falling so hard you can barely see. You turn to look at your tent finding a tree branch laying across the fiberglass poles, effectively ripping the top of your tent. 

“Shit!” you scream, trying to pull your soaked belongings from inside. Jake must have heard the commotion, pulling on his boots as he rushes over towards you.

“What’s going on? What happened?” he shouts, dripping wet from the pouring rain. His eyes are panicked as they search yours for an answer. 

“The tree! A branch fell and ripped my tent, everything is wet! I–”

He grabs your arms, pulling you a little closer to him, “Are you okay?” he asks, not caring about the tent. You came first. 

“Yes, yes! I’m fine, I just– my tent!” you cry, feeling overwhelmed. 

He curses under his breath, the sight of your slashed tent and your wet clothes fueling the anger inside of him. "Damn it," he shouts, trying to keep his cool as he surveys the damage. “Okay, look, just, go get in my tent. I’ll be there in a second.”

You nod graciously and head over to his tent, unzipping the flap and stepping inside. It’s much larger than yours and is filled with real camping equipment. It’s warm, and is lit with a lantern. You see his things laying neatly by his bag, and you do your best not to drip water onto everything. 

Jake watches as you head towards his tent, disappearing inside and zipping the flap behind you. He lets out a breath, running a frustrated hand through his hair before he turns back to your tent. He grabs the offending branch, tossing it aside before he starts to gather your items from inside. He carefully picks up your belongings, dashing over to his car and tossing them in the backseat. His boots are caked with mud as he makes his way back to his tent, leaving his boots outside as he joins you inside. 

“I tried to salvage your stuff, but everything is soaked. I put it in my car to dry out but…” he pauses, wiping the rain off of him as is drips down his face. 

“Thank you,” you breathe, realizing that both of you are wet and freezing now. He has the same realization as he crawls towards his bag.

He nods in response to your gratitude, his fingers digging through his belongings to find a dry shirt for you. He pulls out a plain t-shirt, the fabric soft and well-worn. He turns back to you, handing you the shirt as his gaze flits over your soaked form. 

“Here, put this on for now,” he says gruffly, trying to keep his train of thought focused on practicality and not how good you look wearing his clothes. “I just need to change into some dry clothes and then you can go back to sleep.”

“What?” you question, unsure of his logic. 

“I’ll change and then I’ll go sleep in my car, you can take the air mattress,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world that you’d get the better accommodations. 

“What? Jake, no. I’m not taking your tent and making you sleep in your car. No way.��� you say, putting your foot down. “I’ll sleep in your car.”

He sits there, stunned at your words. He wasn't expecting resistance from you, expecting you to happily accept him taking the brunt of the damage.

“No, Y/N. Absolutely not. You’ll be much warmer here with the sleeping bag and the air mattress. You’re shivering, you’re not sleeping in the cold ass car,” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I’m not letting you sleep in the car,” you argue. “We can just– both share the air mattress. I’m fine with it if you are.”

He looks at you incredulously, his brain short-circuiting at your suggestion. The thought of sharing that small space with you, of being that close to you in the dark, is both tantalizing and terrifying. He opens his mouth to argue again, but the words get stuck in his throat. He swallows hard, his eyes flicking over your figure again. He wants to protest, to say no and keep his distance, but the look in your eyes dares him to argue.

“Fine,” he relents, his voice gruff and reluctant. “But only if you're sure you're okay with it."

“I’m okay with it Jake,” your voice softer now.

He nods, his eyes searching your expression to be sure you mean it. You nod again and he understands. He digs into his bag again producing a pair of worn gray sweatpants, handing them to you with a gleam in his eye. 

You take the sweatpants from him, your fingers brushing against his for a moment. It's a brief contact, but it sends a jolt of electricity through your body. He turns to give you a bit of privacy, despite seeing you half naked already once today. You quickly strip out of your soaked clothes, shivering from the cold air on your bare skin. You pull on the sweatpants, the warm, soft fabric enveloping your legs. You pull the wet shirt from your body and toss it to the ground before putting on the t-shirt that smells exactly like him. 

“Okay, I'm good,” you say, your voice soft.

He turns around and his breath stutters at the sight of you in his clothes. The sweatpants are a little baggy on you, the legs pooling around your ankles. The t-shirt clings to your curves, the fabric stretched tight over your chest. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his body reacting to the sight of you more than it should.

He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool. “You look–” he starts to say, his voice cracking slightly.

“Warm?” you smile, suddenly feeling a bit shy. 

He manages to nod in response to your question, his voice gravelly when he speaks. “Yeah,” he says, his eyes flickering to your face for a moment before darting away again. “Warm."

You turn to offer him the same privacy, listening as you hear his wet clothes hit the ground. He is quick to change, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts and a black long sleeve t-shirt. 

“All good,” he says, moving closer to the air mattress. You try not to stare at him in his boxers, but it’s hard not to. 

He motions towards the air mattress, and you crawl towards it, positioning yourself on one side as he takes the other. You notice that you must be occupying the side he was previously on, seeing a book and a water bottle sitting next to your head. 

He crawls onto the air mattress beside you, the small space suddenly feeling much smaller with the two of you in it. He tries to keep some distance between you both, not wanting to get too close and make you uncomfortable.  The air in the tent is thick with tension, the heat of your bodies so close together in the small space. The rain continues to pour outside, falling harshly against the nylon of the tent.

He can hear your breathing, the sound of each intake of breath filling the silence between you. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him, your body just inches away from his, and he is doing everything in his power from pulling you into him.

“Were you reading?” you ask, trying to fill the silence. He looks surprised that you've spoken, his eyes flickering over to you for a moment. He'd been caught up in his thoughts, lost in the feeling of being so close to you in the small space.

He nods, gesturing towards the book next to your head. “Yeah, I was.” he says, his voice a little gruff. “It's a pretty good book.”

“What's it about?” you ask, rolling to face him.

He takes a moment to remember the premise of the book, his mind still a little clouded with the feeling of being so close to you.

“It's um, it’s a crime thriller,” he replies. “It's about a detective trying to solve a series of murders in a small town. It's pretty intense, actually.” 

You giggle, “I wouldn't have taken you for a thriller novel kind of guy.”

He raises an eyebrow at your response, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “And what kind of guy did you think I would be?” he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“I don’t know. Maybe a biography guy? History maybe?”

He chuckles at your response, a small laugh escaping his lips. “Biographies and history, huh? I mean, I read those too,” he says with a smirk. “But I like a good thriller from time to time.”

He glances over at you, his eyes trailing over your features as you yawn. He reaches over and turns off the lantern, leaving the two of you in darkness with the sound of the rain. 

“You tired?” he asks, his voice a little softer now. 

“Yeah, a little, but that kind of woke me up. I can't lie,” you answer, shivering a little as you lay on the air mattress. Jake seems to notice and immediately sits up, unzipping his sleeping bag and tossing half of it onto your body. His movements are quick and practiced, his eyes flickering to your face to make sure you're covered up.

He lays back down, his body now closer to yours under the shared cover. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of his heart. The silence hangs in the air again, the sound of the rain outside the only noise breaking through the tension between you. He can hear your breathing beside him, your body so close to his under the covers. He's acutely aware of the feel of your body heat radiating against his skin, the proximity of your bodies igniting a spark inside of him.

He tries to keep his eyes trained on the ceiling of the tent, but they keep drifting back towards you, taking in the way your hair fans out around your face as you look at him.

“I’m glad you’re okay, Y/N,” he says, his voice barely a whisper. 

You slide your hand up to rest on his cheek, warm and stubbly, “Thank you for coming to save me,” you breathe.

His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling of your hand on his cheek, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. He leans into your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. He can feel his heart racing in his chest, the warmth of your touch making his skin tingle. He opens his eyes, looking over at you with a mixture of surprise and something else. Something...soft.

“I'll always come save you,” he says, his voice low and gentle.

Your eyes flick down to his lips, pink and full, before meeting his dark brown eyes again. “All this time I thought you hated me.”

He swallows hard, his eyes fixed on yours as he hears your words. He can feel the tension coiled tight in the space between you, the atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering over your face as if he's searching for something. 

Finally, he speaks. “I don't hate you,” he says, his voice low and soft. “I’ve never hated you, I always liked you. Too much, probably.”

“What?”

He takes a deep breath, the words spilling out of him before he can stop them.

“I never hated you, sweetheart,” he repeats, his voice softer this time. “I always liked you, maybe a little too much. I remember when Josh met Clara, he told me that you, specifically, were off limits. Of course at that point it was already too late. I swear it just made me want you more. I knew I couldn't go against him, though. I knew he had his reasons. I just...I didn’t know how to deal with it, being around you and not being able to have you, so I pushed you away. It was the only thing that worked.”

His eyes meet yours, his expression vulnerable and open. “It was easier to be cold to you than to be myself and fall for someone that I can't have.”

“Jake,” you breathe, sliding your thumb against his cheek. He closes his eyes at the sound of his name on your lips, feeling your thumb glide along his skin. It feels like electricity zipping through his body, igniting every nerve ending all at once. He turns his face towards your touch, his cheek pressing into your palm as he revels in the feeling.

“He didn’t even tell me that you were going to be on this trip. He knew I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were going to be here, too. He knew I wouldn’t subject myself to that. Honestly, I was doing okay controlling myself, until today.”

“Today, at the creek…” you continue. 

His eyes flutter open, his gaze locking with yours as he hears you mention it. The memory of that moment floods through his mind, the sight of your body in the water burned into his brain.

He swallows hard, his throat dry as he nods in response. “Yeah,” he whispers. “Today at the creek,” he repeats, his voice hoarse. 

You nod your head and bite your lip as your mind replays its own memories. 

He shifts his body subtly closer to you, the heat between you growing with each passing moment. He can feel the tension building to a fever pitch, the air thick with desire and need.

“I wanted to kiss you, sweetheart. I really did. I almost did. Touching you like that, fuck. You letting me carry you back. Just sitting by the fire with you. It’s the best day I have had in a long ass time. Didn’t want it to end, but I knew you were exhausted. I wanted to tell you tonight, but things just didn’t work out. I figured it was probably for the best,” he confesses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

Your hand drops to his chest, the warmth of his skin evident through his t-shirt, “I wanted you to kiss me, Jake. I wanted your hands on me, everywhere. In fact, I never don’t want your hands on me,” you say, feeling his hand nervously slide up and over the curve of your waist. 

He listens to your words, disbelief and desire warring within him as he realizes you feel the same way he does. He swallows hard, his hand on your waist trembling slightly as he absorbs your words. He slides closer to you, his body now pressed snugly against yours under the covers. Your faces are so close that he can feel your breath on his cheek.

“Well fuck me, sweetheart,” he growls. His eyes rake over your features, taking in the way your pupils are dilating with desire, the flush on your cheeks and the way your breath hitches when he moves closer to you.

He’s never seen you look so beautiful, and the realization that he’s the cause of it makes his heart swell in his chest. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispers, his voice barely louder than a breath. 

“Jake,” you beg. 

His heart clenches at the sound of you begging for him, the need in your voice nearly driving him mad with desire. He wants to hear you say his name again and again, to feel your body against his and your skin under his hands.

He leans closer to you, his breath warm against your neck as he speaks. “Say my name again, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

“Kiss me, Jake,” you plead, unable to wait a second longer. 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. At your words, he crashes his lips against yours in a desperate kiss, all of the tension and desire between you finally igniting in a blaze of passion.

His hands roam over your body, exploring all the curves he’s wanted to touch for so long. He kisses you deeply, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

He shifts his body over yours, pinning you to the air mattress as he continues to kiss you hungrily. His hands slide up your body, fingers tangling in your hair as he holds your head in place, his tongue delving deeper into your mouth.

He moans lowly, the sound muffled as his body presses flush against yours under the covers. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, the sensation driving him mad with desire. 

Your hands snake around his waist, sliding beneath his shirt, and pulling it up and over his head. He lets out a sharp breath as he feels your hands on his skin, the feeling of your fingers against his bare flesh sending a shiver down his spine. He breaks the kiss for just a moment, pulling back just enough to let you yank the shirt over his head and toss it aside.

He takes a moment to admire your flushed cheeks and the way your eyes trail over his now bare torso. He grins at the hungry look in your eyes as you take in his muscular chest and stomach. 

“Don’t look at me like that sweetheart, it’ll get you into trouble.” he warns.

“I like trouble,” you say, drinking in the sight of him as he pins you to the air mattress. 

He laughs at your response, the sound deep and gravelly in his chest. “You would,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips. “I think that’s why I like you.”

He leans back down to capture your lips in another kiss, his bare chest now pressed against yours. He runs his hands up and down your sides, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist and the swell of your hips beneath your sweatpants.

As he kisses you, he slips his thigh between your legs, pressing his body even closer against yours. He runs his tongue along your jawbone, trailing kisses along your neck as he moves down to your throat.

He sucks lightly at your pulse point, nipping at the sensitive skin before soothing it with his tongue. His fingers reach for the hem of your t-shirt slowly dragging it up over your body.  “Take this off for me, dove,” he whispers.

You lift up, letting him drag the old, threadbare shirt over your chest. His eyes take in the sight of your bare skin in the low light of the tent. His breath stutters at the sight of your body, the way the light dances across your curves making his throat go dry.

He lets out a low moan as he looks at you, his hands roaming freely over your bare skin. “Goddamn,” he says, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gorgeous.”

His hands trace the curves of your breasts, sliding down over your waist and to the waistband of your sweatpants. His eyes lock onto yours as his hands move down your body, his touch searing against your skin. He teases at the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers tracing soft circles against your hip bones.

He can feel the warmth of your body beneath his palm, the way your skin twitches in anticipation under his touch sending a jolt of desire through his body. “Can I take these off?” he whispers, his voice rough with need.

“Please,” you beg. 

He grins at your response, the sound of you begging awakening something primal in him. He slides his hands into the waistband of your sweatpants, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he slowly starts to pull them down your legs.

His eyes never leave your face as he exposes more and more of your body, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. Once he's removed the offending article of clothing, he lets his gaze roam over your body once again. His eyes trail over your bare skin, taking in the way the light from the storm outside casts shadows over your curves. He reaches out, his hands tracing over your legs, his touch gentle and reverent.

He can feel the heat radiating from your core, the way your body responds to his touch making him ache with desire. He leans down, pressing kisses over your stomach and hips, his lips roaming over your skin like a man starved.

You can hardly stand it, the feel of his lips on your skin is making you feel insane, “Touch me, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. He leans back, locking his eyes with yours as he reaches for your hips once again, gripping them firmly.

“I'll touch you, baby,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “As much as you want. Where do you want my hands, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere, Jake. I told you,” you beg. 

“That’s quite the request, darling,” he says, the sound of the air mattress echoing as he repositions himself as carefully as possible. Your hands tug at the waistband of his boxers, eliciting a laugh from his chest. 

“Impatient, baby?”

“I just want you, Jake.” you confess. 

“I want you too, sweetheart, you have no idea,” he whispers, his eyes locking with yours.

He pushes his boxers down, kicking them off somewhere in the tent as he moves back over you. He braces himself on his forearms, his body pressed flush against yours again as he looks down at you. You get a wicked gleam in your eye, hooking your leg around his, and twisting until you are over top of him, straddling his waist. 

He grins up at you, his eyes raking over your body. “Well I’ll be damned, look at you,” he says, a note of surprise and arousal in his voice.

You give him a proud smile, sitting happily on top of him, enjoying the view below. You can feel how wet you are as it coats your inner thighs, and you know he is privy to this as well as the light reflects from your thighs.  

“You look so damn good on top of me,” he says, his voice rough and low. “Like you belong there. It’s fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re fucking hot,” you counter, brushing the hair off of his face. 

He lets out a laugh at your words, a grin spreading across his face. “And so articulate too,” he teases, his grip on your hips tightening as he speaks. His hand moves towards your center, his thumb brushing lightly against your clit. 

“Jesus,” you whine, his touch sending you soaring. 

“Not here, love,” he smirks. 

You grind yourself against him, a moan falling from his lips, “What was that you were saying?” you ask playfully. 

“Oh shit,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you continue to move against him. He opens his eyes, locking them with yours as he tries to compose himself. “Don’t tease me sweetheart, it’s unbecoming.” he says, his voice rough.

You lift up to your knees, hovering over him enough to grab his length in your fist. A hiss leaves his chest at your touch, his jaw falling open as his eyes lock on yours. You drag his tip through your wetness, his eyes growing impossibly darker at the sensation. 

“Fuck me,” he pants, “Listen, if we’re gonna do this, I want to go slow. I have fucking dreamed about this moment. That and if I fuck you how I want to fuck you, we will pop this air matress. That will be for another time.”

You nod as you slowly sink down over him, taking every inch he has to offer. “Another time, huh? What makes you think–”

He delivers a pointed thrust up into you, stealing the air from your lungs. 

“That. That’s what makes me think, sweetheart,” he answers, grabbing your hips and helping you start to move on top of him. 

“Fuck, Jake,” you whine, feeling him stretch you out so completely. So fully. 

He lets out a low growl at your words, the sound filled with desire and need. “Yeah?” he asks, his voice low and gruff.

His hands grip your hips even tighter as you move above him, his fingers digging into your skin as his body responds to your movements. “You feel so good, sweetheart, better than I imagined.” he groans, his eyes locked on yours.

You start to move your hips in a wave pattern, his length hitting you right where you need him. A cry leaves your chest as you toss your head back, feeling his hand move to support your lower back. The heat of the tent combined with the friction between you is making things even hotter, both of you growing sweaty and breathless as you move against each other.

He lets out a low moan, his hands moving up your body to grip your shoulders tightly. “Christ, baby, you’re a fucking dream,” he groans, his body arching up against yours as he snaps his hips up to meet yours. 

“Harder, Jake,” you plead. 

He lets out a sharp gasp as you say his name, his eyes darkening with desire. “Harder?” he asks, his voice thick and rough. “You want it harder, sweetheart?”

“Please, baby,” you whine.

He lets out a low growl at your plea, his hands tightening on your shoulders. “Yeah sweetheart, I got you.” he murmurs, his voice low and guttural. “Give you anything you want.”

You lean down letting him capture your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth as he pulls you closer against him. His hips buck upwards with more force now, his body moving against yours with increasing intensity. Your stomach is burning with need and you know it won’t be much longer until you burst into flames. 

“Don’t stop, baby, please,” you cry out, feeling your stomach growing hot. He lets out a muffled groan at your words, his hands gripping you tighter as he continues to fuck you. 

“God, you feel incredible,” he gasps, his mouth moving to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His hands move towards your ass, his fingers gripping into the supple flesh as he thrusts up into you. Your skin is slick with sweat and arousal, the lewd sounds filling the tent with the sound of the rain. He can hardly contain his moans now, matching your energy in the small tent.

“Sit up, I want to look at your tits while I fuck you,” he growls. 

You hear a hint of dominance fall from his lips and you can’t help but to obey. You sit up, straddling him again, as he leans up on his elbows to watch you. 

He lets out a guttural moan as you do as he asks, sitting up above him and giving him an even better view of your body. He runs his hand up your thigh, his eyes locked on your face.

“You like this?” you say, swirling your hips in a figure eight. 

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “I like this a lot.” His hand moves to cup at your tits, bouncing as you continue to fuck him. “You’re so fucking wet for me, baby.”

“I always am,” you say, biting at your bottom lip as you try to stave off your orgasm. 

He smiles at your response, his hands still gripping your thighs. He leans up again, capturing your lips in another intense kiss, his tongue sliding against yours as he pulls you closer against him. He bites at your lower lip, his teeth grazing your skin softly. The feeling of his teeth on your skin pushes you over the edge, and you’re sure he can feel you tightening around him. 

“I’m close, baby,” you whine. 

"Yeah?" he asks, his voice thick with desire. "Gonna come for me, sweetheart?"

He slides his hand down between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it slowly and insistently. “Come for me, baby,” he whispers, his mouth moving to your ear. “Come right on my cock, just like this.”

“Come with me, Jake,” you beg, feeling his lips connect to the side of your neck. 

He lets out a low groan at your words, his body shuddering as he nears the edge. “Yeah...yeah I'm there sweetheart, I’m right fucking there,” he gasps, his hands gripping you tightly as his body moves against yours. “Say you’re mine, baby.”

Just the thought of him wanting to claim you as his sends you over the edge, your body giving in to your orgasm as you fall apart on top of him. “I’m yours Jake. Yours.”

He lets out a deep, guttural moan at your words, his body shuddering as he loses himself in your arms. “That’s right sweetheart, you're fucking mine,” he gasps, his voice ragged. “Mine and no one else's.”

He holds you close as he comes, his body shaking and shuddering against yours. "Fuck," he groans, his grip on you tight as he rides out the waves of his own release, hot as it spills inside of you. 

“Jake, fuck,” you pant, finally coming down from what is probably the best orgasm of your life. 

“God you’re fucking sexy,” he pants, “Jesus Christ. Incredible, actually.”

“You’re incredible,” you smile, lifting up and off of him. His hands don’t leave you though, not wanting you to stray too far. 

He grins at your words, his arms tightening around you as he holds you close. “You give me too much credit, sweetheart,” he says, his voice gruff and spent. “We just fucked on an air mattress,” he laughs.

He leans back and looks at you, a satisfied smile on his face. “God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” he admits, his eyes roving over your face.

“Probably as long as I have if I had to guess,” you smile. 

He lets out a low chuckle, a grin spreading across his face as he nods. “You'd be right about that,” he says, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. “I've wanted you for a long time, sweetheart. Longer than I care to admit.”

“Well you have me now?” you say nervously.

His expression softens at your words, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, I do,” he says softly. He cups your face in his hand, his thumb tracing over your cheek. “And I'm not letting you go. You're mine now, sweetheart.”

“I think I always wanted to be,” you confess.

He grins at your words, a possessive glint in his eyes. “Yeah?”

You nod sweetly as you reach for your clothes, the chill returning to the tent. You hand him his shirt and his boxers, pulling his sweats and t-shirt back over your body. He watches as you dress yourself in his clothing, a satisfied smile on his face. 

“You look so fucking hot in my clothes, please never try to give them back,” he says, his eyes raking over you with a smile. 

You giggle and shake your head, watching him pull his own clothes on before crawling back onto the air mattress. You snuggle into his side, feeling his arms wrap around you. He pulls you closer against him, nuzzling his face into your damp hair, his breath hot against your neck.

He lets out a content sigh, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your skin as he holds you close. “I could get used to this,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy.

“Oh, no, I thought you liked camping alone,” you tease with a giggle.

He laughs, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah yeah, shut up,” he says playfully, giving your side a squeeze. He snuggles into you more, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. “Don't get used to me wanting your company,” he jokingly warns you.

“Oh yeah? Want me gone by morning?” you taunt, letting your fingers trace shapes into his stomach.

He grins against your skin, his arms tightening around you. “Oh, I don't know if I'll wait that long,” he teases back. He presses soft, gentle kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips moving slowly over your skin. “I might just kick you out now.”

“Ahh, there you are. I was wondering where you went. You were being far too sweet.” you tease.

He laughs, pulling back to look at you. “Oh? You prefer me mean, is that it?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you. He gives you a playful nudge, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I can be an ass if you want, sweetheart. It really is no problem.”

“No, no. I think I'll keep you just like this.” you say nuzzling under his chin. You listen to the steady beating of his heart, feeling your eyes grow tired. He runs his fingers through your hair, a soft, soothing gesture meant to lull you to sleep. He grins slightly as he feels your breathing begin to slow, knowing that you're on the verge of sleep. 

“Tired, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, his voice soft and low.

“I am now,” you whisper. 

He lets out a soft chuckle at your sleepy response, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses through your hair. 

���Then close your eyes,” he murmurs, his voice even quieter now. “I'll be here when you wake up.”

“Goodnight, Jake,” you breathe, slipping quickly. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispers, his voice low and soothing. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his fingers continuing to gently massage your scalp as he feels you slowly drift off to sleep.

—

You wake the next morning finding that the sun hasn't risen fully yet, and the air is chilly. You’re warm though, wrapped up in Jake beneath the sleeping bag.  He feels you stirring next to him, a smile spreading across his face as he feels you wake up. He's been lying awake for a little while now, just watching you sleep and enjoying the feeling of you in his arms.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with sleep. 

“Morning,” you answer, turning to look at his tired face.

He grins as you reply to him, his arms tightening around you. “Sleep well?” he asks, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin.

“So good. Did you?” you ask with a sleepy yawn.

He chuckles softly, his chest rumbling against your back. “Yeah, I slept great,” he replies, his voice still rough and gravelly. He shifts slightly, pulling you closer against him and nuzzling his face into your hair. “Best night's sleep I've had in a long time.”

You smile as you roll into him, placing a kiss on his warm chest.

He lets out a low groan at your kiss, his body shuddering slightly as he feels your lips on his skin. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep doing things like that and we'll never get out of this tent.”

“I’m kinda sad that we have to leave today,” you say, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. 

He smiles down at you, his eyes soft and tender. “Yeah, me too,” he admits, his hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It's been nice having you all to myself. Don't want to share you with the rest of the world, now.”

You giggle against his chest, a warmth washing over you as you feel his fingers moving lazily against your skin, “Ugh, the rest of the world, don’t remind me…”

“Actually, speaking of, Josh texted me,” he says, a chuckle leaving his chest. 

“Did he?”

“Yeah, said he hoped we hadn’t killed each other because neither of them had heard from us since they left,” he smiles, pulling you tight against him. 

You gasp, realizing he’s right, “Shit, I– I totally forgot about them.”

He laughs, his chest rumbling beneath you, “Yeah, I did too. I guess we were just– a little preoccupied,” he grins. 

“Do we tell them?” you ask nervously. 

He considers it for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face, “I mean, yeah, we probably should,” he pauses, “They don’t need the details, but I think they should know.”

“Won’t Josh be mad?” you ask, scared of his answer. 

He laughs at your question. “Yeah, absolutely he will. He'll give me one of his long winded lectures about being nice to you and treating you right. Make some threats about what he'll do if I hurt you. You know, the usual.” 

You nudge him with your elbow, “Maybe that isn’t a half bad idea,” you tease.

He laughs, feigning offense. “Hey now, don't side with him,” he says, giving you a playful nudge in return. He pulls you closer against him, his arms wrapping around you tightly. “But seriously, I don't think Josh will be too surprised. I think he's always known something was bound to happen between the two of us whether he wanted it to or not.”

“I’m glad it finally did.”

He grins, his eyes locking on yours. “Me too, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, his body enveloping yours as he holds you tightly against him. “I just wish we had more time alone together,” he says, his voice suddenly serious.

“What do you mean?” you ask. 

“I mean, once we leave here it’s going to be different, you know? We’ll have the band, tour, media, friends, all of it. I just– I know it’s a lot to deal with. You’ve been around Josh and Clara, you know how it can be. I just– I want you around, but I don’t want that to scare you away.”

You smirk at him, “It’s not going to scare me away, Jake. I just want you to be really sure this is something you want to get into right now.”

He looks into your eyes, his expression serious. “I’m sure,” he says firmly. “I know it’s not going to be easy. I know there will be challenges. But I’m sure about you. About us.” He takes your face in his hands, his palms cupping your cheeks. “You’re all I want. Nothing else matters.”

You nod your head in his hand, pressing a kiss to his palm, “Okay, then I’m in if you are.”

His eyes soften as you kiss his palm, a smile spreading across his face. “I'm more than in,” he says, his voice low and gruff. “I don't want you to ever doubt that. I'm yours, sweetheart.” He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you against him. “And I plan on showing you just how much I want you, every single day.”

“Well, everyday until tour starts back up, right?” you tease playfully. 

He laughs, shaking his head at your taunting, “Yeah, alright, smartass,” he grins, giving you a playful pinch on the side. He rolls over on top of you, his body pressing you down into the air mattress as he looks down at you with a smirk. “Don't worry, I'll make up for the lost time.”

“Oh, tempting…Maybe on a real bed? Not an air mattress?” you smirk. 

He chuckles, his eyes raking over your body, "Is this your way of asking me to take you home with me, sweetheart?" he grins.

“Unless you’d like a redo on my twin size,” you quip.

“Baby, have you ever been on a tour bus?” he giggles, pressing kisses to your neck.

You shake your head, laughing as his fingers tickle into your ribs, “No.”

“Mmm, you’re in for a real treat.” He grins down at you, his eyes glinting with desire. "Yeah, I think a real bed sounds like a good idea. And a real shower."

“A shower…” you breathe, the idea sounding desperately appealing. 

He laughs, noticing the way you react to the idea. “Yeah baby, a shower. A big, hot shower with actual water pressure. And a nice bed with sheets and blankets and the best feather pillows you’ve ever laid your head on.”

“Mhmm, maybe we should pack up now and get there immediately,” you giggle. 

“We should.” He presses his lips to yours again, warm as they linger there, “To be continued,” he says, pushing up off of the air mattress and stepping out into the sun. 

You spend the rest of the morning packing up the campsite, tearing down your tents and loading them into his car, sneaking glances at each other every few minutes. Jake works to organize everything into the small trunk, with the addition of your tent and Josh and Clara’s. You drain the cooler as he closes the trunk, dusting his hands off on his pants. “You ready, sweetheart?”

“Yep! Just this and we are all set,” you shout. 

He walks over to you, grabbing the cooler and walking it back to his car with you in tow. He opens the passenger side door for you, gesturing you inside, before joining you on the other side. 

“You know, I really am kind of sad to leave,” you laugh, “I never thought I would be saying that, but–”

“It’s a magical place,” he smiles, “S’why I come here so much.”

“Maybe we can come back?” you ask, tilting your head against the headrest. 

“Oh definitely,” he answers, “Whenever you want, sweetheart.” His hand comes to rest on your knee, his thumb stroking against your skin as he navigates the car out of the woods and back towards the road. You give him a warm smile, feeling the air conditioner bring chills to your skin. 

“Hey, I was um, I was serious about you coming home with me,” he says, taking his eyes off of the road to meet yours in a quick glance. 

“Oh, I mean, I would like that. If you’re really sure,” you answer nervously. 

He gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, a smile coming to his lips, “I’m really sure. I want to be with you as much as I can before I leave. Want you in my bed, my shower, the whole house really. All of it. I just want you.”

You blush, his words sending a shockwave through your system, “Okay.”

He grins widely, “Good.” He squeezes your thigh, his palm hot against your skin. “Should be home pretty quick, now.” 

“It is Sunday funday, right?” you giggle. “But, I guess that's kinda everyday for you, isn’t it?”

“Very funny,” he taunts, his expression growing serious, “But yes. It is,” he answers, grabbing your attention as you turn to look at him. He sends you a playful wink as he pats your thigh, letting out a deep breath that almost seemed like he was relieved. 

“Let me make you dinner tonight,” he says, keeping his stare focused on the overgrown highway. “Real dinner.”

“Oh, real dinner, huh?” you tease, placing your hand over top of his. “I feel like I vaguely remember hearing about you being a good cook, but I can’t remember for sure.”

He laughs, “What else have you heard about me, baby?”

Just as you go to answer his phone rings through the car speakers. You can see on the display that it is Josh calling him, and he glances to you before accepting the call. 

“What’s up?” he asks. 

“Dude, are you two alive? What the fuck is going on?” he asks, a tone of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Yeah we are alive. You know there’s no reception out there. Kinda the reason I go,” he says, hoping to jog his memory. 

“So you didn’t kill each other, that’s great news.” Josh says, and you can hear Clara laughing in the background.

Jake looks over at you, his eyes silently begging the question of if he should break the news to him. You take a minute to consider the risks but decide there really aren’t any. You nod eagerly at Jake, watching as he nods back in understanding. 

“Hey, uh, you two busy tonight?” he asks, his one hand gripping the steering wheel. 

“Not that I know of, why?” he answers. 

“Well, we are just now on our way back. Need to unload, shower, all that. How about you guys come over for dinner tonight? I’m cooking,” he says. You can sense the nerves in his tone, his face serious as he waits for Josh’s reply. 

“Um, yeah yeah that should be…good. You said we… Is… there a we?” he asks, his voice a little quieter. 

“Just come over tonight. Both of you. Just got some things to tell you,” he says, a smile pulling across his lips. 

A huff leaves his lips, “Things to tell me?”

“Hi Josh!” you say, speaking up on the call. 

“Holy shit, hey Y/N,” Josh answers, a hint of bewilderment in his voice. 

“See you tonight?” you ask, hearing him gasp in shock. You can hear him pull the phone away from his ear, doing his best to cover the microphone with his hand, “Holy fuck, Clara you were right. It happened,” he says in a mumbled mess. You know he did not intend for either of you to hear it, but you did.

“Josh?” Jake says, pulling him back to the call. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Sorry, yeah�� we will definitely be there.”

“See you tonight, Josh?” you ask, lacing your fingers with Jake’s, feeling his warm hand in yours. He leans over and kisses your cheek before settling back in his seat.

You listen to Josh laugh through the speakers, sighing as he speaks, “Yeah, I guess I will see you tonight.”

.

.

.

.

.

.

xo, N

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[synthetickitsune]

Full Stomach, Full Heart ✧ w.jh

Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader (gn) Genre: angst, hints of comfort Summary: What was the last thing you ate, actually? Yet better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it. Word count: 2.2k Warnings: food struggles, mentions of reader not eating properly

You feel something’s wrong within the first hour after waking up. Deeply wrong, but you’re equally deep in denial, so you write it off as a side effect of getting up too early and immediately scrolling on your phone, so you go back to sleep. When you wake up again, you’re not really sure you slept at all. Somehow, though, the time has passed too quickly for you to just be spacing out in bed. You need to get up. 

The feeling is still there, a weight on your chest and your mind feels like it’s clouded by a thick fog. Your bones feel heavy. Just standing feels uncomfortable and draining. You get some water and crawl back into bed. A text from your boyfriend is waiting for you, wishing you a good morning and asking if you’ve eaten yet. Your stomach churns at the idea of eating, so you ignore the text in favor of more sleep. 

Only sleep just won’t come. Not for long anyway. It’s all brief flashes of unconsciousness that leave you disoriented and tired once you wake up. Switching between unsuccessful attempts of napping and mindless scrolling on your phone, with some spacing out on the side, time passes. You try to make yourself get up again and do something, try to guilt yourself into being productive, all without result. Nothing works, nothing feels right.

You can’t tell what’s wrong exactly, but somehow it feels like everything is. It makes you upset, most of all with yourself. There is nothing that needs to get done, however you can come up with a list of a hundred things that you could get done if only you dragged yourself out of bed. There’s no reason you should be like this, you tell yourself. It is what it is, you tell yourself next and close your eyes again.

Without your permission, time passes. It slips away from you, then forcefully reminds you of its existence when your phone starts to ring.

It’s Jun.

“Hey,” you whisper. You hope he heard over the commotion around him. Suddenly you realize you really hate people today. Staying in bed seems even more appealing. Nobody is going to bother you here.

“Are you alright?” Jun cuts straight to chase. His voice is kind but laced with worry. “You never responded to my text.”

Oh. Shit.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” you hesitate a little, “Just don’t feel too good.”

You can see the frown on his face when you close your eyes and focus on the brief pause. The background noise, the voices, get distant and quiet. Somewhere on the other end of the line, a door clicks shut.

“‘Not good’ as in…?” he asks and you sigh. Worrying your lip between your teeth, you regret being honest in the first place. Just a little. But then again if you haven’t told him, he’d drive himself crazy with worry and that’s the last thing he needs during practice.

“I just don’t feel much of anything,” you admit, “I’m just really tired. I don’t want to do anything, don’t wanna talk to anyone.”

He hums in sympathy. It makes something warm flicker in your chest. You can imagine the hug he’d give you if he was here - enveloping, like the world doesn’t exist, his hand cradling your head, the other on the small of your back pulling you close with just the perfect amount of force. He’d hold you until something made him let go, and then still kiss you and promise to be right back.

“I’m sorry I called,” he whispers, “I just got worried.”

“No, I don’t mind you,” you reassure him even as every word drains more energy out of your already exhausted body, “You don’t count.”

“Why thank you,” you hear the smile in his voice. It’s natural for you to smile as well without thinking, if only you had the energy too. Regret wells up in your chest, even though Jun won’t know about this little turmoil. “Have you eaten?”

Your heart pauses for a beat. The answer is clear, but what was the last thing you ate, actually? Probably just instant noodles or something like that. Better question would be when was the last time you ate a full, nutritious meal. You don’t think you can remember though. And you know Jun will hate to hear it.

“...no,” you admit quietly. You curl under the blanket. He might get disappointed and worried but he won’t yell at you, you know that, yet it still feels uncomfortable. The silence drags on and leaves you suspended in anxiety. You beg him to talk inside your head, to say anything - to snap at you, anything will do. Just not the silence.

“y/n, it’s so late…” he says and you know he’s not scolding you, that he’s as gentle as he can be, but it still sounds like you’re getting scolded.

“I know,” you murmur, “I’m not hungry though.”

It’s an understatement. The idea of eating itself makes your stomach churn. And maybe it’s hunger in disguise, maybe. Most likely. You know you should eat. Food feels repulsive, though.

“You need to eat,” he insists, quietly, still gentle. You can hear the change in his voice when he adds: “I’ve been busy a lot, huh?”

“Jun…” you shake your head, “It’s not your fault. I need to take care of myself.”

“I want to be there for you when you’re not feeling well,” there’s a moment where his voice gets higher. You can imagine the lightbulb appearing above his head and it makes you slightly concerned. “I’m gonna help.”

“Wait, no-”

“Shh, no arguing,” he shushes you. You can hear his voice get more distant. “I’ll order you some food. A lot of it. So you can choose.”

You whine.

“I don’t wanna see anyone. Please. I promise I’ll eat later, just not now,” you try to change his mind. It’s pointless, you’re well aware that Jun is the most stubborn when your wellbeing is concerned. The silence on the other end of the line, occasionally broken by tapping noises as your boyfriend’s fingers dance across the screen, tells you resistance is hopeless. Still you try.

“I don’t want to go anywhere to pick up the food. I won’t even go downstairs,” you warn him,

“I won’t pick up the phone if anyone calls. I won’t talk to anyone,” you sulk.

“Jun, please forget about it-”

“Will you cook?” he interrupts you, a slight edge to his voice. You shrivel under the blanket.

“No but-”

“Are there any leftovers you can heat up?”

“No, Jun-”

“Don’t ‘no Jun’ me,” he sighs, “I’m gonna figure this out, okay? Don’t worry.”

Before you can ask for an explanation, beg him to let it go, anything, he hangs up. You groan and pull at your hair. It’s pointless to argue with Jun, however, and although you’re frustrated you know you can trust him. So you return to numbly lying on bed.

It’s some time later that you’re woken up - from sleep or daydreaming, you have no idea - by a text. You frown and pick up the phone, already annoyed. Who dares to bother you now?

Joshua: hey i’m downstairs so don’t get creeped out when i come in with the food

Joshua: if you're awake

Joshua: if not - sorry! ><

…what?

You don’t have much time to process what’s happening before you hear the code being put in and the doors opening. You’re tempted to pretend you’re not home but also what the fuck is he doing here? Taking a quick look at Jun’s messy hoodie and sweats you’re wearing, you ultimately decide that it’s not your fault Joshua’s going to see you like this. He came in uninvited. So much for not talking to anyone. You get up and groggily walk out of the room and look for the intruder.

You find him in the kitchen… putting food containers on the table?

“Hey,” he greets you softly with a friendly smile without pausing his actions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, confusion written all over your face. Your arms are wrapped around your body protectively. Joshua doesn’t even look at you as he meticulously takes everything out of the bag.

“That’s my line. You should be in bed” he chuckles. Finally he looks up and upon seeing you don’t get the situation at all, he shakes his head with a small laugh.

“Jun said you’re not feeling well,” he explains, “So he asked if anyone could bring you food while you rest. Are you okay to eat now or should I put it in the fridge?”

You stop yourself from screaming aloud. And sighing. And hitting your head against the wall.

“Thank you,” you say instead, “It really wasn’t necessary.”

“No problem,” Joshua smiles at you again, “So?”

“I’ll eat in a bit,” you decide, relaxing slightly. You don’t feel like eating if you’re being honest but you also think the nausea starting to kick in is caused by hunger at this point. You should make yourself eat. Somehow.

“Okay. Do you need anything else? Medicine, dessert?” he jokes and you roll your eyes at him even though the target should really be Junhui.  

“I’m fine, thank you,” you try to smile at him despite your irritated mood. You make a mental note to thank Joshua again and apologize later because he leaves as quickly as he came. You should also talk to your boyfriend about using his friends as couriers.

Speaking of which…

Your phone rings again the moment you sit down and angrily stab the utensil into the closest container. You really can’t be bothered to use dishes that you’d have to wash later.

You accept the call and put your boyfriend on speaker.

“Hi… Joshua texted me he dropped off the food?” Jun sounds timid, careful almost.

“Yeah, he did,” you play with the food without raising any to your lips, “I hope you paid him.”

“No, but I owe him one,” he chuckles, still tense, “You know how he is.”

You hum. You do. But that still doesn’t mean your boyfriend should take advantage of his friend’s kindness to bring you food when he’s too busy. It’s not like any of them ever have too much time on their hands to be doing this.

“I… I just thought it would be okay this way,” his voice softens, “That you could avoid social interaction but still get the food delivered. I told Shua to leave you alone.”

You hum again. Not that you mind talking to Jun, he’s always the only exception, but you’re tired. And hungry, yet the idea of picking up the food, chewing, swallowing just seems so exhausting.

“I’m sorry,” Jun’s voice drops into a whisper, “But you need to eat.”

“I know,” you murmur, “And thank you. It’s just I really don’t feel like it even though I’m so hungry right now.”

It’s quiet on the other side for a moment, and then you hear him talking away from the phone - asking Soonyoung for a short break. You can’t hear what the response is but the next thing you hear is the door closing and Jun’s fast steps.

“What happened?” you ask, smiling a little as you imagine your boyfriend speeding through the corridors.

“I’ll facetime you in a bit, yeah? We can eat together,” his voice is full of determination and confidence that you don’t share.

“You’re going to eat in the middle of practice?” your eyebrow raises on its own.

“...Yes.”

There’s another slight pause.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” you chuckle. You still haven’t found the will to take a bite. Sharing a meal with Jun sounds nice, though. It’s highly unlikely it’s actually going to help with the predicament you’re in but the idea really is nice.

“You don’t have to eat much, I won’t either,” he coaxes you softly. You hear more doors opening and closing. Then something that sounds like a fridge and him rummaging around. “Just eat something, yeah?”

“I’ll try,” you promise.

“I’ll turn on the camera now,” Jun warns while he, at least judging by the sound, puts the food in the microwave. 

You just admire his pretty face while he waits for the food to warm up and try to push down the nausea. It’s hunger, it must be. But it does nothing to help you feel like eating. Your boyfriend yaps on about his day so far, about the practice, whines a little about how hard the new choreo is. It’s soothing, comforting. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t help much.

New wave of guilt washes over you when he sits down with his food and looks at you hopefully. You need to eat. You really need to. If for no other reason, then at least so that he doesn’t worry and can fully focus on the practice.

Finally you force your hands to move, your lips to open and your jaws to chew the first bite. Jun’s bright smile feels much better than the food you swallow.

“There we go,” he whispers to himself, trying to bite back the smile as he digs into his own lunch. You hear it anyway.

You smile a little too as you fight against your head to share a meal with him.

[dovesndecay]

It's June! It's Pride! It's (my) Birthday!

The Introduction Spiel:

Hi, I'm Reyah! (any pronouns! no really, go for it!) On June 21st, I'm turning 32, an exciting and mysterious age to be!! (So I've heard)

Warning: This is a post asking for financial help, and if there's one thing I would ask is that if you read the whole thing: please reblog.

I'm a multiply-disabled queer person of color, a writer, artist, and photographer. I live with three of my best-good-pal-friends, (@renthony, @kryptidkhaos, and @natalieironside) and our collective army of pets.

We all know it's damned hard to be all these things at the same time under the capitalistic hellscape we're living under, and we/I am always in need of a lot of help with the existing.

I ended the month of May with some smaller bills left still to pay, but am thankful to say that June already had fewer bills than usual due, and the amount I need to start the summer off right is actually less than I was afraid it would be! Woohoo!

What I Make

I mentioned my artistic endeavors, let me show you them!!

Writing

I write less often than I'd like, but I share poetry and shorts, when I have them, on my Patreon!

You must be over 18 to pledge, as I have, can, and will again share Adult Content occasionally. Patrons pledging at least $1/month get access to all content. But most posts becomes free to access eventually. :)

When I do longer form content, I primarily write fantasy with a focus on queer brown characters with disabilities, mental illnesses, and disordered attachments. Because therapy is expensive, and writing is free.

Photography

I do wildlife and landscape photography, primarily, but you can also check out my portrait and event work on my website! You can purchase PRINTS HERE.

And because it's my birthday, I'm offering a 32% discount code for all my prints! The code is good from June 1st to July 1st!

A Note, if you purchase a print: first off: thank you. (please feel free to send a photo of wherever you display it!!!) secondly: this will not go towards the received totals on my financial need because Pixels doesn't pay out until nearly 2 months after the purchase. Funds made from sales will go towards future needs.

CODE: PDHHTR

Artwork

I've been exploring art, both analog and digital, a lot more lately, and have shared both process photos and final drafts on Patreon! Here are just a few examples:

I admittedly don't post on patreon as much as I wish I had the energy to, but I try to make at least one thing a month, provided I have the spoons and time.

Creativity is, like, a level 5 spell slot when you're disabled and impoverished, and I appear to have exactly One (1) of those available at any given time.

The Needs:

The Bills: $1,100

Yeah, we had to get here eventually. Since this post is already pretty long, I'm putting the rest under a cut.

More than half of this, as always, is just for the car payment and insurance that keeps the regular day-job-haver getting to said job, and all our medical appointments, errands, etc.

I still owe around $13,000 total on Johnny Car, but I think we all know that's just not a real number.

The rest of the funds would go toward paying the small subscriptions, for my various medications, and the regular attempts to whittle away slowly at the $4,300 worth of other debt.

($2,200 of back taxes, and $2,100 of credit card debt, and gods, do I mean slowly. Interest piles up so much faster than I can seem to whittle.)

If you're able and willing to help with paying the bills, direct donations can be made here:

PayPal | (link)

Venmo | (dovesndecay)

Cashapp | ($dovesndecay)

If you can, and only if you can.

The It Would Be Cools:

Since every dime that comes in goes primarily towards food and bills, there's little left afterward to be put towards other life necessities like clothes, toiletries, let alone things I just think would be nice/neat/nifty to have.

I have a High Priority wishlist. It's mostly art supplies, bulk toiletries, etc.

I'm woefully low on clothes, being short, fat, and trans, so very little of what I own actually feels good to wear so much as it simply covers my body. I have a wishlist of clothes that would be nice to have.

For everything that firmly lands under the "I just want it" category, I have an Enrichment list. It's mostly stuffies, but also games, room decor, hobby supplies, books, and stim toys.

Our household keeps a big wishlist for things we need, want, groceries, accessibility products, and everything in-between.

Okay, now what?

Well, now, I'm gonna ask that if you got to this point, and if you can't/don't want to do any of the things listed above, then please reblog this post.

The more people that reblog it, the more likely I'm able to pay my bills for one more month this year.

But if you don't, it's not like anyone's gonna know. I'm not omniscient, I swear.

Anyway, I don't expect anyone to do anything if you can't or even if you just don't wanna, but if you can and you're willing to, it means the world.

I didn't think this is where I'd be at 32. But I never really expected to get here at all in the end, and it's a lot nicer than I thought it would be. Mostly because I am surrounded by amazing people who have the capacity to be so much kinder than I will ever have the words to describe.

Thank you, and to all, a happy pride!

🧡💛����💙💜🤎🖤

[ts-witchy-archive]

What is a road opener spell?

Something that really confused me as a beginner witch was 'road opener' spells. I heard people talk about these spells all the time but I had a hard time actually understanding what it meant until I did one myself. Because of that I decided to put together a little guide for all things 'road opener'. I hope this helps!

What does 'road opener' even mean?

Road opener is a type of spell to open the person up to new opportunities and to remove any blocks stopping them from obtaining those opportunities. These spells are great if you're feeling stuck. You don't have to have an opportunity in mind, you might just feel like everything is stagnant and you want things to start moving again.

What goes into a road opener spell?

Generally, these spells have 2 parts/aspects to them; removing barriers and negative energy and bringing in prosperity and new opportunities. You can do these together or seperate them into a 2 part spell, it all depend what you feel like. road opener is like a fancy name for a banishing spell mixed with a prosperity spell.

An example of a road opener spell:

Candle Spell:

A white, green or black candle (green for prosperity and growth, white as a replacement or to symbolise a fresh start or black to remove any negative energy or blocks) Black salt (to remove any negative energies or obstacles from your path) A bay leaf (for prosperity and wealth. write your intention on the leaf) A sigil with your intention cinnamon (represents wealth) cloves (protection and wealth) basil (protection and wealth) an anointing oil (note: optional) something to carve into the candle with (a sharp pencil, scissors, a paper clip, etc) a heat proof dish and candle holder Method: 1. Cleanse yourself, your work space and tools

2. Create your sigil. I like to use the intention 'All obstacles are removed from my path' or ' nothing stands in the way of my success' but it's completely up to you

3. Carve your sigil into your candle.

4. Write your intention on the bay leaf then place the candle on top of the leaf

5. Mix the remaining herbs together (except the black salt) and sprinkle them in a ring around your candle. If you wish to anoint your candle and roll it in herbs instead, this is the time to do so.

6. Place the black salt in a circle around the herbs and candle. This is to represent the banishment of any negative outside energies or to just get rid of anything that doesn't serve you anymore. You don't have to put it in a circle, it just works for me.

7. Watch the candle burn and focus your intention.

Notes: there are 1000s of ways to do this spell with all the ingredients I listed. If this spell doesn't feel right to you, don't do it or change it. It is only an example.

[showtoonzfan]

Now that the episode is out officially, here’s my rant review of Oops!

PROS:

- Fizz and Ozzie were adorable and I honestly love them. Despite the sex jokes, you can tell they love each other for who they are OUTSIDE of sex. While I did wish we would have seen more, (like how Ozzie took him in and fell in love) they’re still adorable to watch. They’re the better version of Stolitz, can the show be about them instead?

- Brandon’s voice acting holy shit, he really knows how to sound like he’s in tears or is broken. As much as I hate the character and feel no sympathy, he displayed genuine and broken emotion very well.

- Alex Brightman Alex Brightman

Okay that’s it. Moving on to the Cons. Bear with me, it’s a lot and I go back and forth a bit. 😭

CONS:

So for a quick short summary, this episode:

- Once again puts more focus on the filler plot rather than actually focusing on the relationships between the characters, so all we're left with is a 10 second clip of Fizz being burned while the rest of the episode is surrounded on sex jokes/petty bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around.

- Completely erases what made Blitz and Fizz's dynamic interesting in the first place because it retcons it with a dumb miscommunication trope about how Fizz actually wanted to see Blitz and Blitz tried reaching out to him. Not only does this feel like a cheap attempt to make Blitz out to be sweet/sympathetic and NOT the one in the wrong so Fizz can suck up to him, but this also makes no sense within the narrative.

- Has Fizz forgive Blitz despite him being the last person anyone would think would forgive him. (So honestly ruins Fizz himself because it turned him into a soft boy who's forgiving compared to the asshole he was in Ozzie's) All because Viv would sell her whole soul before she even remotely considers painting characters like Blitz and Stolas out to be the one's in the wrong.

- Takes Stolas out of the hospital completely, erasing all the drama/tension Western Energy had and proves that that episode was utterly pointless.

- Turns Striker from an interesting complex villain to a Saturday morning cartoon goon.

- Proves to us that Crimson is just a flat tool and gives us more prove that the world building rules Viv set up in season 1 legit don't matter.

-Ruins Blitz/Barbie's feud now because now you're making Barbie look like the one in the wrong since the fire was an accident. God forbid a female characters emotions in this show are justified.

But if you want my more in depth rants, it’s under the cut! (There’s a lot so bear with me lol)

- As usual WAAY too many sex jokes and swearing. It gets annoying and repetitive at times and some of them distract from the main plot. There’s a long and I mean LONNG dragged out joke of Fizz talking about Ozzie’s dick, then later saying he’s hard when Striker has a gun to his head, as well as Blitz making a joke about him and Fizz making out once they hug. Again, Viv can’t be serious for 2 seconds without an unfunny shitty gag. I genuinely wonder if Hazbin is ganna be like this, where a character is in a life threatening situation or a deep dark serious scene happens only for the next scene to be sex related.

- This is one of those “shit happens because the plot demands it” and it shows. Crimson and Striker COINCIDENTLY meet up with each other, and Fizz and Blitz just so HAPPEN to be in the same exact area they are. Viv wonders why we call her shit a fanfic and this is what we mean, when she creates wild wacky plots and focuses more on THAT rather than the actual character writing. This entire episode hinges on a useless poorly last minute planned kidnapping plot that didn’t need to happen. Also way to once again make the characters idiots so the plot can happen, cause Fizz KNOWS Ozzie worries for him and that the Greed Ring is dangerous, yet purposefully puts the spotlight on him.

- Stolas did NOT need to be in this episode. The plot completely ignores the fact that he was in the hospital the last time we saw him, and he’s only here for Stolitz banter. You’d think that a character admitting they have feelings for someone would be a big deal but he just flat out says it and it’s so underwhelming and feels half assed with no weight to it. Fan comics have made more dedication to this than Viv has. We're supposed to believe him too despite the show failing to actually SHOW us this. Same for Blitz ranting about how “nice” Stolas has been to him, laughing at his jokes and liking his posts…hey Viv, can we actually SEE that on screen so it’s more believable? Or are you only determined to show them sexually flirting? 😑

- Once again Viv felt the need to shove a B plot into this episode and this one sucks because it’s just two characters sitting and doing fucking nothing. It felt like Viv had no idea what to do with Stolas and Ozzie, and I refuse to believe that Ozzie just sat there knowing Fizz was in danger. If anything he would have said “fuck the paperwork” and went to save Fizz himself. Way to show that gif of Ozzie getting mad as a sneak peak to get fans excited, only to see that Ozzie spends the rest of the episode sitting in a dark room LMAO what a let down.

- Ozzie is weirdly chill and cool with Stolas and it’s something I don’t get. While he did say that Stolas had the real “spirit of Lust” in S1E7, it still gave you the impression that he was also more poking fun at Stolas rather than respecting him. The whole point of House of Asmodeous was that Ozzie outs him and publicly embarrassed him. Stolas literally was intimidated just by Asmodeous’s mere name, and hid his face around him. It seemed like Stolas certainly didn’t want someone like Ozzie to know about his private life especially since they’re both part of the Ars Goetia. Now here Ozzie is just cool with him and it feels like a missed opportunity for their dynamic.

- Stolas confessing his feelings about Blitz also makes…no sense narrative wise. I thought the whole point of The Circus and the ending to Western Energy was that he was realizing that Blitz didn’t like him that way and was finally waking up. I thought that’s why he was doing this whole crystal deal in the first place, so he can let Blitz go, yet the show keeps flip flopping and insisting that these two love each other and are good for each other. It’s really making you realize how this season and the previous stuff set up is becoming nonsense because the writers retcon EVERY damn episode. Also….why the hell is Stolas telling Ozzie his feelings for Blitz? Out of all people, why is it Ozzie, the person who outed Stolas and embarrassed him. Why is Stolas even respectful of Ozzie? He has no reason to, and he’s not under the impression that he’s dating Fizz either. I get that he needs the crystal but mentioning his love for Blitz makes no sense.

- Striker and Crimson teaming up to kidnap Blitz and Fizz was such an ass puller last minute decision. It feels overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time, more because it feels like Viv has no idea what to do with these two villain characters other than give them something evil to do to start the plot. Also…why…are they working together? It feels so random.

- Striker’s character especially is all over the place. First he’s working for Stella, then he’s painted as the best assassin in hell, and now he’s…looking for more work I guess and working for Crimson? Why? Does this guy even have a motive anymore? It feels like his character is just dangling around until Viv wants to use him for another wattpad kidnap plot and it ESPECIALLY shows when Striker escapes for the THIRD fucking time. Can this character/storyline actually GO somewhere or are you just going to keep introducing him and have him run away. 🤦🏽‍♀️

— How did Crimson not know who Striker is despite him being labeled as “the most popular assassin in hell”, and how the hell does Crimson know Ozzie and know all the information about him being in a relationship with Fizz?? Oh right because we needed the plot to happen somehow. Still, even if Crimson did know that Ozzie was the "weakest" and loved Fizz, (which….what about Beezlebub?)) he still should have known he was playing with fire. I get that he's supposed to be evil and intimidating but how could he have predicted that Ozzie would actually stand down and fill out the paperwork? He could have immediately came there and killed Crimson for all he knew. It's just distracting how..not planned this shit was.

- Fuck this episode for calling Striker a supremacist. It makes no sense?? Viv is trying SO hard to villainize him despite him being the one in the right and it pisses me off. He has every right to be mad at the upper class, he’s part of the lower class that we’re said Hell takes advantage of, but god forbid we call out Rich and powerful Stolas because that would mean he’s a b-bad person and we can’t have that complex morality! This is so not a “eat the rich” story and it shows bc Vivzie is rich as hell. Striker as a character deserves so much better man. Congrats writers, you had an interesting character and motive set up for him, now he’s nothing but a silly goon that you might as well kill off already cause you clearly don’t care about him. Crimson meanwhile is just a piece of paper, a boring plot device I could give less of a shit about. I thought his motive was to go after Moxxie, now he’s just doing fuck whatever because this show desperately wants a bad guy for their filler fanfic plots.

- We get more world building issues, Ozzie and Fizz are so determined to hide their relationship for obvious reasons, but then at the end of the episode just say “fuck it, no one would dare tell anyway”. So now they’re being open about their relationship and lmao I told y’all the newspaper scene of Ozzie being called out for being a hypocrite wouldn’t go anywhere. Even if Ozzie did threaten his workers to not tell, they can’t be so sure that someone wouldn’t see or snitch, it’s kinda a retcon too cause they were pretty lovey dovey in Ozzie’s. Still, it makes the characters look dumb and it makes the rules Viv set up for Hell once again not mean anything.

- We finally get to see Fizz’s backstory in action and it’s executed in the most underwhelming way possible. It’s literally a fucking 10 second clip of what went down, and rather than experiencing the event for ourselves, it’s in flashback mode but with Fizz’s voice talking over it. That’s it. I’ve seen fan comics/fanart that built this shit up better than Viv did, that actually took the slow time and dedication it needed, and here it feels like such an afterthought, like Viv could care less. Maybe if this actually was a character driven show like Viv claims, Stolas, Striker, and Crimson would be taken out of the picture and then that would leave us with PLENTY time to actually explore and develop Blitz/Fizz, bc most of this episode is just them pettily bickering and Stolas and Ozzie sitting around. But nah, we gatta have our fanfic kidnapping plot. Same goes for the reveal of Blitzo’s mom dying in the same fire. Glad to know that she got the same treatment Moxxie’s mom did, where we don’t even know her and yet we’re supposed to feel moved and care about her death. You nailed that one Viv. 👍

- I predicted that this episode would victimize Blitz and have the fire incident be an accident, (because Viv is a pussy writer and can’t make her characters actually do bad things like god forbid) but I never thought they’d actually have the balls to have Fizz forgive Blitz immediately in the same episode and pull the “actually turns out that horrible thing you did to me helped me in a way”- trope. Biggest flaw of the episode, fuck you Viv. I was actually going to applaud Blitz for taking accountability, but then the dialogue reminds you that an abuser wrote this, and he shifts his apology to “okay but I lost something too see so it’s not all about you” as if he’s fucking dismissing Fizz’s trauma and making it about himself. “I love flawed characters” my fucking ass. I would have smacked a bitch if I was Fizz because Blitzo loosing his mother in the fire too isn’t an excuse?? Fizz lost his fucking ARMS AND LEGS, and at the end of the day Blitzo STILL KNEW HE WAS HELPLESS IN THE FIRE BUT LEFT HIM BEHIND. He could have gotten help and came back, but didn’t. If this were a good show Fizz would have threw that apology back in Blitzo’s face and said “I don’t care if it was an accident or not, you still left me there and then proceeded to loathe me for years”. This is why Helluva will never be Bojack cause at least characters in that show who got treated horribly by him knew when to say “no, fuck you.”

- The episode retcons again, this time they make it out to be that Blitz TRIED contacting Fizz the years they were apart but no one would let him see him. Then they say that Fizz actually WANTED to see Blitz but assumed he didn’t want to, so their entire feud was solely because of miscommunication?? Number one, show don’t fucking tell omg. And number two, that makes ZERO sense. Blitz talked badly about Fizz in Loo Loo Land, and when they finally reunited in Ozzie’s, it was clear they fucking loathed each other. You got the impression that Blitz was petty and jealous just because Fizz was more popular, and Fizz not only loathed him for the accident, but liked to rub in his face about how much of a big shot he was. They literally do that in this episode too, so the episode is literally contradicting itself. Blitz and Fizz had multiple chances to meet up with each other, you can’t just say “oh they couldn’t because no one would let them”- So which is it? Did they hate each other because of bad blood, petty drama, or that they thought the other didn’t want to see them? Pick ONE Viv and stick to it, but she never does. Their feud was interesting and now you ruined it just to have some sweet happy ending. “Adult mature show” my ass lol.

-Bottom line is Fizz shouldn’t have forgave Blitz so easily, or forgave him period. I find it funny how he says “it’s hard to just forgive you” and then he literally does lol. I feel so bad for Fizz fans, him and Blitz’s feud was honestly interesting, so to see all of this go down in a half-assed piss poor way as if this was Care Bears is….wow. The fan interpretations had more thought and care put into this storyline but what else is new lol.

- I’m really tired of these shitty annoying songs. If you’re going to get Broadway actors, please put effort into your songwriting and actually have them sing something good, not something that’s literally nonsense. This Fizz song sounds like it took less than a minute to write and Sam Haft was just thinking of anything he could think of at the top of his head. Also Why the fuck are Striker and Crimson just STANDING there while Fizz sings. They look like idiots, just SHOOT them omg. If this were a funny show, Fizz would have started his first note and Crimson just rolls his eyes and pulls his gun out.

- Fizz and Ozzie kill the lawyer but not…Crimson? Despite Fizz knowing what ring he’s in and even Ozzie knowing what he looks like? Same for Blitz, he doesn’t try to make sure Striker is dead. I get that the plot demands for these two to still be around, but there’s a way to keep them alive without making the main characters look like fucking idiots. Also Stolas just leaves without doing or contributing anything to the plot yay.

- Fizz: “Let him have it, you could say he’s earned it”— Uhm….Nope. Blitz did NOT earn shit. He didn’t even earn Fizz’s forgiveness. Last time I checked, the moment Blitz cried and said it was an accident, Fizz forgave him, knowing he didn’t mean it. What effort did Blitz do to “earn” that as well as the crystal? Because he saved Fizz and didn’t leave him behind for the SECOND time near the end?? Cause if so than the bar is extremely low. That’s the bare minimum, just because Blitz cried and felt bad about it doesn’t mean he should be let off the hook Viv. I hate this so much, what a shitty conclusion, it feels forced just so Blitz can have the crystal and just so the writers can once again paint him as the one in the right. It’s almost insulting that they make it seem like Fizz was in the wrong for assuming Blitz starting the fire too, same for Barbie.

God what a shitty day it is to be a Fizz fan, I’m sorry. The episode did NOT do him justice. Fizzarolli deserved better than that half assed gaslighting apology for someone who lost their arms and legs man, and I’m tired of the show letting every character suck up to Blitz and Stolas for their horrible treatment just because they feel bad. Not only that but the episode (as most recent HB episodes) was a huge time waster. Everyone was really hoping for an in depth walkthrough of his character/backstory but again, when he’s not with Ozzie, the rest/most of his screen time is dedicated to him being helpless and pointlessly arguing with Blitz, plus a long dragged out nonsense song that didn’t need to happen. It felt like SO much time was wasted when we could have used the runtime we have to dive deeper and see more, like….again it would have been nice to see Fizz’s life AFTER the accident and how he became well known as well as how he fell in love with Ozzie, but his backstory is briefly scratched upon in a single scene and that’s it, all because Viv wanted this filler plot and wanted to dedicate more time to THAT rather than actual character expansion/development, something we could have got had you took out Stolas and Ozzie’s B plot and Striker and Crimson.

Viv is so on her way to murder/ruin every character that isn’t Blitz and Stolas and I won’t be here to watch further. I’ll check out the Mammon music video thing but that’s it man, this show is going off the rails, Adding Fizz to the character adoption list!

[blushstarot]

PICK A CARD: a message from your future self

Pick whichever picture you feel more attracted to and skip to that pile.

Pile 1

nine of cups, four of wands (reversed), the magician (reversed).

Okay, but this pile is giving me really sweet vibes, your future self feels like a genuinely carrying person, and looks back at you as a mother figure would. They just want you to be happy and feel welcomed and the energy is overall very heartwarming. Quick thing I want to add before y'all actually read the letter, i don't know if some of you are fans of musicals, specifically of Hamilton, but while I was writing the letter, the melody of dear theodosia was playing in my head so yeah, it might be important for you to know.

"Right now you may feel like you don't fit in, that you lack support, and that you aren't enough. I know you feel insecure but believe when I tell you that you don't have to be scared about that, you are enough and you all the skills and abilities you need to be successful. The universe is working to bring blessings your way, but you have to put some work on it too. Use your intellect, concentration and willpower to make this wonderful things happen, you have the power to manifest the outcome you want. Leave the past behind and put your mind in anything you want to accomplish, I know all our wishes and dreams will become a reality soon enough, for now it's the time of time of happiness, joyfulness and fulfillment."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 2

page of cups (reversed), strength (reversed), page of pentacles.

I actually had to redo this pile because I got busy with something important mid reading, and when I had time to continue I couldn't really connect to it again, so I pulled other three cards to do the reading again. The vibes then and the vibes in this new one, suggest that your future self know you are having hard times, and are probably dealing with some childhood related issues, but they want to tell you that things will get better. Also something tells me that they REALLY wanted you to get their message, since they sent both the bearer of messages and the bearer of good news.

"You're going through difficult times, and right now I want you to try to connect with your inner child by embracing the fun side of life. I've always loved how we are young at heart, even sometimes a little bit naïve, but lately you've been ignoring your inner emotions and listening too much to people that are bringing you and your self-esteem down. I bring you good news from the future, a future where all our goals are achieved, but that is only possible if you make the right decisions now and put the groundwork necessary. The future I'm from might seem too far away from were you are today, but time passes quickly and is unforgiving, so I want you to take my advise and keep it close to your heart. I know you can become a person who is both mature and young at heart, I've seen it and have been cheering for you through all that journey, because after all I'm you, and I've already done it."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Pile 3

the fool, strength (reversed), five of swords.

I feel like your future self is encouraging you to start something new, maybe something you always wanted to try but never really made time to give it a chance. They want you to focus on the positive and to stay away from people that don't support your dreams. Overall, I feel this is more of a warning of what's to come, in hopes it helps you to be more prepare to face it.

"You're going to enter a new chapter in your life, it may look like something difficult at first, but you need to tap into your inner strength and don't let your fears and anxiety paralyze you. This new chapter is full of exciting and thrilling adventures, you just have to trust your heart and make a leap of fate. If you are not careful, you might end up self-sabotaging and getting involved in a serious conflict, causing unnecessary stress. When the time is right, I need you to stand up for what you truly want and what you believe."

**As in all the PACs, just take what resonates and leave what doesn't, this is for entertainment only, so have fun with it!

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think of your message.

You can find more of my PACs on my master list, and if you have any suggestions on future PACs you want to see me do, you can send me and ask.

Bye byeee ✨

[filmtv2022]

Your Fate Is My Own

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Reader

Synopsis: The reader finds herself trapped in the shadow of her brothers, Geta & Caracalla. When General Marcus Acacius returns to Rome at the behest of the emperors, she is forced to face the very person she thought she'd lost forever.

Warnings: Kiss(es) + some swearing + period-appropriate expectations of women.

A/N: So to be fucking for real... I have no idea if this story complies with the plot of the movie or what actually happened in history. I have some working knowledge of Roman history, but I wasn't too pressed about getting things "right" for this story. If that bothers you... just move on. I wanted to focus on an interesting relationship backstory between the reader and Marcus. If you guys like this and/or I feel like it, there is the possibility I'd write more for these two (probably after watching the movie here in a couple of weeks.) As always, all mistakes are my own, forgive me!

-----------------------------------------------------

Echoed voices traversed the cavernous halls of the palace, greeting you long before the men to whom they belonged reached the marble and gold gilded room you inhabited. Perhaps it would have been prudent to stand, to adjust the layers of your flowing cotton dress, or even to consider in any way your appearance ahead of such a meeting with your illustrious guest, but no part of you could find it within yourself to care. Not when more pressing matters weighed heavily on your mind. 

Wood groaned under the brutish touch of the emperors’ posse. The guards that constantly flanked them entered the room first, posting themselves near the windows and door, their faces stoic or bored, more likely the latter considering the vapid tirade of shit flowing from Geta's mouth. The wine was bitter against your tongue, burning the delicate skin of your throat with each sip. A haze had settled over your limbs, leaving them heavy and your tongue loose. 

Your brother’s diatribe continued unchecked even as his guest’s attention waned. The General’s armor-clad chest practically gleamed in the flowing torchlight. The world seemed to move and sway around the trio, their power and might on display, but there was a difference to be sure. Geta’s slight frame held no weight,  and yet every ear turned to him, every hand either sought to please him or to protect him. Caracalla was somehow even less imposing, his attention to Geta so fervent it bordered on the obscene. The same could not be said for the General. His mere presence in the space filled it to the breaking point. Energy, passion, and intelligence poured off of him, setting those around on edge, wondering about his next step. His attention was rightly divided between the twittering men beside him, the guards stationed around him, and strikingly, the addition of your presence before him. 

The soft swish of your dress as you stood was lost in the chaos of the moment, but your words were not. They were out of your mouth before their implication could be considered, something you’d likely pay dearly for later. 

“Marcus Acacius.” The room stopped, and footfalls drew silent as every eye fell on you, now standing beside the head of the table. “How lovely to see you! " Thinly veiled disgust and temperament sharpened each word.

“It’s General, dear sister. Address him properly or I fear I must ask you to leave.” Geta’s voice grated at your nerves but now was not the time. 

“Do not pretend any of you wish for my company, but I shall do my best to acquiesce to the niceties you desire.” A sly smile turned the corner of your lips as you addressed the statuesque figure beside Geta. “General Marcus Acacius, how are you finding the Rome you’ve so diligently protected? I’m sure my brothers have spared no expense in treating you to our finest. One can only hope it's been enough to cover up the stinking pile of shit that festers in the heart of this city.” 

“Sister!” Geta snapped, spittle flying from his lips as he scolded.

“Brother.” You paid him only momentary attention, just long enough to freeze his protests before turning back to the General. “You’ve yet to answer to me, General? Don’t tell me the great warrior's afraid to speak his mind.” 

Hesitant, he searched for the words he hoped wouldn’t further inflame the situation,  and fell short, “It has been adequate.” 

“Adequate.” You couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that tumbled from your lips, “Just adequate? You mean to tell me that the blood sport of the arena doesn’t hold the same allure as it once did? But I mean how could it after all those years spent traipsing about in carnage? Burning and bloodying foreign lands all for a scrap of glory. I'm sure nothing can compare to that.”

Caracalla grumbled, but his words were stilled by Marcus’ subdued response, “You disagree with the expansion of Rome?” 

“What I do or do not agree with is of little importance.” Reaching for the decanter of wine, you sloshed more into the empty crystal glass that sat perched before you. 

“But you do? Disagree that is?” He held your gaze, searching for something in your eyes while divulging nothing of his own feelings. 

“Those are your words, not mine.” Clearing the edge of the table, wine in hand, you stepped closer to your brothers and their esteemed guest. “Now, if you’ll forgive me, I believe it is time for me to retire for the evening.” With only your eyes, you met Marcus', the soft brown of his seemed to glow, “General.” 

“My lady.” 

With no further words of departure, you left the room stunned to silence. There would most certainly be hell to pay for the way that conversation had gone, but that was indeed a problem for later. 

----------------------------------------------------

The inky blackness of the night sky and shadowed land blended seamlessly into the horizon. Free from the burden of the public eye, you luxuriated in the gentle breeze that wafted through the open balcony door. Below the soft murmur of voices had given way to the occasional clatter of armor as the guards settled into their usual spots, for no matter your differences Geta would be damned if you were left unprotected. Sadly, and to his lack of understanding, the guards he’d so carefully chosen had a deep penchant for showing up to their watch three sheets to the wind. 

You couldn't be sure of the hour,  but it had been quite some time since you’d made your exit. Greeting the General with words of derision hadn't been the anticipated outcome and still, you felt no qualms about it. For the General was astute in his assumption, you did disagree with the expansion of Roman territory. For Rome was long past the point of needing more and the conquest had become one merely for the purpose of appearances. How better to convince the world of your prowess than to eliminate the threat of opposition? Ply them with entertainment, blind with enthusiastic and unbridled patriotism, and pray to the gods no one noticed the foundation crumbling beneath them. That was the plan, tenuous and strained though it was. 

Laying back upon the pillows, their silk coverings ran cool against your wine-flushed skin. The weight of your frame pressed into the bed below, forming to your curves and hugging you tightly. It was glorious and yet it was a comfort you knew too many hardworking and loyal Romans would never experience. The safety of a warm room and a bed for rest, without a care or thought as to where their next meal would come from. It seemed unfair that you, of all people, should have so much when so many did more with far less.  But that was never to be your lot, fighting for Rome, for the poor farmer, for those who were the backbone of society. No, there'd never be a place for you to do that. Instead, you found yourself resigned to a life behind closed doors, seen and not heard when in public, and entirely ignored in private.  

A quiet knock sounded across the room, snapping your eyes open and pricking at your nerves. The ever-present danger that lurked within the inner circle left you cautious, but when a second knock met your ears it removed the choice of inaction. The marble was chilled beneath your bare feet, sending a silent shiver down your spine. At the door, you pressed your ear to the wood, listening for any sign of distress beyond. Hearing nothing, you cracked the barrier and took in your surroundings. 

No longer dressed in his formal attire, General Marcus Acacius stood no less formidable than before, and yet the lines beside his eyes told of the bone-deep exhaustion that weighed him down like a heavy trading ship caught in a violent storm. 

“General Acacius. If you are looking for my brothers they are not here. And at this hour it is likely that are… otherwise engaged.”

“It is not them I seek.” His demeanor remained that of a battle-trained soldier, calm and collected.

“I see.” Turning away, you stepped back into the room leaving the door open behind you while closing those that marked the balcony. Marcus took that as an invitation to enter the space, closing the door behind him, and stopping just beyond it.  With your back still to him, you continued to speak, “Then how may I be of assistance? For we've already established I have not the eyes nor the ears of the Emperors. And as unfortunate as it may be, the senate has their heads so far up their own asses I fear the only thing they can see is the putrid brown of the Tiber during a flood.”

“Drop the act.” Marcus struggled against his instinct and remained glued to his spot. 

“There is no act, Marcus.” You snapped back to face him, your jaw clenched with every word. “There is only a role which must be fulfilled. And as thankful as I am to the gods for only time parting us and not death, I'm afraid you no longer have a part to play in my story.”

“Don't do this.” His voice was even, unfazed despite the swell of emotion that barreled toward the surface. 

“Do what? Speak the truth?” Your stomach flipped, sending bile burning in your throat. The General’s brows knitted together, sharing barely a fragment of his pain, but it was enough for you to see the war he waged inside.

“Push me away.” And with that, his steadfastness broke. Quick and powerful steps brought him to you, his broad hands falling to your waist and cheek, tipping your face to his and pleading for you to listen. 

“I am not the one who left, remember that.” The bridge of your nose burned and wetness pooled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the stunning vision of the man before you. “I am not the one who has stayed away all these years.”

“There was no choice! They told me to go and I went. If I’d refused… they would’ve-” 

“Killed you, I know, and I fault you not for it. And yet that changes nothing of what I've said. ” Your forehead dropped to the center of his chest as his sure fingers threaded through your hair, cupping the back of your head. Reaching for him, your fists twisted in the front of his tunic. The maroon fabric was soft to the touch, but it was the heady scent of him that filled your senses forcing the tears from your eyes. “I cannot be your Marcus, not in the way that is desired. We cannot do this, fall back into each other’s arms, and pretend as if nothing has changed. You are here to appease the Emperors and I am… I am nothing more than a pawn to be owned and then put into play at the right time.”

With every ounce of gentleness he could muster, Marcus lifted your face to his. The timber of his whisper traveled gracefully to your broken heart, “No matter what they desire, you are no one’s property for they cannot steal the wonder that is your loving heart and tenacious mind. Rome would be a far better place if people such as yourself were given the space and power to make it so.” 

His calloused thumb brushed tender arcs along the high point of your cheek. Trapped in his gaze, your voice quivered, “And Rome is better with you as her General. Never forget the kindness in your heart, Marcus. That desire to protect those in need. They’ve tried to twist you into something brutish and lowly, but they do not know the goodness that runs deep within you. May the gods never let them steal it.” 

The silence that fell between you was heavy with desire, and unspoken need, for words were not enough. Knowing this and throwing all caution to the wind, Marcus brought his lips to yours. The embrace was slow and passionate. Drinking in the taste of you, his lungs hitched at the feeling of your hands on his body moving along the broad expanse of his chest.  You toyed delicately with his tunic, memorizing the feel of him beneath the thin fabric that separated you. A deep grumble reverberated in his chest, sending shivers down your spine. Only the distant sounds of heavy footfalls broke the pair of you apart. 

With chest heaving, Marcus rested his brow against yours. The warmth of his breath drifted over your face, comforting you in the wash of emotions that battered in the wake of your shared embrace. Sensing the moment waning, you spoke the truth you’d feared to share but knew could mean the difference between life and death. “Hear me Marcus, do not trust them. Move with them only so far as is necessary. You are nothing more to them than a means to an end, listen not to their praises and promises. Your fate rests squarely in the hands of men who care little whether you live or die.” 

The General swallowed hard, catching his breath before he replied, “I hear you. And I promise you, from my lips to the gods, I will fight to stay by your side if you’ll have me. I am yours for as long as fate will allow. No more running. No more putting glory above all else. I made the mistake of leaving you behind, and there is no future in which I intend to make that mistake over again.” 

“Your fate is my own. If you burn, I burn with you.” Once again you found each other, your lips working in perfect synchronization. For now only the power of the gods could stop the pair of you. Together you’d face the tempest and weather the storm for the hope of a brighter tomorrow stood just beyond its shadows.

[cupidriki]

ROBLOX THERAPIST - N.RK

IN WHICH..

Riki, a young artist, was going through a tough time mentally. Despite his struggles, he was afraid to express his feelings. One day, while playing Roblox, he stumbled upon an online "therapist" who caught his attention - not only because she matched his weird energy but also because she seemed to be a fan of his music. However, he soon discovered that this "therapist" was actually a girl his age who was desperately seeking Robux. Despite this unusual situation, Riki couldn't help but feel drawn to her and curious about what their interactions would bring.

WARNINGS

enha getting overworked, writing sucks ass

STAR’S DIARY..

promise i’ll focus on this smau 🙏🙏

★ SESSION ONE ★

( i lowk hate this job. )

“ I am pleased to announce that we are preparing for another comeback! “

As everyone clapped except Riki, He felt Jungwon nudging him before he used the little energy he had left to lift his hands and clap.

Riki and his group, ENHYPEN just had a world Tour and had a lot of appointments. Riki thought that with all that work, he would have at least a little bit of time to rest.

Riki was struggling with the reality of his manager's words. He had left behind his loved ones and the place he called home, all in pursuit of his dream of becoming an idol.

Despite his efforts, he appeared to feel defeated and disheartened with the way things had turned out for him.

Sure, he was grateful, but he wished for just one hour of worry-free Roblox time.

So as Riki and his group went back to their dorm, Riki immediately went on his computer and started to click Roblox, his favorite game.

It was a way to escape reality to him. Numerous games to play and all the things he could do, it was relaxing.

But what caught his attention was a girl-looking avatar spamming “ therapy “ over and over again.

As he approached her stand, he started to type on his keyboard while admiring her ambitiously.

— fym by therapy, rkirkigenius45

— I’m offering therapy in exchange for robux, robuxlver

— damn 💀 ur desperate, rkirkigenius45

— SHUT UP, robuxlver

As Riki chuckled, He started typing again.

— i’m down, rkirkigenius45

— fine 🙄🙄, robuxlver

As Riki started laughing at how unhinged the other person was, he started to forget all of his worries.

— OKAY FIVE PM TMR KOREAN TIME OK, robuxlver

— sure, rkirkigenius45

As Riki and the anonymous person say goodbye, he can't help but wonder what will happen next.

TAGLIST ★ @leaderwon @pepririka @loriszeretinikit @astrid-potato @chappellroan @enh4ht @rosas-in-the-garden @yerisrev @ihrtnrk @rikisgeef @rikikiynikilcykiki @ms-no1kpopstan @roastandtoast @soobs-things @soobiary @dimplewonie @miyseung @sol3chu @bambangan @jumigurumino

BACK SCHEDULE NEXT

[astarionapologist]

Negan x Reader

Unlikely Sanctuary

Setting: beginning of season 10 when Alexandria deals with the small waves of walkers.

Prompt: After dealing with the countless waves of Walkers stumbling upon Alexandria’s doorsteps. Getting supplies to and from Hilltop has been more difficult. A missing shipment of Medical supplies to Alexandria results with you and Negan setting out to go and find it. That is until things go completely wrong.

Warnings: N/A mainly fluff a bit angsty and relationship building/slow burn

I was also in the middle of writing this when I got a request that kinda perfectly fit with this so whoever asked… please enjoy!

Request: would you write some negan x reader?? angsty platonic negan being caring abt u. u get hurt maybe including "cmon look at me. open your eyes darlin" (I switched darlin for hon in this fic… I KNOW IM SORRY SHOOT ME. I just thought it fit a little better this time around 😢)

The numbing pain in your cheeks from the biting cold was all you could feel. Your body moved sluggishly as you worked tirelessly for the fifth consecutive night to protect Alexandria’s walls from the relentless waves of Walkers. Whether the Whisperers were behind this assault or not, your mind was too clouded with the struggle to stay awake to focus on that. You paused for a moment, pinching the space between your eyes with your head hung low, when a gentle hand settled on your shoulder. Turning, you saw Michonne, a look of worry etched on her face.

“Y/N I have a job for you.”

“What is it? Anything new news with the Whispers or-?”

“Possibly… we’re missing a shipment that was due yesterday. And with these ongoing herds I’m worried there’s a chance something happened…”

“I need you to rest for tonight and save your energy for tomorrow morning. I want you to look for the shipment and help deliver it here. Please…. I wish I could send you out there with someone but… we’re short-handed . If you’re unsure I don’t mind going instead. I just need you to take over while I’m gone.”

“That would be unnecessary, I have someone to accompany Y/N. Someone who’s in dire need of a job.”

Gabriel says a bit tense as he looks over to motion over at Negan who was currently on clean up duty discarding any piled up walkers.

“You can’t be serious….” Michonne mumbled under her breath.

“I can assure you I am. He is perfectly able to go out and work. Keeping him here to shovel up the dead when he’s more useful outside is just foolish.” Gabriel sighs heavily

"Listen up, Padre. I get that you're putting yourself on the line to get me in with your little mystery crew. But honestly? I'd rather be out here picking tomatoes and burying corpses. So, if it's all the same to you, I'll stick to that." He says in heavy breaths as he wipes the sweat off his brows.

“Tsk he’d be more of a pain then an actual use.” Michonne says under her breath.

“You can fight! And Y/N can’t go alone it’s too dangerous!” Gabriel begins to shout

“Peanut butter meet Jelly!….” He says motioning his hands to both you and Negan.

“He’s going end of discussion” Gabriel ends the conversation while storming off to another issue that needs his attention.

“Well shit…” You quietly heard Negan.

“Look Michonne don’t worry about me okay? I think I can manage with Negan it’s not so big of a deal” You say calmly. You've heard the tales of how ruthless Negan was when he led the Saviors, a cold-blooded force on the battlefield who didn't believe in mercy. Yet, mercy was exactly what he received from Rick Grimes. Despite all the stories, you remained unfazed. You were not someone to be controlled by cautionary tales, nor one to believe blindly in them. Even so you weren’t exactly excited to go on this run with Negan but at least him coming along meant the risk of making it back was a lot higher.

*

The next morning, you stood beside Negan, waiting for the gate to open. It was time to set off and discover what had happened to the missing delivery. The journey itself was quiet for a while, of course until Negan started getting a bit talkative….

"Hey, you ever think about what you'd be doing if all this hadn't happened?" Negan asks, glancing sideways at you.

You keep your eyes on the road ahead, but decide to answer. "I try not to. Seems like a waste of energy, you know? Thinking about what could've been."

Negan nods, seeming to appreciate your honesty. "Yeah, I get that. But sometimes I can't help it. Before all this, I was a high school gym teacher. Can you believe that?"

“Honestly kinda? Pegged you for the type who probably peaked in high school.”

“Ouch… maybe you’re not wrong but shit man! Did ya have to be so blunt?” He chuckles

“Besides what did you even do before the world when to shit?”

You hesitate, then decide to share. "I worked in an office. Not very exciting, but it paid the bills."

“Wasting away in an old office huh? What a snore, but hey! Excitement isn't everything. Stability's got its perks."

“Yeah I guess so-” and awkward chuckle escapes your lips as you wonder why he suddenly started pointless idle chatter.

"So," you say, trying to kill the short awkward silence "you ever miss it? Teaching, I mean."

Negan's expression softens. "Sometimes.”

“Miss the kids, mostly. They were a good bunch. But you can't dwell on the past too much, right? Gotta keep moving forward."

“Right… forwards” Something about him talking about moving forwards kind of ticked you off. He’s the reason why so many of the people you care about are stuck in the past and for some reason he’s allowed to just move forward?

Negan looks at you, his gaze more serious now. "Listen, I know you've heard things about me. About what I did. And I don't expect you to forget that. But I'm trying to be different now. Trying to make up for some of it." He sighs distantly looking forward onto the trail ahead.

You nod slowly.

"I get it," Negan says. "Trust is earned, not given. But for what it's worth, I'm glad we're out here together. Feels nice stepping out a bit and talking to someone who doesn’t immediately want to cut my head off.”

“For what it’s worth… I‘ve always been one to believe actions speak louder than words”

“Yeah? Well thanks… it means a lot.” A smile forms on his lips as he lets out a small yet warm laugh

The conversation fades into a more comfortable silence, and as you continue on your way, you find that the initial awkwardness is slowly being replaced by a tentative sense of camaraderie.

The day quickly fades, and you soon realize you need to find a place to set up camp. Fortunately, you passed an old cabin a couple of miles back. If you hurry, you might be able to make it there before the sun sets.

"Hey, it's getting late. We should head back to the cabin we found earlier. It's not too far, and if we leave now, we can probably make it before dark."

Negan pauses and looks up at the dwindling light in the sky above him. “Hm, yeah, you’re right. Good call. Better than being alone in the forest, easy prey for these deadheads, right?"

About half an hour later, you're halfway to the cabin when you notice a Walker roaming closer to you in the woods. You find it strange how quiet these woods have been. This is the first walker you've encountered during your run. The woods have been unnervingly lifeless and still, with little to no animals in sight. You’re far enough from the masses of herds that stumbled into Alexandria, so they shouldn't have disturbed the wildlife here. Yet, you stand on edge with a chill up your spine, as if you can feel many unwanted eyes staring at you.

“I got this one” You say pulling out your hatchet

The Walker staggered closer, its guttural moans breaking the eerie silence of the woods. With a swift, practiced motion, you drew your hatchet, its blade gleaming in the fading light. The hatchet whistled through the air, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the walker's skull. For a moment, there was silence, the hatchet was pulled free, the only sound left was a faint rustle.

As soon as the first walker appeared, another followed close behind. Then two more, then three. Before long, a small herd had formed, lazily shuffling side to side like a mindless group of cattle.

“Stay on guard… we’re not alone.” Negan said drawing out his crowbar stained with the blood of the dead.

“They’re here…”

“There’s too many of them… we have to act fast, make a run for it if we have to.” You stand at a ready position ready to either commit to fighting or flighting.

“I hear ya, but we don’t know the difference between the Walkers and the Whispers yet…” he pauses slightly at the end and exhales deeply “Stay close you hear?”

You nod at Negan, shifting a bit closer to him. "You're right," you say, eyes darting around the shadowy woods. "But we can't afford to stay here. Let's move."

With that, you both take off through the underbrush, the walkers' moans growing louder behind you. The forest floor is uneven, roots and rocks hidden beneath a blanket of leaves. Your breath comes in quick gasps, and your heart pounds in your chest. The adrenaline pushes you forward, but a misplaced step sends you crashing down. A sharp pain shoots through your ankle

“Fuck- shit shit shit” a small whimper escapes your mouth

“Negan!”you cry out, clutching your leg.

Negan skids to a halt and rushes back to your side. "Dammit," he mutters, glancing at the rapidly approaching walkers. "Shhh you’re okay don’t worry just hang on." He hefts you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder

Despite the searing pain, you try to keep moving. Negan's strong grip and determination push you both forward, but the walkers are relentless. He swings his crowbar, bashing in heads and keeping the undead at bay. One walker lunges, and he shoves it back its skull cracking under the force of his blow.

“I don’t know how long I can’t keep going” a deep and shaky inhale leaving your breath

“Just a bit further hold on. Just say with me”

Negan spots a narrow ravine up ahead, partially hidden by dense undergrowth."There," he says, pointing. "We'll lose them in there."

“A choke point… smart we’ll lose them all hopefully Walkers and Whispers alike.

He helps you hobble toward the ravine, the ground becoming steeper and more treacherous. As you descend into the shadows, the moans of the walkers grow fainter. The dense foliage and uneven terrain slow them down, giving you both a chance to catch your breath.

"We need to keep moving," Negan urges, his voice low and urgent. "They'll figure out a way around eventually."

You try and stand, a sharp pain consumes your ankle as you stumble on forward, fortunately enough Negan catches you before you completely fall.

“Shit- hey settle down okay? I’ll carry you the rest of the way. We’re only about a mile or two away we’ll make it”

“N-no I’m fine I can do this, I don’t need help” You stand up again this time you stumble forwards and fall into your hands and knees”

“Jesus Christ do not fucking do this right now”

“Whatever this is? Pride, embarrassment, Fear? I need you to fucking swallow it and let me help you.” He’s agitated but nonetheless somewhat patient.

“No… just-“

“Just what Y/N? If you think I’ll just happily fuck off and leave you hanging you’re wrong”

“Just think… I can’t keep walking, we make it to the cabin then what? What if they find us how… long until I just drag you down and end up taking you down with me?” You respond in a low shaky voice looking down at the floor

He shakes his head and sighs “cmon… look at me.” He notices how tightly you have your eyes shut as you silently shake with fear.

“Open your eyes hon….” he says, squatting down to meet your gaze. His hand gently rests on your knee, offering a steady, reassuring presence.

“I’m sure as hell ain’t leaving you behind… besides if I did I’m sure they’d hang me back home” he chuckles a bit then shakes his head at his own stupidity

Negan looks at you, a serious expression crossing his face. "I ain't leaving you, alright? You're something rare in this shitshow of a world. You've got hope in people. Even in people like me. Hell, I thought you'd rather take your chances alone than with some shit-faced old man who's done a lot of crappy things. But you... you’re putting me first, and that’s something beautiful in a world like this one. You’re a good person, Y/N. You don’t deserve to die cruelly or horribly. And definitely not alone. So if you're staying, you best fucking believe I'm staying too."

“W-what?” You look up in shock of what he just said

"You can't stay here! You have to leave, please," you plead, your voice trembling. "I'll only slow you down." Desperation and fear lace every word.

“Hmmm think I am gonna stay right here” a coy smile displayed on his lips

“Unless… I don’t know” He taps on his chin “ I carry you the rest of the way to the cabin?”

“I’m being serious here you can’t-”

“Oh so am I. What is it going to be hon? Are we stayin’ or??”

“Fine- shit fuck okay…” you put your arms in your hands embarrassed at how full circle this scenario just became.

“Good answer!!” He chuckles squaring done so you can easily climb on his back.

With renewed determination, you both push forward. The forest is still eerily quiet, but the sense of being watched has diminished. As the sun dips lower in the sky, you finally spot the outline of the cabin through the trees.

"There!" you whisper, pointing at the small rundown cabin.

Negan helps you into to the cabin quickly setting you on a sofa not to far from the entrance. The small, rustic interior feels like a sanctuary compared to the dangers outside.

Negan collapses against the wall, breathing heavily. "That was too close," he says, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. He looks over at you, concern in his eyes. "How's that ankle?"

“Shit” you say inspecting the injury “But thankfully not too shitty, I just glad we made it okay”

He nods, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah, we did." He stands, offering you a hand. "Let's see if we can find something to patch you up. We're not out of this yet."

The night finally settles in, the oppressive darkness of the forest pressing against the cabin walls. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't find anything useful for your ankle. Negan managed to rig up a crate as a makeshift stool to elevate it, offering some small relief. He strides to the fireplace and swiftly gets to work, expertly bring a fire to life without wasting a moment.

"Rest up, okay? I'll take the first watch," Negan says, his voice softer than usual, a protective edge to it.

You nod, exhaustion pulling at your eyelids. The adrenaline has worn off, leaving you bone-tired and achingly aware of your injury. As you lie back, the faint crackle of the fire and the steady rhythm of Negan's breathing become a comforting backdrop. You close your eyes, trusting him to keep you safe, and slowly drift off to sleep.

Omg I haven’t wrote anything in forever but I’m so glad I did! Again srry for any spelling mistakes! I also plan on maybe making a part two for this so keep an eye out for that one! Let me know what you think and feel free to request! Thanks you bye<3

[steddieas-shegoes]

hi! i love your works so much and i have a request ^^ i wanted to ask if you could do a jealous and/or possessive eddie? maybe where steve and eddie are super close to finally admitting they like each other and just need one more push or something, or they're just newly dating. they're both at a gay bar, and steve's been receiving lots of stares and heated gazes from some of the ppl there? maybe a person was brave enough to try but eddie's right beside him watching the entire interaction.

i've come across a fair share amount of jealous/possessive steve in steddie stories and i wanted to see it being eddie for a change. tysm in advance and i can't wait to read the other requests with your amazing writing <3

I LOVE possessive Eddie!!! I really only see it in Kas!Eddie or vampire Eddie situations and I wish it was written more for just regular old human Eddie who just has entirely too much love for Steve to contain his emotions when someone else tries to make a move. I hope you like this little thing (2500 words!) I came up with and the other requests I've been putting out so far! - Mickala ❤️

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Robin convinced them she needed support.

Support Steve’s ass.

She was doing just fine from the moment they stepped in the door of this place.

So fine, in fact, she’d abandoned him and Eddie before they even got their first round of drinks brought to them.

Steve sat at the table with Eddie, awkwardly watching as people kept dancing and drinking and making out in dark corners of the bar.

He tried not to look too much, though. He didn’t want anyone to think he wasn’t comfortable here.

Quite the opposite, actually.

He’d been here a couple of times with just Robin: once before he figured out he was into men, once before he figured out he was into Eddie, and once more before this where he tried very hard to be into Eddie and failed.

But Eddie had insisted on coming when he overheard them talking about it, saying he hadn’t been here since high school and could use a night in a place where he could just be himself.

As if he wasn’t always obnoxiously (and beautifully) himself.

Robin had given Eddie a Look, but nodded in agreement, saying it would be awesome to have both her favorite guys there.

Which rubbed Steve a little wrong because he was her only favorite guy.

But he got over it because now Eddie was his only company, probably for the entire night going off of the way the girl with Robin was staring at her.

Ogling her.

Steve sighed. Eddie sighed.

They looked at each other and laughed.

“She do this to you every time?”

“No, usually we stick together. Must feel brave since you’re here with me.”

“Awww, she trusts me.”

Steve rolled his eyes, but there was probably more truth to that than he cared to admit.

Robin was often afraid to leave him alone, but she never hesitated if Eddie was with him.

He felt people staring at him, but he ignored it. He wasn’t here to find anyone and it would be silly to even try knowing that Eddie was right there.

But he’d be lying if he said it didn’t feel good to have people checking him out. He used to thrive on it in high school, feeling seen by anyone was better than being seen by no one.

Then, he hated it. He wanted to be invisible and he wanted everyone to focus on anyone and anything else in the room. He got his wish most of the time.

Until Eddie.

Eddie always included him in everything, pointing out when he was being quiet or moody, asking him questions to involve him in conversations, making sure he understood what Dustin was saying which was a challenge often.

He would touch his arm when he passed by him on the way to grab a drink from the kitchen or let their thighs touch on the couch on movie nights.

He let him come over after work on the nights he was too riled up, needing to let out some of his energy with a walk, but being too scared to do it alone.

So Eddie saw him, and made others see him, and he didn’t always love it, but he accepted it.

Tonight felt different, though.

All these eyes on him meant that people found him attractive, maybe wanted to dance with him or bring him home. If Eddie weren’t here, he’d maybe give it a shot with someone, try to find a way out of this hole he dug himself into with the first guy he’d admitted to himself he had feelings for.

But he also felt Eddie’s eyes on him, practically burning a hole through the side of his face every time he looked out at the crowd.

He felt heat crawling up his neck, to his cheeks.

Having all of Eddie’s attention was a lot for anyone, but especially Steve, who frequently thought about what it would be like to have Eddie’s attention on him in bed, or in the shower, or on the couch, or the pool, or-

“Did you want another drink?”

Steve looked down at the drink in his hand. He’d barely finished half of it, so he didn’t really know why Eddie was asking unless he just needed an excuse to get up.

“Um. No thanks. Probably should just have one anyway.”

“Sure.”

Eddie got up with his empty glass and started walking towards the bar.

Almost as soon as Eddie was gone, a taller man in a suit was taking his place at the table.

“Well, hi there, honey. Never seen you here before. First time?”

The guy was older, mid-thirties at least, and probably not the type of guy Steve would want to experiment with. But he was flirting, and he was kind of cute.

Steve could let himself enjoy a little casual flirting, right? It wouldn’t have to lead to anything.

“No, but I don’t come often.”

Steve rested his arms on the table, head in his hand. He grinned at the man, that Harrington charm practically beaming off of him.

“You could come tonight if you wanted to join me in the back.”

That was smooth. Sleazy, but smooth.

Steve didn’t drop his grin, but he shook his head.

“I don’t think I’m interested in just hooking up in the bathroom. Maybe you could buy me a drink?”

He had no intention of drinking another drink, but he figured this guy would lose interest if he showed he was more needy.

He was wrong.

The guy practically tripped over his feet to stand up from the booth.

“What would you like?”

“Oh. Uh.”

“He’s good, man. How about you go buy a drink for someone interested?”

Eddie came out of nowhere. Seriously, Steve had just seen him at the bar a few seconds before he spoke.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly as Eddie stood taller, more intimidating.

“Does it matter? I’m asking you nicely to go.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. I asked him.”

Eddie looked like he wanted to punch the guy, and Steve could admit to himself silently that he wanted to see it.

But he didn’t quite understand why Eddie was reacting like this; He’d assumed Eddie would want to try to hook up with someone while he was here and wouldn’t want to spend all his time with Steve.

“Steve? Do you wanna get a drink with this guy?”

No, he didn’t. He hadn’t even before Eddie came back. But a part of him had to wonder if maybe Eddie’s reaction was just to protect Steve from an older guy.

“I actually have to drive us back home so I probably shouldn’t have another drink. Thanks though.”

The guy mumbled something before turning and leaving, shaking his head as he walked to the bar.

Eddie slid into the booth next to him instead of across from him, letting most of their sides touch.

Steve couldn’t help the way his body naturally curled into Eddie’s, the comfort and safety of his body drawing Steve in without effort.

It should have ended there. Steve should have just let himself stay rested against Eddie’s side until Robin was done.

He did for a minute, but then his brain decided it needed explanations.

“What was wrong with that guy buying me a drink?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, his body tense against Steve’s.

“I just don’t think he was the right kind of person to be buying you a drink. You deserve better than that.”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Eddie didn’t know the guy, he could’ve been really nice. Other than the propositioning as his first line, he seemed like he was willing to do whatever Steve wanted to get more time with him.

“Who is the right kind of person then?”

“Someone younger. Maybe someone who doesn’t wear a damn suit to a gay bar. This is a casual place, there’s no need to flaunt your super important job. Plus, he could see your drink was still half full, he should’ve known you didn’t want one.”

“You offered me a drink before you got up.”

“That’s different.”

“How?”

“Because I’m not trying to get you drunk to sleep with me.”

Yeah, and wasn’t that a shame?

Steve dropped it. It wasn’t worth arguing with Eddie and he didn’t want to ruin any of the fun they could have.

“Should we dance?”

Eddie pulled away and looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“You want to dance with me?”

“Why not? We’ve been abandoned by Robin and the music isn’t bad.”

The music wasn’t bad to Steve. Eddie, however, was suffering through it as it was, and that was without having to dance to it.

“Pleeeeease?” Steve pouted at Eddie, eyes wide.

“You can’t make that face. It’s not fair.”

Steve kept making the face because being fair wasn’t something he cared about.

Eddie stood up, holding his hand out towards Steve to help him stand from the table.

Steve took it, ignoring the way he wanted to collapse against Eddie the second he stood up.

They made it to the dance floor, where a surprising amount of people were dancing in pairs and small groups, enjoying the fact that they could safely here.

Just when Steve turned to Eddie, the music changed to Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears.

Steve tried not to take it as a sign.

Eddie suddenly looked even more nervous, like he’d planned on maybe getting away with just jumping around to the music and now he couldn’t.

Just when Steve was going to give him an out, another guy, this one younger, but not as nice looking, wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder.

“How ‘bout we dance, sugar?”

The guy was drunk.

Steve wasn’t interested in ruining his favorite song by dancing with this drunk guy.

“He’s busy,” Eddie said firmly.

The guy backed up a bit, but still had his hand against Steve’s arm, resting there with enough of a grip to keep him upright.

“Sorry, you got somethin’ against me dancin’ with him?”

“Yeah, that’s why I just said he’s busy.”

Eddie pushed the guy’s hand off of Steve’s arm and put his own around Steve’s waist, pulling him against his side with no room for air or argument.

Steve tried to catch his breath, his heart skipping a beat and his lungs exhaling instead of inhaling.

“Maybe you should let him say if he’s busy or not.”

Steve was missing his favorite song to argue with a guy he wasn’t interested in when he could be dancing with Eddie.

Unacceptable.

“I’m dancing with him. Find someone else.”

The guy rolled his eyes and walked away.

Eddie turned and adjusted his arms so they rested on Steve’s hips.

Steve didn’t know what to do.

“Have you never slow danced before, King Steve?”

“Uh. Just once.”

“Oh? Let me help you then.”

Eddie took his hands in his own and gently placed them around his neck, pulling himself closer to Steve when his hands found his hips again.

“This okay?”

“Yeah.”

Steve wasn’t sure how this was happening, how this was real.

He just knew he didn’t want it to end.

He rested his head against Eddie’s shoulder, letting himself enjoy what would probably be his only chance at dancing with Eddie for the rest of his life.

“Why do you keep sending people away?”

Why was Steve determined to ruin tonight with his stupid fucking questions?

“What do you mean?”

“It just seems like you don’t wanna share.”

Eddie didn’t respond.

Steve looked up at him, but his face was hard to read in the darkness of the bar.

“Eds?”

“I don’t.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I don’t wanna share you. I like having you all to myself. Sorry if I’ve ruined your night.”

He started to pull away and Steve panicked. He couldn’t say that and then leave.

“What do you mean? You haven’t ruined anything. I wanted to spend it with you, anyways.”

Eddie was searching his eyes, looking for any sign of a lie.

“Steve, I-” The song changed, but it was another slow song. They kept slowly rocking and staring at each other. “I have to tell you something. You’re probably gonna hate me and wanna leave me here in Indy.”

Steve gulped. Could he possibly have feelings for Steve?

“I uh. I sent them away because I was jealous.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with it all the time! Sometimes I hide in the bathroom during movie nights so I can scream into the towels. Do you know how ridiculous that is? I’ve even been caught by Max before and she promised not to say anything if I gave her $20.”

“Oh.”

Oh? What the hell Steve, say something else.

“So, I get it if you hate me. I mean, I don’t know how this happened and I have no right to send potential dates away because I want to keep you to myself.”

Steve leaned up and placed a kiss on Eddie’s cheek.

“I’m glad you got jealous.”

Eddie was blushing now.

“What?”

“If you hadn’t been jealous, you probably wouldn’t have told me all this, would you?”

“No, I guess not.”

“You know what helps with jealousy?”

Eddie looked down at him, more confused than ever.

Steve didn’t wait for him to respond.

“Making out in the bathroom of a gay bar.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bugged out of his head as he registered what Steve was saying.

“You wanna do that? With me?”

“Well, I certainly don’t wanna do it with anyone else. And you won’t let me do it with anyone else. So maybe we should do it together.”

Eddie grabbed his wrist and wordlessly led them to the bathroom in the back of the bar.

It wasn’t empty, but the single stall was available and Eddie made it pretty clear what their intentions were when he dragged Steve right into it, closing and locking the door only a second before his hot lips were on Steve’s.

It was better than what Steve could have possibly imagined, but still not enough.

Now that he knew Eddie wanted him, he wanted everything Eddie could give him.

And Eddie seemed to want to give it all to him.

His lips were almost too much, but Steve couldn’t get enough.

They weren’t even in a bathroom anymore, floating high above the clouds with happiness and contentment.

Until a knock on the stall door nearly made Steve give himself another concussion.

“Dingus One and Dingus Two! Super happy for you both, but it’s time to go.”

“Shit.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s nearly one in the morning and we agreed to leave by midnight. I got distracted by boobies.”

“Don’t we all,” Steve said, as Eddie let out a loud laugh.

They opened the stall door and Robin sighed.

“Fix your hair. I’ll be at the car.”

Steve looked in the mirror as she left the bathroom, smirking at Eddie’s reflection behind him in a similar state of disarray.

“Okay?”

“So okay.”

“You owe me a dance.”

“What? Why? We danced!”

“But it got interrupted. And I wanna dance with you.”

Eddie sighed, but smiled fondly at Steve.

“I’ll dance with you whenever you want, sweetheart.”

[comicaurora]

Hello! I wanted to send my appreciation to you as a longtime fan of OSP and Auroura! I am an English Major with ADHD and your content always makes me inspired and my English Lit. Brain very happy with how good your storytelling is.

My question is what stories inspire you to write or make you want to sit down and tell a story? Your content makes me want to work on my projects, but my Adhd only last as long as I am not disturbed (i.e. need to eat or get up and move). You have always been upfront about your Adhd so my second question is how do you keep focused on your story and not burn out? (Talking as someone who is writing a novel as their thesis)

You have been a great inspiration over the years and someone I look up to as a storyteller! I wish you focus and luck! => 💝

Woo! Interesting questions!

When it comes to inspiration, I haven't really found a pattern for what works and what doesn't. The majority of the time, only new experiences/stories I haven't seen or read before work for me - rewatches and re-reads, while much more comfortable for my brain, don't tend to translate into creative inspiration for me - but it's not like a specific genre, or even a specific kind of relaxation, consistently work for me.

The way my brain works is a bit "no take only throw", as it were. I want to just sit down and make solid, steady progress in a predictable environment with a routine, but what I need is to try new things, go outside, take risks - because all those things give me new material to work with and refill the creative gas tank. When I'm stuck, I can't just hit the gas and punch through the block - I need to back up and try a new angle.

The good part of all this is that whatever engine that's running my subconscious is actually pretty good at signaling what it needs. The ADHD brain will be repelled by activities that aren't working for it and drawn to the things it needs at the time, whether that's creative energy or exercise or cleaning or doodling or listening to music or suddenly binge-watching a show that's not even all that great, and once it's got what it needs out of it - whatever that is - it'll be repelled again, either spitting out a sudden burst of creative energy or retreating to its den to chew on whatever it got out of the experience for a more slow-building reward. Little bursts of motivation and creativity pop up all throughout the day, and if you can pivot to the activity in question - or at least note down the idea you just had - you'll be able to harness that pretty nicely.

This "system" really only works for me because I have an extremely unstructured schedule and nobody relying on me to be consistent moment-to-moment. If I'm following the creative needs of my inscrutable Better Writer In The Back Of My Head, I can't be worrying about things like a consistent lunchtime or classes or a 9-to-5. All of my observations are caveat'd by the fact that I am ridiculously lucky to have the kind of freedom of movement and schedule that I can focus entirely on getting to know my brain better.

When it comes to staying focused on any one project, I've reluctantly concluded that the only way to win is not to play. Creativity needs time and diversity to recharge, and when you stall out in any given work session, it's usually because you're out of gas. This is why I maintain several projects in varying stages of "for my eyes only"-ness - a sketchbook, private writing projects, patreon doodles, music practice; even in the large-scale projects like the channel and the comic I have multiple angles of attack at any given time, where I can as needed switch between scripting, research, drawing frames, storyboarding more plot onto the end of the comic's current draft and lining/coloring/background-ing the finalized pages of the comic chapters earlier. This lets me maintain semi-steady progress on average, even if any one facet of the process is left by the wayside for potentially even weeks at a time.

If you're working on one writing project, one novel, I'd recommend giving yourself some time to do small-scale side-hobbies. It won't feel like they're helping, but they are.

I've started to think of inspiration rather similarly to the way I think about nutrition and digestion. It's a somewhat arcane process that, despite being a part of me, I don't exactly understand what's going on under the hood. If you eat only one thing, no matter what that one thing is, you're going to end up sick because you're lacking all sorts of niche micronutrients. If you parcel out a specific space of the only things you're allowed to eat, you might not get sick (as quickly) but you're likely going to become increasingly miserable as you think of the things you're not allowing yourself to try, or slowly build up highly specific forms of malnourishment by avoiding certain things entirely. But if you start listening to your body and try eating what it says it needs at any given time - oh, I could go for a rice bowl right now, oh I don't think I'm feeling something sugary today, man I could really go for some grapes - you're likely to hit a broadly good balance of health because you're hitting a broad range of things your body needs, even if you don't know all of their names or calorie counts, and your body is putting those resources to good use without your conscious input. Between my brain and my stomach, I only trust one of those to actually understand what a stomach needs to do its thing - and between me and my creative brain, most of the time it feels like I just work here.

I hope there was something helpful in all this!

[cosmos-dot-semicolon]

Act 1, and Leshy's relationships with the other Scrybes

There was a post on here a while ago about Leshy outright hating Magnificus more than P03, and one interesting observation was that he cuts the Wolf's stats, but boosts the Stoat's. I think there's more you can gather from Leshy designing around the other Scrybes, though:

GRIMORA:

Leshy seems to be the most amiable with Grimora. Yes, I think this probably comes a bit from the dev finding their aesthetics and gameplay styles easier to pair up, but I think's its also a little bit because she values fun quite strongly, which meshes well with his focus on lore: both things that aren't purely gameplay based unlike the weirder mechanics of the west-side Scrybes.

Similar to Leshy in act 2, none of her puzzles really cause any harm to her subordinates. It's meant to be some fun flavour plot for the player to engage their brains with before the battles. Honestly, the amount of times she says 'Marvelous!' alone should convince you of her priorities (outside of destroying the world!)

Leshy goes out of his way to design a totally new card for Grimora, which doesn't appear anywhere in act 2 or Kaycee's mod.

It's the only one with a sigil on it - it's a fragile card, but it requires more actual strategy than playing the non-sigil Wolf and Stoat.

One line of dialogue remarks that he wishes he had kept Grimora around, as she was at least a worthy challenger.

He says that the Stinkbug is weak, but other than that accepts you having it in your deck. Compare that to him absolutely hating the Stunted Wolf on sight.

If you look closely in the finale, Grimora has an insect crawling across the table in her campaign. I don't know if it's really a stinkbug, persay, but it's an interesting parallel to his choice of her species.

Someone has said before that there are notably more insect cards than any other species in act 1, which also plays into him being closer to her than the others.

Bones are literally the secondary currency in his campaign, whereas energy doesn't appear at all, and sigils are limited to a single map event.

stinkyyyy

MAGNIFICUS:

Between Leshy actively saying he hates Mag's card once you first get it (versus one line about the Stinkbug being weak), and him literally stabbing the guy's eye out, it's safe to say Leshy fucking hates this guy. I've seen different theories on this, between the clashing gameplay and Leshy being kinder to his subordinates, but the one I've thought was the most interesting was that Magnificus is arguably, the most powerful Scrybe.

He's the only one who does have a plan to get Leshy's takeover back to normal, and the other two Scrybes are desperate for you to find him in act 1 because of it. He has future vision, he writes letters to the others warning about potential takeovers, and you never see him scrounge for the OLD_DATA. correction in reblogs: i think it is mentioned that he has

I've always read Leshy's feelings towards Mag as jealousy, mixed with clashing ideologies. I don't think there's a single moment where the two agree on anything outside of act 3.

I don't have much to say on his card, gameplay-wise, as you get it very late. Honestly most of the Stunted Wolf's design is just foreshadowing that Leshy beat this guy up and stabbed out his eye, lmao, but it's still interesting to note that:

The Stunted Wolf is one of those cards that's a variant of another one (i.e. Wolf Cub/Wolf, Mantis God/Mantis), but it's notably the only one whose stats are worse than its predecessor.

At the same time, it only costs one blood, and it's the only 2-attack card to have that. Gameplay wise, this is to balance things out, but it hints towards Magnificus having been much more powerful in the past. Like it makes you ponder how fucking good it would be to start off with a one-blood 3-2 card.

Magnificus's only other gameplay feature in act 1 is the sacrificial alters (given his association with magic and sigils). These are fucking busted. God I wish I could have four sigils on a card in Kaycee's mod.

P03:

Leshy seems to not think very much of P03 (both in the sense of not acknowledging it and thinking it's not a good designer), but doesn't seem completely unwilling to work with him. I'd argue he's not really hostile towards P03, just very aggressively trying to push it into his own ideal of the world.

In Kaycee's mod, Leshy refers to him as a rival and not an enemy, which I think gives a good basis for interpreting how he views it. P03's breakup speech snapping at Leshy in act 2 is ultimately what gets him to question his intentions at all.

The mention that the stoat's suffering was real during the tutorial isn't really ever brought up again by Leshy. It's interesting to think about in hindsight, given that P03 being a robot means its the least likely to have experienced pain out of the four.

Combined with P03's remark that Leshy keeps him around just to suffer, and the later remark in act 2 that he thinks that it is noble to be a beast card, "even one as lowly as a stoat," this implies that Leshy's at the very least trying to get P03 used to his world, and almost hopes that he'll come to like it.

The unbuffed stoat is a really terrible card. All the 1-2 cards have some sort of gimmick to them to make them playable, but the normal stoat just doesn't at all. The buff to 1-3 is a gift from Leshy to P03, despite everything. It implies he at least thinks there's something that can be salvaged between them, in his own view.

And like. The buffed stoat is so so useful in act 1. The extra HP means it can take a hit from so many more cards and it's a solid foundation for basically any run.

The stoat's the only one of the talking cards without an animal family. Of course it is! Nature and technology are usually thematic opposites, especially compared to magic and death. P03 doesn't fit in here, but Leshy is still clearly trying to make it a foundational card in his campaign.

[simpingforthemm]

the garcia brothers

words: like 1.7k

summary: basically a similar scenario to the whole "Cole x Jackie x Alex" thingy but with u and the Garcia brothers

a/n: sorry for not posting on here in a while. I wrote this little thing to get into fanfic writing again and will get to the other requests soon <3 probably will make this a series if I feel inspired enough

You were sitting in the cafeteria with Lee, your best friend, poking at your food, absolutely not hungry after having seen that revolting documentary on the holocaust in history lesson.

“God, I wish I could erase the last 90 minutes out of my memory so I could at least keep some of this food down and not starve for the rest of the day”, you groaned, shoving a fry in your mouth.

“Same”, Lee sighed. “That Nazi shit is seriously messed up. Honestly, I think I heard Olivia sobbing in the back row or something when the teacher named the number of the children murdered in the second world war.”

You raised your eyebrows. "Damn. Understandable though. It's so inhumane.”

Lee nodded. You noticed someone sitting down next to you and putting their arm around your shoulder. “What are we talking about guys?”, an all too familiar voice asked. Isaac Garcia, the brother of your best friend, who you shared a lot of your classes with, including history. “Just the pleasantries of that history lesson”, you said as he snatched some of your fries.

“I’m amazed at your ability to still eat after that horrifying documentary.”, you admitted, watching as he stuffed his mouth with the fried potato sticks, visibly hungry, his arm still securely around you. You didn't mind sharing your food and you often did so with Isaac. He would offer you gum when he had a pack, you would bring a second fork for him when you got lunch and you almost always shared your energy drinks and snacks. You didn't know the particular reason for why you both did this except for that the two of you loved food and that you liked eating in class / eating snacks so you could focus better.

“That's only one of my many talents, dear miss Y/L/N”, he said, smirking at you and giving you a little wink. “Besides, I love fries.”

You just rolled your eyes a little, knowing that Isaac basically had every girl that crossed his path swooning over him and he even flirted with you, his brother's girl best friend. Yeah, you shared your food and were pretty friendly with each other but you still were kind of annoyed about how he was such a ladies' man.

“Sure”, you just said, freeing yourself from his arm, catching Isaac frowning in the corner of your eye.

“Okay Isaac, how ‘bout you leave me and my best friend alone and go mind your business with all of those cheerleaders waiting on you.”, Lee said, pointing over to a table overcrowded with a bunch of girls from the cheerleading squad, some of them looking over to your table, probably wondering what was keeping Isaac there.

Lee seemed overly annoyed with his brother. Chill Lee, you thought to yourself. You actually kinda liked Isaac (not that you’d ever tell Lee that) and you didn't get why your best friend was acting all hostile. Sure, Isaac was annoying at times but he didn't exaggerate it. But of course, you were on your best friend’s side. “No need to get possessive, I’m already going”, he said, getting up from his chair.

He frowned as he noticed your sort of tense expression.“You seem tense, everything all right?”, he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. He was right, you had been tense. Exam stress, pressure to succeed, getting good grades and then your parents fighting. You were struggling. But Isaac didn't have to know that. “Okay Isaac, just go”, Lee groaned before you could answer the other Garcia's question.

“Already going, jeez bro. See you later, Y/N.”, he smirked, ruffling your hair. Ugh.

Relieved about him going back to his own table and Lee being able to go back to his normal self, you leaned back into your chair. “I’m so sorry about my brother Y/N”, Lee apologized, rolling his eyes. “I know he can be a lot sometimes.”

“It's fine”, you assured him, not knowing why he was always so cold and hostile whenever the three of you were together. When you watched Lee and Isaac hanging out together, without you, everything seemed just fine and they were laughing and having fun together, like normal brothers. This was the same for when you and Lee hung out just the two of you, everything seemed completely normal and fine. But when it was you, Lee and Isaac, he acted so strange. He was bitchy and rude to his brother, usually without reason. He always acted like Isaac was this horrible person that you couldn't be associated with. You thought that maybe he couldn't stand the thought of you and Isaac being friends? Maybe he hated how physical Isaac could be? You didn't know, but you were determined to find out.

After school, you and Lee decided to hang out and get ice cream. A lot of people thought that you and Lee might be a couple since the two of you were so close. It was true, you liked Lee a lot. Maybe you had had a crush on him for a little while when the two of you first met. But that was a long time ago and the two of you were now simply best friends. You thought so at least. Still, you couldn't help thinking he was cute when he attempted to speak French in class (which he surprisingly was horrible at) or when he geeked out about some new skateboarding equipment or tricks he wanted to try. Of course, you would never tell him that.

“Y/N, can I ask you something?”, Lee suddenly blurted out. The two of you were standing in line at the ice cream shop, waiting for your turn. You were slightly standing on your tip-toes, trying to get a look on all the flavors available so you could already decide on what you wanted beforehand.

“Yeah, sure. What is it?”, you said casually, standing normally again and turning to look at him.

Lee looked down at his shoes, seemingly embarrassed. You frowned, didn't he know he could ask you anything? You were now getting impatient and nervous. Why was he stalling?

“Oh, come on, Lee. You're driving me crazy. Spit it out!”

“Do you like Isaac?”

Your eyes widened and you gulped. So much for obvious. But you didn't like him. At least not like Lee probably meant in this moment. Okay, maybe you thought he was hot and funny, but he was obnoxious. He was always bothering you, in class, outside of class, at the Walters’ House. Just last week, he threw you in the pool, then at a party he randomly asked you if you wanted to play beer pong with him. With you, out of all people? You, the unpopular nerd. Then there were other incidents like when your grade was called to the assembly hall for some informative presentation on future college opportunities and Isaac just randomly sat down next to you. And besides all that weirdness from his side, he made your best friend in the whole world angry and tense. You didn't like that.

You decided to go for the shocked and surprised answer. “What! Lee! Why would you think that??”

“I don't know”, he shrugged, his expression blank. “You just always seem to laugh more when he's around and you don't really seem to mind whenever he flirts with you.”

“Flirts with me? Lee, I don't know what you're talking abou-”

“Oh please Y/N”, Lee scoffed. “Don't act like you're blind. He always flirts with you. Just today in the cafeteria, he put his arm around you. Do you know how weird that is for me? Jesus, he's my brother, Y/N.” Lee looked disgusted as he turned away from you. You didn't know his feelings were this intense.

“Lee, of course I don't like him. But you know how Isaac is, he’s always flirting with every girl that's in his eyesight. I don't think he's taken special interest in me. And besides, we wouldn't even fit together, you know how different we are.”

That seemed to calm Lee down as his expression softened and he sighed, nodding.

"Sorry for overreacting. You're right."

You didn't know why he was so against you even slightly taking an interest in his brother and why he was so disgusted at even the idea of you getting closer to him. But you figured the two of you weren't really in a position to talk about that.

Later that day, you were sitting on your bed, listening to music and doing homework when your phone made that vibrating sound to tell you you had a new message. You frowned slightly, checking who would text you at this time. It certainly wouldn't be Lee, as right now he’d probably be outside with his cousins, teaching Parker how to skateboard or something. Instead it was an unknown number.

The message just said: “hi y/n”.

You texted back pretty quickly out of curiosity. "Who's this?”

Another message appeared within seconds, making your heart drop. “Isaac. I got your number from Jackie, hope that's ok”

Jesus, why would he be texting you? This was the last thing you needed rn. And now you seriously didn't know what to text back.

“Okaay, why did you ask for my number tho”, you typed.

“idk cuz I think ur cool”

Fuck. Why’d he say something like that?

“okay.. I don't think lee doesn't like us talking tho"

You were panicky now. Lee definitely couldn't find out about this. He'd be so mad.

“he needs to chill out”

Was he seriously saying this rn? Didn't he know Lee had no chill whenever it came to you?

You were staring at your phone for a while, waiting for him to say something else, but when he didn't, you just typed back:

“srry but did you want anything else? I got homework to do”

“we should hang out outside of class sometime”

“we really shouldn't”, you texted back, even though you did kind of want to. But you couldn't. Not when Lee was so against the idea of you being closer to his brother. You couldn't do that to your best friend.

“Come onn y/n just for like an hour or so. pretty plsss”

He kept spamming you with messages the next minutes which really annoyed you so just to shut him up you replied: “fine but istg if lee finds out you’re done for”

“yes ma’am 🧎‍♂️”

God. What had you gotten yourself into??

[thebroccolination]

The J&A group NEWS is one of the most lore-packed music groups I’ve ever followed and I wish I had the energy to make an entire video essay about them. They started with nine members in 2003 and immediately lost a member before they formally debuted. He later became the fucking front man of ONE OK ROCK (yes, Taka, formerly known as Mori while he was with NEWS for those precious six minutes). Then they lost two more members shortly afterward when one got busted for underage drinking and kicking a cop car, and the other one for underage smoking. Then the group was suspended because what the fuck y’all get it together. A few years later, after their comeback as six, the two most popular members quit at the same time essentially because they’d never actually wanted to be there in the first place. One of the two had actually been debuted in TWO GROUPS because J&A was quirky like that, and because he’d always had an obvious preference for the other one, no one was too upset with him. That left the remaining FOUR in a bizarre limbo because while two of them could sing, the other two were basically The Other Two (don’t get mad I was half-seriously parasocially in love with one of them so I can say it) and a ton of the higher-ups at J&A thought of them as “a strawberry shortcake without the strawberries”—A THING ONE OF THEM OVERHEARD SOMEONE SAY ABOUT THEM. So they pulled off a comeback as four, which was actually sort of perfect because NEWS has four letters, so it introduced a fun new design scheme. Three kept their original member colors, but the oldest took over the Leader position and changed from orange to purple, which was sweet in its own way because he didn’t want to take away red, the color of their original Leader (the popular one who basically left to focus on a solo career and acting). The four of them go strong for several years, putting out some of the best music in J&A, and putting on some of the best concerts I’ve ever been to, and the general reception is, “They were good before but this configuration fits better—and they all want to be here!” There’s also some fun stuff in there, like how one of The Other Two feels the sting of being half of The Other Two so he runs with the smart thing he has going for him and writes a novel, and a LOT of people are like, “Hey, it kind of seems like the douchebag character in your book resembles your former Leader,” and he’s like, “nOOOOOO definitely a coincidence ha ha ha.” (Yes he’s the one I was sort-of committed to spiritually but it wasn’t a big deal I’m over it ha ha ha.) THEN, the wildest shit ever happens: in spite of their very serious pact as four to stay together and spare each other the continued trauma of shedding members, their best vocalist decides, “I’m bored I’m gonna go,” and skips off without remorse. He’s probably a controversial figure in some circles but the way I see it, if you followed NEWS for more than ten minutes you knew this dude had no loyalties stronger than his loyalty to himself and expecting anything else from him was a fool’s errand. Basically, he was always gonna dip, it was just a matter of when. He also wrote a gossipy tell-all book that made casualties of the former members in such a bitchy fashion he’s honestly iconic for airing his pettiness after years of pretending he forgave them for the group’s image. Like remember the member who left because he was in two groups and I said no one really held it against him? Our gossiping queen basically called him a coward and said he never would’ve left if the Leader hadn’t left first, and we were all like, “I mean, yeah, we figured he left because the timing was convenient, but ooooooh.” And then I stopped following them because my favorite duo Tackey & Tsubasa disbanded and my heart wasn’t in following J&A groups anymore, but NEWS is still making music in 2024 and I’m genuinely really happy for the three left because they’ve gotta be tired but at least they have each other. /closing credits

[quibbs]

if its ok to ask do you have any recommendations, of like, songs, movies, tv shows, books, comics, webcomics,,,, like. literally anything of the sort. and similarly, if its ok to ask, what inspired soil that binds us?

ok sorry this took me so long to answer! i just kept thinking about it instead of writing about it. a problem that is common for me, lol. anyway i think pieces of media that tend to have the strongest effect on me tend to be bittersweer, have a particular focus on interconnectivity between everyone involved, and are character focused/character dynamic focused. that's what tends to wring the most inspiration and joy out of me. i also really love pieces of media that are bad but are made with so much sincerity and passion that it does NOT matter to me how bad it is- i also find those pieces of art UNFATHOMBLY inspiring.

so: soil that binds us i think spiritually had 4 influences that shines above the rest.

-NARUTO [sincere, long form, teen-oriented, shonen energy, the power of love and friendship will save us, action scenes and BLOOD, the fun matters most for a lot of it],

-HOMESTUCK [exceedingly complicated, irreverent, balancing vulnerable and invulnerable in a clinically insane way, emphasis on the protagonists psyche, interconnectivity as a priority, kind of expecting you to get lost along the way, the fun matters most]

-THE LAST OF US [a game that inspires literally everything I will ever do forever, inspired me to be more vulnerable, character driven, post-apocalyptic, finding light and tenderness whilst trapped in HELL through your relationships with others, excels in the feeling of bittersweet, etc]

-anddd DRAGON AGE [another game that literally inspires everything i do, interconnectivity, character focused/character dynamic focused, sincere, good balance of gritty and silly, the first thing i turn to to analyze characters for because none of those characters have ever left my head after 15 years .]

those are my biggest media inspirations for soil that binds us but, especially as a teenager, music shaped what directions i took the characters like playdough. a lot of what defined my characters came from this playlist as i was writing them. i always started with the feeling first (which songs are good at) and then expounded upon the feeling i found in the song in written form. highly reccomend it!!! music is so inspiring and i always turn to it when i'm stuck.

as for tv shows/movies- despite the fact that he is (rightfully) extremely clowned on now, a lot of joss whedon works shaped my skull. buffy the vampire slayer and it's less good spin-off show angel DO live in my brain forever and in a special little hall of it's own. i'm pretty sure it inspired a lot of dragon age, too, so there you go.

i wish i had more comics/books to recommend you, but i actually don't read a lot of them these days!!! which is ironic, i know. i just keep losing time. I think maybe the closest written thing i can think of that is similar to my comic is the locked tomb trilogy- and that was a series that was ALSO heavily inspired by homestuck. same with undertale. so maybe look out for anything homestuck seems to have inadvertently given birth to!! i wish you luck on your hunt for comics that scratch the itch for you.... i know they're out there, and if they're not, give it a few years haha. homestucks reach is very far. GOOD LUCK!

[ticklishbeans4]

2D Beings Deserve Tickles To!

I've been wanting to write something with Prismo for awhile given all the art that's been floating around! And how could I not add Finn and Jake in there?

Jake and Finn were laying on the floor of Prismo’s cube, chilling out as they watched some other dimension stuff with the comic being. This had become a pretty common occurrence with the three, Prismo seemed to enjoy the company, and the two brothers were more than happy to provide it. Plus, it was super cool to see other versions of themselves.

“Oh this ones pretty cool!” Prismo gushed, “This one was made when someone wished that they could just live as a child forever. So I made a kid world! Aren’t they cute?”

“Awwww! Look at little Finn!” Jake cooed, “I forgot how cute you were!”

“Are you kidding? Look at puppy you!” Fin laughed, “You’re so tiny!”

“Not as cute as you!” Jake laughed, jumping on Finn and starting a wrestling match between the brothers.

Prismo watched fondly, this happened a lot when they came over, but it never stopped being amusing to see. It kinda made him wish he had a sibling, someone he could hangout with and talk to. A built in best friend, like Finn and Jake.

He was brought out of his thoughts by a sudden shriek, followed by a burst of laughter from Finn. Looking over, his eyes widened and he quickly looked away, if he could blush, he was sure he’d be red as Golb. Jake was tickling Finn.

Now Prismo was no stranger to the concept of tickling. Watching hundreds of universes with hundreds of people, he’d seen plenty of tickling. It always had a… weird effect on him. It made his guts feel twisty and fluttery, he couldn’t always look at it, but sometimes he couldn’t look away, sometimes he’d even replay those moments over and over. He didn’t really get why he felt like this, the only other time he felt like this was around Jake but… it was different. He knew that without a shadow of a doubt.

“HELP!” Finn cried, reaching a hand out to Prismo before he shot it back down when Jake scribbled into his underarm.

Prismo just tried to focus on the screen, not able to look directly at the scene. He wished he knew why he felt this way about such an innocent practice. He’d watched parents tickling their kids, siblings getting into tickle fights, heck! He’d seen babies in the baby dimension tickle each other! So it was just an innocent, fun, silly thing! Sure he knew it could be used in… other ways, but those didn’t make him feel all fluttery and twisty.

“Prismo, you good?” Jake asked, apparently having given Finn mercy.

“Oh! Uh, yeah! Yeah I’m good! Totally good! So good actually! Ha! Why do you ask?” he said nervously, moving from wall to wall with his jittery energy.

Finna sat up, rubbing his belly, “Dude, are you sure? You’re acting all weird.”

“Nope! I’m dandy as candy!” he laughed, “Hey! Let me show you the dimension where everyone is a stuffed animal!”

“Prismo…” Jake said, his voice sending shivers up Prismos back. “Are you ticklish?”

“Am I…” he thought for a second, was he ticklish? “I… huh, I don’t know. No one’s ever tried.”

“What?” the pair cried, immediately jumping to their feet.

“You’ve never been tickled?” Jake cried, “Dude it’s like, the best! How have you never been tickled!?”

Prismo shrugged, “Well, who’s gonna do that to the wish master? No one really does that kind of thing around here, ya know?”

The two looked aghast, which was a little funny. Till their faces changed with a single shared look, devious smiles spread across their faces.

Jake casually cracked his fingers, “Well… I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

Finn smirked, “I think it’ll be fun to be the first ones to try.”

Prismo felt that twisty fluttery feeling in full force. He didn’t know if he should run, or just let it happen. He did want it to happen, but also every part of him was saying to run. “I- uh- w-well!”

Jake chuckled as he stalked closer to the 2D being, “Don’t worry Prismo, we’ll be nice!” “For the most part.” Finn giggled, a distinctly evil sound to Prismo.

“N-now guys! Let's just chill! I-I mean, we can just sit back and watch some other dimensions and eat cheese crackers!” he rambled, waving his hands around animatedly.

Well it seemed the pair weren’t swayed by his incredible argument, as they pounced, scribbling at where his belly was on the floor. And Prismo was absolutely not prepared for the feeling. It was like… Glob he didn’t even know! He’d never felt anything like this! It was light, but scratchy, but it made him feel all tingly and light and weird!

Poor Prismo didn’t stand a chance against the feeling, especially since he’d never experienced it before. Immediately he burst into giggles, and shot himself over to the other wall. There was a pause, a moment where they all just looked at each other…

“Get ‘im!” Jake cried, and the two launched themselves at Prismo again. Prismo wasn’t fast enough to get away as they scribbled at him again. Finn targeted his belly, but Jake decided to try other spots. He stretched his limbs to scratch at his underarms and his neck.

Primso shrieked, a weird sound coming from him in his opinion, and fell into cackling laughter. He didn’t run this time, just flapped his hands and wiggled around in the room. Random things began appearing in the room as well, a feather duster, a pig, flowers, little glowy swirls, stars, and moons appearing on the walls. “Jake! Dude! His powers are goin bananers!” Finn laughed, picking up the feather duster and brushing it against Prismo’s side, making him screech and jerk away.

“NOHOHOHOHO! AHAHAHAHAAHAH! STAHAHAHAHAP!” he shrieked, not at all wanting it to stop. This was more fun than any wish granting, any dimension watching, it was even more fun than pickle making!

“Aw, you’re fine!” Jake teased, “You’re barely trying to get away! I bet you like it!”

“NOOOOHOHOOHO!” he lied, laughing wildly as the pair seemed to attack from all angles. They left practically no spot untickled, it was maddening, but also some of the most fun he’d had in his life! After what felt like an eternity, but also somehow didn’t last nearly long enough, Prismo had had enough. He zoomed just outside of the room, giggling as he caught his breath. “Prismo!” Jake called, “Where’d you go? Are you ok? We didn’t go too far did we?”

“No!” he called back, “I just… I needed a breather!” “We won’t tickle you again!” Finn shouted out, “You can come back!”

“...You won’t make fun of me right?” he asked, “Like, you promise?”

“We promise dude.” Finn answered.

“And we don’t break promises.” Jake added.

Prismo took a deep breath and came back in, looking flustered. “So… I guess that… happened.” “Yeah man! It was awesome!” Jake grinned, patting Prismo’s shoulder. “You took it like a champ! I doubt Finn could last that long with two tickle monsters!”

“I totally could!” the teen protested.

Jake smiled wickedly, “Oh yeah? Prismo, wanna help me out?”

Prismo grinned, moving closer to the kid, “I’m not usually one for revenge plots, but…”

Finn seemed to realize how bad he donked up. “Uh- h-hey now! Let’s talk about this!”

But there was no time to talk, as Jake jumped on his brother and pinned him down. Prismo only paused for a moment, he’d never actually tried to tickle someone, he’d only watched it. But… it couldn’t be that hard! He got his hands onto Finn’s knees, a spot he’d seen Jake tickle him, and began wiggling his fingers. Finn let out a hilariously high pitched scream before he fell into a fit of laughter. “NAAHAHAHAHA! PRISMOHOHOHO!” “What? I’m not doing anything!” he laughed, moving his wiggly fingers to the softer underside of his knees, making Finn scream again.

“Dang son! You’re a natural!” Jake praised, sending butterflies fluttering in Prismo’s belly.

“Awww, gee, thanks Jake.” he smiled sheepishly.

Jake grinned, before he joined in the wrecking, squeezing at Finn’s ribs, sending the boy kicking and shrieking.

“STAHAHHAHAAHAP FLIHIHIHIHRTING!” Finn cackled, which made Prismo splutter, before digging punishingly into the backs of his knees, getting a scream from the teen.

“We’re not flirting! Shut up!” There was no flirting! Jake was just a good friend! Nothing more! Besides, he had Lady…

Jake blew a raspberry on Finn’s belly, getting a loud squeal in return. “I’ll teach you not to make Prismo uncomfortable!”

Prismo laughed, “My hero!”

Jake flexed his arms, stretching them to look like muscles, which made Prismo snort as he giggled at him. Sadly this also distracted the pair from Finn, who promptly tackled Jake and scribbled into his belly. The poor dog immediately burst into bright laughter, his leg adorably kicking at the same time.

“NAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NO FAIR!” he cried, snorting as Finn attacked. Finn just grinned evilly and replied, “Too bad!”

Prismo hesitated for a second, but when Finn nodded for him to join, he decided to just go for it! He got his hands behind Jakes ears and began scribbling, making Jake bark in shock before falling into loud laughter.

“PRISMOHOHOHOHO! YOU TRAHAHAHAITOR!” the dog shrieked, kicking his leg and laughing loudly.

Prismo laughed at his friend, “All’s fair in love and war!”

“Especially tickle wars!” Finn agreed.

“YOU WAHAHANT A WAHAHAR!?” Jake cried, before stretching himself away from the pair and quickly attacking their bellies. “I’ll show you a war!”

Prismo shrieked with Finn as his friend tickled them to pieces. He wasn’t complaining though, this was fun! Probably the most fun he’d had in… forever! He never wanted it to end! He was definitely adding some tickle scenes in Fionna and Cake! And well… he’d probably ask Finn and Jake to come by a lot more often.