#also they can’t just forget about Layla too???

[dis-aster9255]

If moon knight does appear in the MCU again but only as a side character and gets NO stand alone movie/season 2,

I will be finding the marvel executives and I will commit crimes

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Chapter 2 - Bruises | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 10.6k

Trent slumped down next to Noah, running a hand over his hair, his thoughts all over the place. It had been hard enough leaving you upstairs, seeing you so vulnerable, so close. Noah nudged him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Mate, seriously—what is the deal with you two?” Noah asked, raising an eyebrow. “She’s putty in your hands, and you’re practically breathing down her neck. Thought you’d snap eventually but you just keep dragging it out.” Trent let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the couch. 

“I don’t even know, mate. I can’t keep this up. Every time I’m around her lately, it feels impossible to just… be her friend.” He shook his head. “But Jack would kill me, you know that.” Noah burst into laughter, shaking his head. 

“Trenty, it’s been years of this. You’re acting like this tension is new! This is, hands down, the longest and most intense case of foreplay I’ve ever seen. Even Jack’s gotta know by now.” Noah smirked. Trent rubbed the back of his neck, a guilty grin breaking through. 

“Yeah, but it’s different now. She’s… she’s not just Jack’s sister anymore. It’s like she’s looking at me the same way I look at her.”  He groaned and then he let out a shaky breath, feeling exposed for the first time. “And tonight—I feel like she’s slipping, no? Just hard to leave her room after all that. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” Noah leaned in, eyes glinting with amusement. “Mateeee.” Trent groaned once more for good measure. 

“Bro, you gotta sort this. You can’t go on like this forever.” He clapped Trent on the shoulder. Trent chuckled, a little embarrassed but unable to deny how much he wanted you. 

“I know. But I’m just trying to play it smart, you know? I don’t want to hurt her but Jack’s my boy.” Noah raised an eyebrow, laughing harder. 

“Play it smart? Just try not to trip over yourself sneaking back upstairs.” He teased. With one last laugh, Trent let himself sink into his thoughts of you, wondering how much longer he could hold himself back.

Another night of drinking to forget came. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest method, but it was maybe the most fun. The club was packed, pulsing with the beat of the music and the energy of people letting loose on a Saturday night. You had dragged Layla along with you to have a fun night out, a chance to unwind and forget about all the stress from the past week. You were in good spirits, laughing and dancing with Layla, letting the music take over. But everything shifted when you spotted him—your sort of ex, a footballer for Manchester United, Josh. If playing for that club wasn’t enough of a reason for you to hate him, he also was just an awful person.  He was standing by the bar, surrounded by his friends, looking as arrogant as ever. You tried to ignore him, but it was clear he had seen you too. A smirk tugged at his lips as he pushed through the crowd, heading straight for you.

“YN!” he called out over the music, a mocking tone in his voice. “Long time no see.” You forced a polite smile, not wanting to cause a scene but you knew this was being done to be rude.

 “Hey,” you replied shortly, hoping he’d get the hint and move on. But he didn’t.

“What’s the matter? Not happy to see me?” he jeered, leaning in closer than necessary. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, could see the malice in his eyes.

“I’m just here to have a good time with Layla,” you said, trying to keep your tone even. “I’d rather not—” But he cut you off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be like that. You were always such a good girl, Y/N. Too good for the likes of me, right? Or maybe you’re just playing hard to get?” He sang in an obnoxious tone. You’d ‘split’ because you didn’t like each other enough. It was sex and that was about it. Josh particularly didn’t like that no matter what, you’d never look at him the way you looked at Trent and so he blamed the split on you. Despite him ending it, it was your wrong doing apparently.  

“She doesn’t want to talk to you, yeah? Fuck off.” Layla stepped in, sensing the tension. He sneered at Layla before turning his attention back to you. 

“What’s the matter, YN? Still pining after Alexander-Arnold? Aye just get it through that pretty little head, he’s never going to want you.” The words stung, sharper than you expected. You rolled your eyes and he didn’t take kindly to that. Even though you didn’t care for him anymore, his cruelness cut deep. Tears welled up in your eyes despite yourself.  Josh had never been the kind to hold back, not even in public. You had seen glimpses of his temper before, but tonight, it felt different—meaner, more deliberate. His words were mocking as his fingers gripped your arm with a force that made your skin sting, and as he leaned in closer, his words grew more venomous.  "What, are you going to cry now?" he spat, tightening his hold on you. His grip was firm, biting into your flesh with enough pressure to bruise. You winced, trying to twist free, but he only tightened his grip, his nails digging into your skin. He was holding you close to him, he was angry in a possessive way. You could feel the bruise forming under his touch, a dark mark that would remind you of this night long after it was over. You hated how he could make you feel so small, how he could strip away every ounce of confidence with just a few words and a harsh grip.

“Please just stop,” you snapped, your voice breaking. You tried to yank your arm away again, but he only pulled you closer, his lips curling into a cruel smile. He pulled you away from everyone so it was just the two of you. You felt a wave of shame, not just for the scene he was causing but for yourself—for letting him do this to you, for putting up with it, for not having the strength to push him away once and for all. Layla didn’t know what to do. So often you had said it was fine with him but right now it felt anything but.  You didn’t know why you even put up with him, why you had let him into your life at all. He had always been like this—aggressive, dominating, possessive,always needing to control every situation, even when you were out in public. It was as if he thrived on belittling you, on reminding you of every perceived flaw, every mistake you’d made.  He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

“You’ll be nothing without me, know that?” he hissed, his grip tightening painfully. You flinched, the pain radiating up your arm. “You’ll always be nothing.” The tears blurred your vision, and you hated yourself for letting him see you cry. You hated how he still had this power over you, how he could reduce you to this—a sobbing, broken mess in the middle of a crowded club. You hated how he could strip you of your dignity with just a few cruel words and a tight grip on your arm. Somewhere in the haze of your thoughts, you found the strength to pull away. You jerked your arm back with a sudden burst of energy, managing to break free from his grasp. You stumbled back, cradling your bruised arm against your chest, the sting of the fresh bruise radiating through your skin. You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears, your chest heaving with a mix of anger, hurt, and frustration.

“I’m done. We’re done” you choked out, the words barely more than a whisper. “I get it. Just let it go, okay?” You whimpered. He just laughed, a dark, hollow sound that sent a chill down your spine. 

“You’ll be back, babe” he called after you as you tried to leave, his voice dripping with arrogance. “You always come back.”  You hated that you had gone back to him before, that you had let yourself get tangled up in his web of anger and possessiveness. The sex had been good—at least, that's what you told yourself. But he had cheated on you more times than you could count, though you were never really sure if it counted as cheating. Your relationship had always been undefined, a messy entanglement of emotions and misunderstandings. He was hypocritical, a storm ready to explode any time he saw you so much as smile at another man. And yet, there you were, always caught in the crossfire of his jealousy and rage. It didn’t matter what he did, his whole goal was to just have complete control over you and Trent threw a wrench in that. He especially hated Trent. It wasn't just because they played for rival clubs, though that was part of it. It was deeper than football. He saw the way your eyes lingered on Trent, the way your face softened when you spoke his name. He knew there was something there, a connection that went beyond friendly banter or casual attraction. Trent was everything he was not—calm, kind, successful in a way that made others admire rather than fear him. And you—God, he could see it—your feelings for Trent were written all over your face, in the way you laughed at his jokes, in the way you always seemed to find yourself at his side. He resented Trent for being everything he wasn’t and for being the object of your affections. You ootd to keep Josh’s behavior hidden from your brother, somehow managing to mask how fucked up it all was. Jack didn't know how deep your ex’s temper ran or how controlling he could be. But if he knew.. If Jack knew or even his friends knew but probably especially Trent knew… all hell would break loose.  So you’d learned how to swallow back the stories, pretending that everything was fine. 

“Can you just leave me alone,” you managed to say, your voice breaking. 

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” He leaned in, his voice a harsh whisper. “Does your brother know you slut yourself out for his best friend? What’s your dad think of that... Being a whore for the boys your brother trusts most… and your mum.. Oh well.. You wouldn’t know what she thinks of her slutty little daughter.” That was the last straw. You hated that you even trusted him enough that he had that bit of information about your life. You felt the tears spill over, and you turned and bolted, pushing your way through the crowd. You needed to get away, to breathe, to clear your head. Your heart was pounding, and your vision blurred with tears. You stumbled trying to get to the back hallway of the club, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Layla had seen enough. 

“Fuck you!” Layla screamed rushing over but when she turned to try to follow after you, you were lost in the crowds. Unbeknownst to you, Trent had been at the club too, celebrating with a few of his teammates. He had seen you running, and had noticed the distress on your face. Without a second thought, he followed you, his concern outweighing any questions about why you were there or what had happened. The flashing lights of the club blurred around you, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to spin faster with each passing second. The pounding bass reverberated through your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart. You felt dizzy, your thoughts swirling like the flickering neon signs above. The laughter and shouts of the crowd melted into a distant, muddled hum as your vision began to swim. Tears streaked your cheeks, hot and unchecked, as you stumbled through the throngs of people. The room felt like it was closing in on you, walls shrinking as the faces around you became distorted, like a nightmare you couldn’t escape. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps, each one catching in your throat as you fought the rising tide of panic.

You could barely think straight, your mind a haze of confusion and pain. Everything felt wrong—your body, the people around you, the pounding music that seemed to pulse through your veins. You wanted to escape, to find a place where you could breathe again, but everywhere you turned, there were people, faces, eyes. It was too much, all of it pressing down on you, squeezing your chest until you thought you might break. Your legs felt heavy, your steps unsteady as if the ground were shifting beneath your feet. You pushed through the crowd, desperate for air, for space, for anything but this suffocating chaos. Your tears blurred your vision, and you wiped at her eyes, her hand trembling. Then, through the haze, you felt it—strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you close. At first, you panicked, thinking it was someone else, another stranger trying to touch you, but then you caught a familiar scent, a mix of cologne and something uniquely comforting.

Trent.

Your body sagged with relief, your knees nearly buckling beneath you as you collapsed against his chest. His arms were solid and warm, encircling you like a protective barrier against the chaos of the club. You felt his hand on the back of your head, gently cradling you as he whispered soothing words you could barely hear over the music. Then for the first time, Trent saw a bruise forming on your arm. His face was a mask of concern, his eyes darkening with anger as he took in the sight of you, your arm marked with the telltale signs of aggression. 

"Y/N," he whispered, stepping back before reaching out to gently lift your arm, his touch featherlight but steady. He turned it over, revealing the bruises that had already started to bloom in shades of purple and blue. His jaw clenched, and his grip tightened just enough for you to feel his rage simmering beneath the surface. "Who did this to you?" You tried to pull away, tried to hide the evidence of your shame and pain, but Trent wouldn't let go. It was so obvious it came from someone grubbing you too tight, being too rough in a way no one wanted. His hand held yours firmly, his thumb brushing against your skin as if he could erase the marks with a touch. 

"Please," you muttered, your voice breaking, "stop." you weakly begged.

"Y/N…" he insisted, his voice low and steady, but with an edge that made it clear he wasn't going to let this go. "Who…" He snapped demandingly. Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Trent's face hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in you attempting to tell him what just happened but he couldn’t focus on anything but how sad you looked, how broken. He pulled you closer, wrapping you in his arms as if to shield you from the world, from the pain, from everything that had ever hurt you. In that moment, you felt safe for the first time in what seemed like forever. His arms were your refuge, his strength your solace. Trent's blood boiled with a fury he rarely felt, his hands shaking with the need to do something—anything—to make Josh, who he knew it had to have been, pay for what he'd done. But then he saw your tear-streaked face, your lips trembling as you tried to hold back sobs, and all that rage took a back seat. His anger didn't matter right now; you mattered. Your body shuddered with each sob, and Trent felt a pang of helplessness in his chest. He wanted to tell you everything would be alright, that he'd take care of everything. He wanted to promise that no one would ever hurt you again. But he knew that words wouldn’t be enough, not now. So, he just held you tighter, letting you cry into his shirt, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. “Hey, hey, hey, you're okay. I’ve got you,” he murmured, his voice a low, steady rumble that cut through the noise, anchoring you to the present. You buried your face against his chest, your hands clutching at his shirt as if he were the only thing keeping you from drowning. The tears kept coming, but they were different now—less frantic, more a release of all the tension you had been holding onto. Trent’s embrace was a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of the abyss you had been teetering on. The world around you seemed to fade, the thumping bass and flashing lights dimming in comparison to the steady, comforting rhythm of Trent’s heartbeat against your ear. You could feel his warmth seeping into you, calming the storm that raged inside you. In his arms, you felt a safety you hadn’t known she needed—a reassurance that, despite everything, you weren’t alone.

“Just breathe for me,” Trent whispered, his voice soft and close to your ear. “I’m here. You’re safe.” You tried to do as he said, taking a shaky breath that caught in your throat. But with him holding you, the air seemed easier to draw in, the panic slowly ebbing away. The tears continued to fall, but now they were softer, quieter, as if his presence was slowly soothing the hurt you felt. For a moment, there was only you—no noise, no crowd, no chaos. Just the steady beat of his heart and the warmth of his embrace. Trent held you tightly, his grip firm yet gentle, his touch grounding you in a way that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be alright. You stood in there struggling to catch your breath as Trent's arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint smell of spilled drinks and cigarette smoke, grounding you in a way that felt comforting and electric all at once. He tightened his hold, his chin resting on the top of your head, and his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. But even as he tried to comfort you, a battle still raged inside him. Part of him wanted to go find Josh right then and there, to make him pay for every single bruise on your skin, every tear he'd caused. The other part of him—the rational part—knew he needed to stay with you, to keep you safe and calm. And then there was the question he couldn't push away: Should he tell Jack?  Jack was his best friend, but Jack was also your brother. He deserved to know that his sister had been hurt, but Trent also knew how fiercely protective Jack was of you. If he told Jack, there’d be no holding him back, and things could spiral out of control. Plus, he wasn't sure if you'd want Jack to know—if you'd want your brother to see you in this vulnerable state.

"I got you," he whispered as his thoughts spiraled, his voice filled with a tenderness you hadn't felt in a long time. "I got you, okay?" You felt something break in that moment-a wall you'd kept up around yourself for so long. And when his lips brushed the top of your head in a soft kiss, something stirred inside you, a longing that had been quietly simmering for years. It felt like an opening. Your heart raced as you pulled back slightly, your gaze finding his, and in the dim light, his eyes softened, a silent understanding passing between you. You hesitated, but then, almost instinctively, you tilted up, pressing your lips to his. It was a tentative kiss at first, a question in every touch of your lips against his. Trent tensed, caught off guard, but he didn't pull away. He wanted this so instead, his hands found your waist, his fingers digging in ever so slightly as he kissed you back, the warmth of his mouth melting away the hurt that had clung to you since your ex's cruel words. The world around you disappeared, leaving just the two of you tangled together, like a fuse that had finally been lit. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, years of unspoken attraction finally bubbling over. His hands roamed, his grip on you tightening as he leaned into you, pushing you up against the cool brick wall behind you. Every touch, every brush of his lips against yours, felt like it was meant to be, like you'd waited your whole life for this moment. God, he wanted this… but not like this. This was wrong. So then, just as quickly as it started, he pulled back, his breathing heavy as he looked at you with wide eyes, his expression torn between disbelief and something deeper. 

"What...Y/N… what are we doing?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his fingers still lingering on your skin. The conflict in his eyes was clear, and it sent a pang through your chest. But you didn't care about the doubts racing through his mind. You leaned in again, refusing to let go of this feeling. To remind him how very right this wrong was. The kiss was softer this time, gentler, but just as consuming. You poured everything into it—all the years of longing, the quiet, unspoken feelings, the ache you'd felt every time you saw him with someone else. And for a moment, he gave in, his lips moving against yours like he'd been holding back for years. You could feel him wanting more but then, with a deep sigh, he pulled away once more, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing. "Y/ N... we can't. I can't," he murmured, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry. I just..." He muttered. The rejection cut deeper than you expected, the pain raw and immediate. Your eyes burned with fresh tears as you took a shaLay step back, your heart pounding with a mix of heartbreak and anger.  

"Fuck you!" you cried, your voice trembling. It felt like the walls you'd let down were crashing back up, each one harder than before. You turned on your heel, ready to escape before he saw you fall apart completely. But he reached out, his hand grazing your arm, as if he couldn't quite let you go. You recoiled, stepping back, your expression a mix of pain and anger. 

"Wait," he pleaded softly, but you yanked your arm from his grasp, your heart shattering as you disappeared into the crowd, leaving him behind with the lingering taste of regret on his lips. Trent’s heart ached seeing the tears well up in your eyes again.  You turned and ran, pushing your way back through the crowd, your vision blurred with tears. You didn’t care where you were going; you just needed to get away from him, from the humiliation and the heartbreak. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you fled, but you didn’t look back. Trent watched you go, his heart sinking into his stomach. He wanted to run after you, to explain, to somehow make it right, but his feet felt like they were glued to the floor. He knew you needed space, needed time to cool off. But as he stood there, the guilt and worry gnawed at him. He had never wanted to hurt you, but in trying to protect you, he feared he had done exactly that. The sounds of the club grew louder around him, but Trent felt miles away, lost in his thoughts. He knew he’d have to find a way to make this right with you, to explain himself, and to make sure you knew how much he cared. But for now, all he could do was watch you disappear into the crowd, your absence leaving a painful ache in his chest. Trent leaned back against the wall, trying to process what had just happened. Some of his teammates who he was out with came over. They were giving him confused looks, clearly curious about the scene they had just witnessed. From their perspective, he had chased after to a a teary-eyed girl, who then kissed him like her life depended on it, and then, just as quickly, pulled away with a broken ‘fuck you.’ They had questions.

“Mate, what was that about?” one of them asked, laughing awkwardly, unsure how to react to the tension still lingering in the air.

“Bro, was that…” Another piled on cautiously, recognizing you. Trent ran his hands over his face, trying to shake off the flood of emotions. He glanced toward the crowd, desperately scanning for you, but you’d disappeared into the sea of people. His chest tightened, and he let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of what just happened settle in. He couldn’t explain it, not to them, not in a way that made any sense. 

“Yeah, was Jack’s sister.” He muttered after he took a deep breath, eyes still flicking toward the direction you’d gone. The second those words left his mouth, Trent knew something had shifted inside him. It wasn’t a lie, not really, but it felt bigger than that. It felt like a realization he’d been avoiding for too long. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You were his everything. And the truth of that hit him like a freight train, leaving him standing there, breathless and rattled.

“Fuck, mate. That’s complicated.”  One of his teammates whistled, finally connecting the dots.

“Yeah,” Trent breathed out, his mind racing. It was beyond complicated. Jack was his best friend, and you… you were the girl who had been slowly slipping from childhood crush to something deeper, something dangerous. He shook his head, his thoughts swirling. The way you’d kissed him tonight, the hurt in your eyes, the fire in the way you’d pulled away—it was like everything had boiled over, and Trent had been too slow to catch up. He’d rejected you, not because he didn’t want you, but because he wanted you too much. He couldn’t handle the idea of hurting Jack, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But now, standing there with his teammates still glancing at him for answers, he realized that line had already been blurred for a while. You weren’t just Jack’s sister. You hadn’t been for a long time. And now, Trent wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep pretending otherwise. As the music pulsed around him, Trent felt a shift. He needed to find you, needed to figure out what came next, no matter how messy it got. Because, after tonight, he knew he couldn’t go back to seeing you as just Jack’s little sister. You were more than that. You always had been. 

After leaving Trent behind, you had stumbled back into the chaos of the dance floor, your heart pounding and your emotions a tangled mess. You had felt rejected and humiliated, and in a haze of frustration and alcohol, you made a poor decision. You spotted a man at the bar—a tall, handsome stranger who had been eyeing you all night. Without much thought, you walked up to him and struck up a conversation. His flirty smile and eager compliments were a welcome distraction from the pain you felt. When he suggested you leave together far sooner than appropriate, you didn’t hesitate. You just wanted to forget, to numb the ache in your chest caused by Trent's rejection. You told Layla you felt sick and had needed to leave. She knew it was a farce but she also knew she couldn't stop you. She assumed it was just Josh being an ass she had no idea you had just kissed Trent. She called and called to find you; to leave with you but you just texted saying it was all fine. But as the night unfolded and you found yourself in the stranger's bed, you quickly realized how hollow it all felt. The sex was awkward and unfulfilling, a stark contrast to the passion you had imagined when you thought of Trent. You found yourself comparing the man to Trent in every way—his touch, his movements, the way he spoke to you. Every comparison only made you miss Trent more. You knew deep down that Trent would have been different—gentler or maybe rougher but definitely more attentive, more real. Tears stung your eyes as you lay there, regretting your impulsive decision. This was a low. By the time morning came, you left the stranger's place without a word, feeling emptier than before. You hadn’t heard from Trent since that night. Part of you was relieved, thinking it was better this way—less complicated. But another part of you ached for him, for his presence, for the safety you felt in his arms. 

You’d stumbled in through your front door just after dawn, your steps heavy and uneven, your head pounding with every movement. Jack was already up, a coffee mug in hand, leaning against the kitchen counter with a lazy grin. 

“Rough night?” he joked, his eyes barely glancing up from his phone. “You look like you’ve been through hell.” You tried to muster a response, but all that came out was a soft hum, barely audible over the sound of the coffee machine. Your shoulders slumped as you shuffled over to the fridge, your body moving on autopilot. The sting of tears was still fresh in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall again, not in front of him. Jack finally looked up from his phone, his grin fading when he saw the look on your face. He straightened up, setting his mug down on the counter, his brow furrowing with concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, his voice softer now, more serious.  You just hummed again, the sound weak and empty. You didn’t have the energy to explain, didn’t want to get into it with him. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you closely, but you kept your gaze fixed on the floor, avoiding his gaze. Jack took a step closer, his concern growing. “You sure?” he pressed gently, sensing something was wrong. “You don’t look so good.” You just shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak. Your throat felt tight, your chest aching with the effort of holding everything in. You needed to get out of there, away from his questions and his worry. You couldn’t deal with it, not now.

“I’m fine,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a lie, and you knew he could see right through it, but you didn’t care. You needed to be alone, to let yourself fall apart without an audience. Jack watched you, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, but he didn’t push any further. He just nodded, letting you go. He knew you knew he was there if you needed him. 

 “Alright,” he said quietly, stepping back. “But if you need anything...” You nodded, not waiting for him to finish. You turned and headed upstairs, your steps heavy and slow. As soon as you reached your room, you closed the door behind you and sank onto your bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears finally came.  The weight of the night before crashed down on you, and you couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through your chest. The shame, the regret, the confusion—it was all too much. You’d thought you could handle it, thought you could keep it together, but now, alone in your room, it all felt too heavy to bear. You cried until there were no tears left, your body shaking with the force of your sobs. And when you finally stopped, when the tears finally ran dry, you were left with nothing but the hollow ache in your chest and the haunting memory of Trent’s rejection.

You were absolutely mortified. You had kissed Trent. How could you have done something so reckless? You laid there, staring blankly at the ceiling on Layla’s bed at her place, your mind racing in sheer panic. Every nerve in your body felt on edge, replaying that moment over and over. What was worse was that it never happened before, not even close, but something had come over you—like instinct taking over reason—and now you regretted it. Layla shifted beside you, sensing your turmoil. 

“Come on, it won’t that bad,” she said in an attempt to soften the blow. You groaned, rolling onto your side to face her. 

“No, Lays. I can never, ever see him again.” The words came out in a rush, your voice cracking under the weight of your embarrassment. She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. 

“That’s not true.” She told you. You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest, your breath shaking. 

“It is! I crossed the line. And he… rejected me.” The last part was barely a whisper, like speaking it aloud made the sting of it even worse. You felt your face grow hot, the emotions swelling until they spilled over. The rejection was unbearable, and before you knew it, tears slipped down your cheeks. You tried to laugh it off, wiping at your face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired,” you said, your voice wavering between a sob and a chuckle. Layla immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you close. 

“No, it’s not just tiredness,” she murmured into your hair, holding you tightly. “This sucks. The boy you like just said no. That’s a lot to handle, but we move.” You stayed in her embrace, taking in her warmth, but her words only made your heart ache more.

“I’m not even sure if I just like him,” you admitted, voice small and hollow as you pulled away slightly to look at her. Layla’s face twisted in confusion. 

“What?” she asked, blinking, and then a knowing look crossed her face as she softened. “Oh no. Babe…” You swallowed hard, blinking back more tears. 

“I mean, I do… but it’s more complicated than that. It’s not just like.” The weight of the word hung in the air between you both, unspoken but understood.

“You love him,” Layla said quietly with a frown she couldn’t control, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But maybe right now, the feeling of love is for your friend.” She paused, her eyes full of sympathy. “You don’t need to hurt yourself imagining anything more, okay? Not right now.” You bit your lip and nodded, the tears still threatening to spill over. You were exhausted, heartbroken, confused.  You knew you loved Trent as Jack's best friend, as a friend of your own but you had never had an intimate relationship to say you loved him any deeper than that. The thought of those feelings right now though were making you sick.

“But what if I can’t face him? What if it’s too awkward?” Layla shook her head and gave you a reassuring squeeze. 

“You’ll bounce back. Trent’s nice. He’s not going to make fun of you for this or make it weird. You two have been friends for too long for that.” But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sting of rejection. Maybe Layla was right—Trent wouldn’t make fun of you, but things weren’t the same anymore. Not after this.

When Jack invited Trent along with all the other boys over for a movie night a few days later, Trent was hesitant. He knew you might be home, and he wasn’t sure how you’d feel seeing him. But Jack was his best friend, and Trent figured maybe it was time to face the music. As Trent walked up to Jack’s front door, his nerves were on edge. He took a deep breath and knocked, his mind racing with what he might say if you were there. The door swung open, and Jack greeted him with a grin, pulling him into a quick hug.

“All good, mate?” Jack said, stepping aside to let Trent in. But Trent only hummed. He managed a smile, following Jack inside. He glanced around the living room, half-expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the room was empty. “Y/N’s out,” Jack said casually, noticing Trent’s quick survey of the room. “I think she’s been a bit off lately. Haven’t seen much of her.” Trent nodded, trying to hide his relief that you weren’t home but sadness Jack noticed things were off.. 

“Yeah, I haven’t seen her either,” he replied, his voice steady despite the churn in his stomach. Jack grabbed a bottle of water and handed one to Trent.

“She seemed pretty fucked up when she came back from a night out but didn’t tell me much, though.” Trent took a long sip of his water, not sure how to respond.  Jack and Trent were sitting in silence on their phones only best friends could sit in whilst waiting in the kitchen for the other boys to show up. Trent kept glancing toward the hallway, waiting for the moment you would come home. He wanted to see you, to talk to you, to somehow make things right. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no sign of you, a sense of unease settled in his chest. The sound of a key turning in the front door caught Trent’s attention. He tensed, his heart quickening as he heard the door open and close. A few seconds later, you appeared strutting through the house, your face mildly flushed from the summer heat outside. You froze when you saw Trent sitting there, your expression shifting from surprise to something unreadable. 

“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice tight.

“Hey,” Trent replied, his eyes locked on you.  Jack, sensing the tension, cleared his throat. 

“Hey, Y/N. Weird vibe but erm.. Lads are watching Shawshank tonight. Want to join?” He asked, trying to lessen whatever awkwardness just flooded the room. You shook your head, avoiding Trent’s gaze. 

“No, thanks. I’m just going to head to my room.” Jack looked between the two of you, frowning slightly. 

“You sure? You haven’t been out here much lately.” He cooed gently. 

“I’m sure,” you smiled sympathetically at your older brother. You appreciated him caring but this was far from something he could help with. You turned and disappeared down the hallway without another word. Trent watched you go, the weight of your unfinished business hanging heavy in the air. He knew he needed to talk to you, to explain himself, but he wasn’t sure if you’d even listen. For now, all he could do was sit and wait, hoping for a chance to make things right.

You had spent the last few days trying to keep yourself busy, but no matter what you did, you couldn’t get Trent out of your mind. Trent, on the other hand, was torn between worry and respect for your space. He had tried to find you that night at the club, but it was like you had vanished into thin air. He didn’t want to push you, especially after how things had ended between you. Still, the thought of your hurt and alone gnawed at him. Trent thought about that kiss everyday and how much withstraint he was having to practice. He wanted to rip your clothes off, he had to stop his hands' magnetic pull to grab your ass. It was a typical movie night—Jack had all the boys over for another film. They’d yell through the whole thing and gossip in a way they’d claim only girls did. You knew the drill by now, but tonight felt different. You hadn’t seen Trent since that moment, the kiss that had turned everything upside down. You tried to ignore how awkward things were between you and trent but you were dying of thirst and you weren’t sure if dying of embarrassment of dehydration would be worse, You settled on dehydration so you moved quickly through the house, attempting to avoid where all the boys were, but Trent wasn’t going to let it go. He heard you try to sneak into the kitchen.

“Y/N,” he called out quietly, coming into the room behind you and taking a few steps toward you. You froze, your back to him, the tension thick in the air. You could hear Jack in the cinema complaining about something, completely oblivious you’d hoped. You weren’t ready for this, not now, not when your emotions were so raw.

“Please, I don’t want to talk to you,” you said firmly, your voice low, trying to keep the emotion out of it.

“Y/N, come on… just give me a minute,” he persisted, his voice filled with a quiet plea.You whipped around, eyes already welling up. 

“Trent, I really don’t want to talk to you,” you snapped, trying to hold your composure. “Frankly, I’m having a hard time even just seeing you right now, so please,” you begged, your voice cracking under the weight of it all. You could feel your chest tightening, the tears threatening to spill. His face softened, but he didn’t move.

“I just want to talk. Please,” he said, sounding desperate now, like he was grasping at straws. But you couldn’t do this. Not here. Not with Jack just a few rooms away. You shook your head, blinking back tears, but one escaped anyway. 

“I don’t want to talk,” you choked out, your voice shaLay, as the tears began to build along your lash line. Trent stood there, helpless. His hands flexed at his sides like he didn’t know what to do, caught between wanting to comfort you and knowing that he couldn’t—not here, not now. You could see the frustration and guilt etched on his face, but it didn’t matter. You didn’t have the energy to deal with this.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. But you just shook your head again and walked out of the room, leaving him standing there, stuck in the mess that neither of you had any idea how to clean up. And the worst part was, Jack was still there—completely unaware of the storm brewing between you two, his heart left open to wounded arguably as much as yours if you couldn’t sort this.

Trent thought about that drunk, tearful kiss at the club every single day. It replayed in his mind over and over, the taste of it, the way your lips had trembled against his, the way your hands had gripped onto him like he was the only thing anchoring you. He hadn't even expected it—had been caught off guard by how much he wanted it too. But then, the reality had hit him hard. The restraint he had to practice afterward felt like torture. It felt like trying to fight a g force the way his hands moved on your body. He wanted to rip your clothes off that night, to give in to the magnetic pull that constantly drew him to you. But he couldn't. Not like that. Not when you were drunk and emotional. Not when it could ruin everything. Now, the moment haunted him, and he was stuck in the limbo of not knowing what to do next. What if you regretted it? What if that kiss had meant something completely different to you than it did to him? And what scared him the most-what kept him up at night-was the realization that he didn't just want the kiss. He wanted more than that. He wanted you in a way that wasn't just about desire or physical attraction. He wanted to be the one who made you smile, who you leaned on, who you could trust with all the messy bits of life. But what if he'd already blown his chance? What if that kiss had been the beginning of the end rather than the start of something more? 

This tension carried on for days. Neither you or Trent making any further attempts at sorting it. Trent sat at a restaurant with Jack and Noah one night, completely lost in his own thoughts. His fork hovered above his plate, food untouched, as he stared blankly at the table. Jack, noticing how quiet he’d been, shot Noah a look. They’d been trying to get him to open up all night, but nothing was working.

“Mate, seriously, what’s going on?” Jack finally asked, setting down his drink. “You’ve barely said two words.”

“Yeah, you’ve been in your own head all night. Go on.” Noah chimed in. Trent talked nonstop all the time so this was very out of character and it’d been going on for over a week. Trent shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He wasn’t sure if this was something he should even bring up, especially not with Jack sitting right there. But the weight of what happened between him and you had been pressing down on him for days, and he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore. He ran a hand over his hair, debating how to word it without setting off alarm bells.

“Have you ever…” he began slowly, his voice low, “turned down a girl and then immediately regretted it?” He sheepishly asked his eyes, flicking to both boys trying to gauge their responses. 

“Nah, mate. If I turn her down, it’s for a reason.” Noah, always the confident one, scoffed.

“Yeah, once or twice. Why?” But Jack, ever the romantic, leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful nod. Trent’s eyes flickered between them, his stomach churning as he chose his next words carefully. He had to be vague, had to make sure Jack wouldn’t catch on.

“There’s this girl…” he started. He hesitated, feeling the weight of his own words. “She kissed me, but she was drunk, so I pushed her away. Now she’s pissed, and she won’t talk to me.” Trent hesitantly explained. Trent wasn’t normally shy talking about women so this whole thing was very confusing for his friends.

“So why did you turn her down if you’re this worked up about it?” Noah’s brow furrowed.

“Because she was drunk!” Trent said, frustration lacing his voice. He looked down at the table, unable to meet their eyes. “I didn’t want it to be like that.” Jack shrugged, clearly puzzled. 

“That’s more than valid, mate. If she was drunk, you did the right thing. Why wouldn’t she understand that?” Trent groaned inwardly, knowing he couldn’t explain the real reason behind his frustration without giving too much away. The truth was, he didn’t want just a drunken kiss. He wanted more than that—something real, something that wasn’t just swept under the rug as a mistake.

“It’s complicated,” he muttered, his voice trailing off. Noah, always the one to push for action, smirked.

 “Next time you see her, just go for it. Easy.” He looked at Trent like he had solved his issue no problem. Trent couldn’t help but laugh at the simplicity of Noah’s solution. If only it were that easy. He wasn’t just dealing with any girl—this was you, Jack’s sister. It wasn’t something he could just ‘go for’ without thinking about the consequences. Jack, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward with a more serious expression. 

“Mate, just talk to her. Tell her you actually care about her and that you want it to be something she remembers, not something that happened when she was drunk. Simple as.” Trent’s heart sank. Jack had unknowingly hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what he wanted to say to you, but how could he? How could he tell you that he cared about you—really cared about you—when Jack was right there, completely unaware of the storm brewing between the two of you? He tried to keep his expression neutral as Jack gave advice, but guilt gnawed at him. He was about to take his best mate’s advice and use it to get closer to his little sister. The irony wasn’t lost on him, and it made his stomach twist. But he couldn’t keep running from the situation. He had to talk to you, had to tell you how he felt before it drove him insane. Noah, oblivious to the deeper layers of the situation, laughed and gave Trent a light punch on the arm. 

“Yeah, man. What’s the worst that could happen? You talk, she listens, and you two figure it out, I imagine she’s leng.. Get her in bed. Done.” Noah quipped and Trent’s guilt worsened. He forced a chuckle, but his mind was already elsewhere. What was the worst that could happen? Jack could find out. He could lose his best friend. You could reject him, or worse—tell him that kiss was nothing more than a drunken mistake. The thought made his chest tighten. But Noah’s lightheartedness didn’t calm Trent’s nerves. Jack’s advice, however, echoed in his mind—talk to her, tell her how you feel. Trent knew it was the right move, but the fear of rejection, of ruining everything, loomed over him like a dark cloud. As they finished dinner and paid the bill, Trent’s thoughts were already on what was coming next. He was heading to your house after this. You’d be there. Jack would be there. And somehow, amidst it all, he had to figure out how to have that conversation. As they walked to the cars, Jack patted Trent on the back. 

“You’ll be alright, mate. Just don’t overthink it.” Trent forced a smile, but his mind was racing. He couldn’t shake the anxiety bubbling inside him. Jack’s words rang in his ears, and he knew he had to take the advice, but how? As Trent drove to your house, the weight of everything pressed down on him. He was about to walk into a house where everything could change in a matter of minutes. He wanted more than a kiss, more than just a fleeting moment—but what if you didn’t? What if that kiss had meant nothing to you? You only said you didn’t want to see him… were you just mad. He couldn’t tell.  Pulling into the driveway, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come. He had to talk to you. He had to try, even if it scared him to death

Trent awkwardly made his way into the living room, his heart pounding as he spotted you already seated on the couch, a blanket wrapped around you. You looked adorable and it made him sadder. You were curled up in the corner, your eyes glued to the TV, but he could tell from the stiffness in your posture that you were aware of his presence. The soft glow from the screen cast a flickering light over your face, highlighting the tension in your jaw and the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should sit down. But with a deep breath, he took a seat next to you, careful to leave a respectful gap between you. The silence between you was thick, almost tangible, and he could feel the awkwardness settling over you like a heavy blanket. 

“Hey,” he said softly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. You barely acknowledged him, giving a short nod without looking away from the TV. 

“Hey,” you replied curtly, your tone clipped. Trent’s heart sank a little at your cold reception. Never in his life had you greeted him like this and it was starting to eat at him but he couldn’t blame you. He knew he’d hurt you that night, and he was ready to face the consequences. He could imagine what he would feel like if you said no to him. Still, the distance between you now felt like a chasm, one he was desperate to cross. He kept his eyes on the screen, pretending to be engrossed in the show, but he was acutely aware of every small movement you made—the way you shifted slightly, the soft sound of your breath, the way your fingers fidgeted with the edge of the blanket. He wanted to say something, anything to bridge the gap, but the words seemed stuck in his throat. Minutes passed in silence, the tension between you unyielding. Trent’s mind raced with what he could say or do to make things right. He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to overstep, but he also didn’t want to let this moment slip away without trying. Finally, gathering his courage, he reached out and gently placed his hand on your leg, just above your knee. It was a tentative touch, his fingers light and hesitant, but it was enough to make you stiffen slightly under his hand. You glanced down at his hand, then up at him, your eyes wide with surprise.

“Y/N,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t mean to upset you that night.” He cooed gently. Your gaze remained on his hand for a moment longer before you sighed, your shoulders relaxing a fraction. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “For… trying to kiss you. I was drunk and— Clearly that’s not something you want and I get that…” You earnestly and awkwardly were trying to apologize but Trent couldn’t help but chuckle softly, interrupting you. 

“You honestly think I didn’t want to kiss you back?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. He kept his eyes on the TV, a coy smile tugging at his lips.  “Trust me, Y/N, it took everything in me to stop.” You looked at him, a flicker of confusion mixed with curiosity in your eyes. 

“Then why did you?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost vulnerable. Trent’s smile faded slightly as he turned to meet your gaze. 

“Because you were upset and not in a good place. I didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you, especially after what that asshole did to you.” You flinched at the mention of Josh, the hurt from his cruel words still fresh in your mind. You looked away, your eyes downcast. 

“He… he said some awful things. It wasn’t great,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Trent’s grip on you tightened just a fraction, his touch becoming more reassuring. You sat there, your heart pounding as Trent's words hung in the air. He'd never spoken to you like that-direct, unfiltered, like he'd been holding back for too long. The way he placed his hand on your thigh, his fingers pressing just enough to make you aware of every inch of contact, sent a spark straight through you. Your mind raced to keep up, to make sense of what was happening, but he was already pushing forward, his tone low, serious, like he needed you to understand.

"That kid's a fucking idiot for losing you," he said, his voice tight, almost angry. "Saying whatever he could to make you feel small... he doesn't know shit about you, and you know that. Right?" You nodded slowly, words caught in your throat. It was true-you did know, somewhere deep down. But hearing it from Trent felt different, grounding, and it made the sting of your ex's words fade, bit by bit. Trent's hand stayed warm on your thigh, a quiet promise in the small gesture. You glanced up at him, your eyes searching his face. You could see the sincerity in his expression, the way his brow furrowed slightly with concern. 

“You really think that?” You asked quietly, your voice tinged with disbelief. Trent nodded, a small, earnest smile playing on his lips. 

“I know that. You’re smart, occasionally  funny,” he teased with a glint in his eyes and your lips curled,  “you’re the sweetest girl I know, and—” he hesitated for a moment, his cheeks flushing slightly, “—gorgeous. You’re fucking gorgeous. Anyone who can’t see that is a fucking donut.” He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to play it cool, trying to be nonchalant in case anyone else happened to come into the room but he could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He risked a quick glance at you and saw a soft smile slowly spreading across your face. The sight of it made his own heart lighten, the tension between you beginning to ease.

"Trent.." you started, wanting to say something, anything, but he shook his head slightly, a glimmer of intensity in his eyes.

"You're beautiful," he interrupted, each word sounding heavier than the last. It was like he'd been carrying them around, waiting for the right moment to let them out. You felt your cheeks flush, a mix of nerves and thrill rushing through you as his gaze stayed locked on yours. He leaned closer, lowering his voice so it’d be impossible for anyone else to hear, his hand firm on your thigh. "And just so you know... that's not the way you get bruises. Never again. I'll fucking kill him if he ever comes near you." His eyes were dark, protective in a way that felt both comforting and incredibly dangerous. Then, in the midst of the tension, he smirked, the intensity softening into something else, something teasing. "The only bruises you ever get are from not being bored in the bedroom. Yeah?” Your breath caught, your face flushing as his words registered. You recalled telling when you split with Josh citing boredom in the bedroom as a problem but you were surprised he remembered that. Surprised he just said that to you. Before you could respond, he gave you a wink, that same smirk lingering as he stood up and walked away, leaving you stunned, heart racing, and desperate for him to come back.

You laid in your bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts about Trent. You could hear the low rumble of laughter drifting up from downstairs where Jack, Trent, and their friends were still hanging out. But your thoughts were miles away, lost in memories of Trent and all the moments you’d shared over the years. You closed your eyes and let the images flood your mind. The way he’d smile at you from across a room, a mischievous glint in his eyes, or the way he always seemed to find a reason to touch you—a hand on your shoulder, a playful nudge, his arm brushing against yours when they sat close. You thought about all the times he’d said sweet things to you, little compliments and comments that you’d always brushed off as friendly banter. You tried your entire life not to take the pet name ‘pretty girl’ too seriously, you always thought maybe he said that to every girl but now it felt personal and just for you. Was he talking about bruises in the bedroom in a sexual way, yeah 100% but did he mean that he would give them to you? Leave love bites on you? Your mind was racing.  But, lying there in the dark, you couldn’t help but wonder if there had been more to it. Your heart fluttered as you recalled the feel of his hand on your leg earlier tonight, the warmth of his touch and the firm yet gentle way he’d reassured you. You shivered, a pleasant tingle running through you as you thought of all the times his hands had been on you, even in the most innocent of ways. His touch always left a lingering warmth, a sensation that seemed to seep under your skin and settle deep within you, leaving you longing for more. You bit your lip, a wave of desire washing over you. In your longing haze, you wondered if maybe you’d been missing something all along. Had Trent been flirting with you all these years, in his subtle, teasing way but in all seriousness, did he want something? Was there something real to your relationship that you hadn’t let yourself see? Was it more than teasing? The thought sent a thrill through you, a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. Your fingers itched to reach for your phone, and before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed it from your bedside table. You couldn’t shake what he said to you, Trent had made it clear-it wasn't that he wasn't interested. Now, you were ready to take the risk, fully aware that all the boys were together. It was dangerous, maybe even reckless, but that only made it more exhilarating. They were watching a movie in the cinema room, the lights dimmed, everyone absorbed in whatever action scene was playing on the screen. You were upstairs in bed, restless and buzzing with anticipation. You flipped your phone camera to 0.5 to catch yourself at a high angle, tits prominently displayed in your thin bralette, the flash making your nipples obviously visible. You typed out a message, your fingers moving faster than your brain could catch up.

"Is this the appropriate place to get those bruises you were talking about?"

You pressed send, heart pounding in your chest. The silence afterward was deafening as you waited for a response. It was insane you just did this, but you couldn't back out now. A part of you wished you could retract it but there it was… ‘read.’ Trent opened the message, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked, unsure if he'd seen it right, unsure if you had actually sent it. This was the first time you'd ever texted him directly. Sure, you'd always been in the group chats-always flirty in your usual playful way-but nothing like this. The last personal message you'd sent was your order for a takeaway months ago, and before that, it had been something for your birthday and then passport details for a trip that seemed forever ago. A trip you weren’t sure why you were invited on to begin with but it was one where you'd teetered on the edge of something more with him but never quite tipped over. Now you had pushed things over that fragile edge with a stupid text. There was a reason for the limited texts though, because you knew it’d lead to something just like this. Trent swallowed hard, his eyes fixed on the image, the words beneath it repeating in his head. He couldn't let the boys see this but he also didn’t want to look away. He couldn’t… but he had to.

Quickly, he swiped out of the message, his phone burning hot in his hand. He shoved the phone into his lap, screen down, and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to focus on anything but the visual of you barely in that bralette. He felt a slow, stupid grin spread across his face despite his best efforts. His heart was racing, and he could feel the tension building inside him. He knew things were spiraling. He'd always told himself this was a line he couldn't cross, but now? Now, it felt inevitable. Trent moved, his thumb hovered over his phone. He dimmed the screen, adjusted his seat in the chair, trying to play it cool making sure the other boys were none the wiser. His mind was racing, wondering if this was you really finally putting your hat in the ring. And god, if it was... there was no way he could say no. Now, all that was left was his response. Trent took his time responding, trying to be as calculated as possible. You stared at the screen, your breath catching in your throat as you waited for his response. The dots appeared then disappeared only to reappear, showing he was typing back, and your heart leaped into your throat. What was he going to say? Had you gone too far? You felt a rush of adrenaline mixed with a hint of fear. But underneath it all was a simmering excitement you couldn’t deny. You could practically feel the tension building in the air around you. Finally, your phone buzzed with a new message, and you hesitated before opening it, your pulse racing…

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 3 - Crossed A Few Lines xx

[thejakeslayla]

I have a script idea in my mind, but if you don't want to, you can of course not write it.

I had a fight with Jake this morning and i got angry and went to the club with my friend to drink. The end of the night, i was so drunk, my friend called my bf Jake, and asked him to pick me up. Then while Jake is trying to drive me home we start arguing about why I went to the club and why get so drunk. Later, when he sees that we are really bad-drunk, he worries about me and takes good care of me.

I'm sorry if it's too much, you don't have to write it. I hope it didn't sound like an order. I dont want to be misunderstood. :(

╰─▸❝ going through hard time in your relationship with jake ❞

idol!jake x gn! reader ୨୧ genre angst, fluff at the ending ୨୧ warnings profanity, alcohol, neglect of relationship and a dog, arguments, kissing, sfw intimacy (jake helping reader change) ୨୧ wc 3k

you woke up unusually early today. your boss had called you two days ago and requested that you come in earlier due to the recent workload at your company. you agreed to the request, and the night before, as you prepared to wake up early, you asked jake to walk layla, your adorable border collie puppy.

as you left the bed, jake sensed the absence of your warmth and presence. he shifted in bed as you gathered your things from the desk. glancing in his direction, you greeted him with a smile, taking note of how he was presently rubbing his sleepy eyes. he appeared incredibly endearing, with disheveled hair and a groggy expression on his face.

"where are you going, angel?" he asked, his morning voice, with its deep and soothing timbre, melting your heart. you packed everything into your bag and approached the bed. you playfully tousled his blond locks and planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"i'm going to work, baby. don't forget to take layla for a walk, okay?" you reminded him, thinking that he might still be half-asleep and not thinking clearly. as you began to move away, jake grabbed your wrist, preventing you from getting too far.

"what? I have morning practice today, i can't," he said, and you looked at him, realizing he was fully awake now and understanding the situation.

"jake, I told you yesterday right after you got home. do you even listen to me when i talk to you?"

you understood that your boyfriend had a busy schedule, but lately, it felt like he wasn't fully present when you spoke to him. he used to pay attention to even the smallest details of your conversations, but recently, he seemed to forget the topics altogether. when the first week passed, you attributed it to him being overworked, as it had happened before, but now it had been weeks.

he didn’t have time for you, which you at some point got used to, you understood, it was his job. but layla was his puppy, he was the one to grow up with her and you just came into his life, when layla was already there. at the very least, he should be able to spare some time for her, a single walk wouldn't hurt him. 

you sighed, your expression becoming more irritated. he remained silent for a while, and when he finally responded, you couldn't help but explode in anger.

“y/n, i can’t. just walk her today, please.” 

he had the audacity to ask you to walk her, even though you did it every day. it's not like you didn't enjoy it; in fact, you loved it. but you weren't the rightful owner of layla. sometimes it felt that way, as you were the one feeding her, playing with her, taking her to the vet, and walking her.

“jake, literally what the fuck is wrong with you?” you exclaimed, unable to contain the anger that had been building up over the weeks.“are you aware that layla is also your fucking dog? i moved in with you, and yes, i agreed to take care of her too because i treat her like my own, even though she isn't.” 

“i get that and i truly understand that you’re too busy to spend time with me, but she’s a fucking dog!I can't explain to her that her dad is a neglectful owner who's too busy with work to even walk her when i'm busy!” you shouted. “you're not the only one with a job here. i've had to leave early numerous times to take care of her or handle things for you because you were too busy.” 

“show her that you love her at least! you already don’t show me that, so do it for her!” 

with those words, you left, slamming the bedroom door behind you. your whole day was now ruined. you despised how jake had been treating you and your precious "puppy daughter" lately. you noticed how layla always waited by the front door, ignoring your calls when it was bedtime, falling asleep on the doormat rather than in your bed right behind you. she was always near you, ready to comfort you when you cried because of jake's absence. she missed him as much as you did, but she was a puppy who wouldn't understand why jake wasn't home.

you said goodbye to hear, promising her that you'd be back soon. leaving the house, you felt a heavy weight pressing down on you with each step. a knot of anxiety and unbearable sadness twisted in your stomach.

on the other side, jake remained in bed, utterly shocked by your words. when he realized that he should probably apologize and agree with you, that he had been a terrible owner to layla and an awful boyfriend to you, it was already too late. you had left.

he looked at layla, who appeared clearly clueless, wagging her tail as she noticed that jake was awake. he patted the mattress, inviting her up.

as you arrived at the office, your coworker and best friend of several years instantly picked up on your bad mood. she didn't press you for details, knowing that you would open up during lunch. 

and it did happen. as you took another bite of your rice, she sat down next to you, and it took only a few minutes for you to vent and share the morning's argument with jake 

"i just don't understand. it's not like i don't enjoy taking care of layla, but it feels like he's changed. we used to take walks with her together, play with her together, and—" you sighed, toying with your food as your mind filled with memories of you and jake spending time together.

"i absolutely adore her. it really feels like she's just my dog, like she's not jake's dog anymore. but he told me when i moved in that she's our dog now, that we'd both take care of her." 

"i don't know anymore. i just want to get absolutely wasted tonight," you concluded, looking at your best friend.

"well, you could say that you three are like a family now. it says a lot about jake if he's treating layla and you like that. i don't even want to imagine if layla were a human, not a dog." 

and you thought about it. jake wouldn't treat his own human daughter like this, would he?

you didn't even realize when the scenery changed, and you found yourself in a nearby club, sipping on your second, or maybe third, drink. you were ready to order another one when your friend stopped you.

"remember that you're lightheaded, okay? i don't want you to end up sick from another drink." you could tell she was concerned, but you paid her no attention. your goal for the night was to forget all your problems.

after about two more drinks, you danced for a solid hour, immersing yourself in the crowd, engaging in small talk, and meeting new people. one drink too many, and your head landed on the table. everything was spinning, and your stomach felt uneasy. you tried to calm yourself with deep breaths, you weren’t ready to go home, you didn’t want to see jake just yet.

as you closed your eyes to rest, you immediately regretted it as everything spun even faster.

"y/n, you don't look well. i think that's enough for you," your best friend's soft voice whispered near your ear. 

"maybe you should pick up the phone and ask jake to come get you?" she asked. you had been ignoring jake's calls since you finished your first drink. it was even later now, and your phone showed 23 missed calls and 31 messages.

"he's probably worried about you, y/n. you should at least text him that you're okay."

and as she said that, your phone rang again. you weren't quick enough, as your best friend picked up the phone.

"hi, umm... i work with y/n. she's okay, yes. she's safe, but... well, she's drunk. i told her to call you, but she keeps saying she doesn't want to talk to you. i'll message you the address. please come get her."

and just like that, almost ten minutes later, you heard his voice. god, how much you hated his beautiful voice right now. 

"y/n! princess, my dear," you heard him getting closer. he wrapped his arm around your waist as he sat next to you. "why didn't you tell me you were going clubbing?"

"leave me alone, jaeyun. i don't want to talk to you," you mumbled, trying to move away, but he was simply too strong.

"it's okay. let's just go home and talk, okay?" 

you couldn't resist his firm grasp, and he easily guided you into the car. with all the movement, your stomach churned, and you had to fight the urge to throw up. as you got into the car, jake handed you a bottle of water and fastened your seatbelt, but he didn't start the car yet.

"can we talk?" he asked, his voice gentle and quiet.

“there's nothing to talk about. just drive me home," you replied, ignoring his extended hand holding the water bottle.

“y/n–“ 

"there's nothing to talk about!" you shouted, frustrated and intoxicated enough to raise your voice. 

“can you at least fucking listen to me?” he also raised his voice, trying to be heard over you. 

“listen, i know i fucked up. i walked layla this morning, i left work early, and i spent time with her. i understand how you felt, and—“ 

“you don’t understand shit.” you spat out. “you have no idea how much you've hurt me.” 

“but layla is fine–“ 

"it's not about layla! for weeks, i've been wondering why you're avoiding me, because that's how it feels. you're only home to sleep and, sometimes maybe eat, when you feel like acknowledging your girlfriend. but oh, sorry, you don't even listen to her!" you cut him off, too angry to hold back, the alcohol removing any filter.

"i really don't get what changed. i don't understand what i did to deserve this treatment. but if this is what our relationship is going to look like, i don't want to be in it." 

jake’s eyes widened, shocked that you could actually break up with him. you – the love of his life, his princess, his angel, his everything. e was one hundred percent sure he couldn't live without you. his source of happiness, you were his source of happiness. he grabbed your wrist, gently squeezing it. 

“y/n, don’t say that.” he finally spoke, and you finally realised how hurt he was, the sadness in his voice evident.

“drive me home.” 

and he did. he helped you out of the car, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. he guided you to the bed and left you there to change, going to fetch water, a bowl in case you needed to vomit, and some medicine to prevent a hangover the next day.

as he returned to the bedroom, you were lying on the bed, still in your clothes, wrapped in a blanket.

"hey, angel. here, drink some water, okay?" he said softly, brushing the hair from your face. he helped you take a few sips, but you ended up chugging the entire glass.

"let me help you, okay?" he said, helping you sit up. he handed you one of his t-shirts and a pair of your pajama pants. he sighed when he turned around to you and you were laying down again. after yet again, forcing you to sit up, he grabbed the end of your blouse. 

“may i?” he asked and when you nodded, the cold air attacked your warm skin. you groaned at the feeling. “here, here. one second, princess.” he said, noticing your reaction. he helped you put on the t-shirt and quickly moved to your pants. you accidentally kicked him a couple of times as he tried to remove your clothes, but it wasn't hard enough to hurt him.

once you were changed, he wrapped the blanket around you. then he left the bedroom again, returning with another glass of water. as he set it down, he noticed you had already fallen into a deep sleep, your cheek pressed against the pillow as you hugged a plushie.

he remembered the day he had won that plushie for you. you had joked that it was a miniature version of him, as it was a golden retriever plushie. secretly, he had sprayed it with his perfume every time he had to leave for a tour, leaving you with it to cuddle at night. 

he adored the way you looked when you slept, your face so relaxed, your body rising and falling with your steady breathing. you appeared innocent and pure. he couldn't resist himself, and despite the strong smell of alcohol on you, he placed a kiss on your forehead and then your cheek.

his hand almost unconsciously moved to your head, softly stroking your hair as he sat beside you.

"i'm so sorry, angel," he whispered, still admiring your face. "i should've known better. i should've realized you were hurting."

"i love you so much. if i could, i would go back in time and fix everything. spend more time with you, appreciate you more, and show you just how much i really love you."

if only jake knew that you weren't asleep, that the moment he had touched your head, you had awakened. you couldn't help but feel sad, heartbroken even, as you heard his words. 

"i'm so sorry for being a bad boyfriend, a bad dog owner, and just... overall a bad person. i got so caught up in my work that i forgot i also needed to take care of you. you're way more important than work. you're the love of my life, the person i want to spend my future with. i have so many plans that involve you, my angel."

"jake..." you whispered, slowly opening your eyes.

he withdrew his hand, realizing that you had heard everything he had just confessed. instead of saying anything else, you opened your arms, inviting him into a hug 

"i love you," you said, as he wrapped his arms around you.

"i love you so much, y/n. i'm really sorry. i'll spend more time with you, i promise. i'll be better," he spoke softly, right next to your ear, then pressing a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"it's okay, jake. i understand. it's your job, and you have to be there most of the time. i just wish you were home more often."

"i will, i promise you that, love."

in the following days, jake made a sincere effort to keep his promise of spending more time with you. he adjusted his work schedule to free up some evenings and weekends, ensuring that he had quality time to devote to both you and layla.

one sunny saturday morning, jake surprised you with a homemade breakfast in bed. it wasn’t perfect, the toast slightly burnt and your coffee had too much sugar, but it just made the whole gesture more adorable. he'd even prepared layla's favorite treats, and the three of you enjoyed a cozy meal together. it was a simple gesture, but it meant the world to you.

as the weeks passed, you noticed a positive change in jake's behavior. he was more present, attentive, and genuinely engaged in your conversations. he made an effort to plan special outings and romantic date nights, just like when you first started dating. it was as if he had rediscovered the magic of your relationship.

your bond with layla also strengthened during this time. you both took her on long walks in the park, played fetch and each day jake sent you at least one article on how to take better care of your dog. it was clear that he was determined to be the best dog dad he could be.

one evening, as you and jake cuddled on the couch watching a movie, he turned to you with a heartfelt expression. "y/n, i can't thank you enough for helping me realize what truly matters. i was so consumed by my work that i lost sight of the most important things in my life—you and layla."

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to hold his hand, your fingers interlocking with his. the emotions swelled within you, and you felt a profound connection to the man beside you. "jake," you began, your voice filled with sincerity, "we all make mistakes. what matters is that we learn from them and grow stronger together. i love you, and i'm so glad to see the changes you've made."

jake leaned in and pressed a soft, tender kiss to your forehead. the affectionate gesture sent a warm shiver down your spine, and you nestled even closer to him, finding comfort in his embrace. as the movie continued to play, all while their loyal four-legged companion, layla, lay at your feet, contentedly dozing off, feeling the warmth of her family surrounding her.

as time went on, the two of you learned that love wasn't just about saying "i love you." it was about showing that love through actions, and jake had proven that he was willing to do whatever it took to make your relationship stronger.

. . . . . -ˋˏ ✎ author's note! oh my!! i enjoyed writing this one so much, thank you for requesting with so much details, it was easier to understand your request and write what you actually wanted! hope you enjoyed ♡ requests: open © 2023 — all rights reserved to user thejakeslayla, please do not steal, plagiarise or translate any of my work !

[akanesheep]

What would they name their children?

I’ve seen a lot of fics and blurbs about this, it’s a fun diversion while we wait for the next chapter, so let’s play!

Lucifer:

I frequently see Lucilia, Lucia, Lucius and Lucian, and they’re definite possibilities, and I could definitely see our prideful demon enjoying his name being a part of his children’s name… but what about other alternatives?

Lilith perhaps? A tribute I think any of the brothers would gladly back… but Lucifer or the twins would definitely be the most grateful recipients of such a sentimental tribute.

Outside of those, here’s a few names I think Lucifer would definitely get behind.

Girl:

Adanna: it literally means ‘father’s pride’

Ciara or Kiara: Dark Little one or Dark Haired one. Has Pride ties as well.

Abigail: means ‘father’s joy’ I think it could work with Lucifer. I think he takes great joy in anything that makes him proud.

Daeva: this one has some mixed signals around the world, some say it means ‘beautiful’ or ‘beloved’, and some say it means ‘dark or evil spirit’ I think this could also fit. We humans tend to see everything as clearly black or white, whereas being a Demon doesn’t automatically equal evil. It’s also super pretty.

If we’re going to lean into the ‘dark’, then one cannot do better than Ebony.

Layla is another beautiful choice meaning ‘night’ and ‘beauty’

Boy:

Ciaran or Kieran: the male version of Ciara.

Don’t hate me, but when it comes to boys names, I honestly think he’s going to be most interested in names that derive from his own. Here’s a clever one tho:

Heylel is another name for Lucifer.

Meyer means ‘bringer of light’

Uri means ‘my light’

It is hard to know on him if he would lean into light or celestial names outside of his own, which he feels he has darkened. I think there are many names he just couldn’t accept. He believes names MEAN something… and he is proud of his own. He wants his child to have a name that they can take pride in as well.

You know Luci is going to be all over this though. There isn’t a decision about his child he wouldn’t be deeply involved with. Take a deep breath and collect all your negotiating skills.

Mammon:

Our greedy demon has no shortage of names for a boy or a girl. After all, there are so many names and words for all kinds of treasure.

I wholly believe he would name his daughter after a gemstone or precious stone. Amethyst, Ruby, Sapphire, Emerald, Jade, you get the point…

He could also go with other names like Cherish, which means treasure.

For a boy?

One can’t dismiss obvious names Japanese names of Kin (gold) or Gin (silver), but other names could include:

Takara: another Japanese name, meaning ‘treasure’

If he wants a gemstone name, Garnet would fit the bill.

There are so many names from so many places that he could pick from, but I think that he would pick something that isn’t too dated and old. He’ll go with a name that will fit in with modern times. Mammon is all about value and worth, he greed drives him to be that as well as see dollar signs. His greatest treasure however is his family, he will ensure that his child has a name that will not only show the world how precious and priceless they are to him, but also how much they’re worth.

Levi:

If, and it’s a mighty if, you can get him to stop trying to name your child after Ruri, or any number of anime protagonists. Once you get him away from those (I mean you don’t have to, there are some amazing names that come from anime series), I think he’d associate with names that reference from the sea.

For a girl:

Mariana: from the sea

Kaia: means sea

Kailani: means sky and sea

Maren: sea

Naia: this has a few meanings, including dolphin, to flow, wave, & sea foam

Kairi: sea

Nori: seaweed

Nami: ocean wave

Nerida: sea nymph, mermaid

Neri: burning light or ocean spirit

Laguna: pool, lake

Umi: sea

Let’s not forget the sea goddesses out there, such as Calypso, Circe, and the Sirens (although I think he’d scoff at the siren’s names as being to old-fashioned)

Akane: scarlet cloud… just throwing it out there ;3

For a boy:

Kai: means sea

Caspian: means white, and of course we all know of the Prince Caspian from the Narnia book series.

Lyr: (or Llyr if you want to attempt the Welsh pronunciation, you brave soul) means ‘the sea’

Zale: sea strength

Ocean god names (Neptune, Triton, Jupiter, etc… I think he would think it’s ‘cool’ but would feel he isn’t worthy of giving his child such a name)

Mirren: drop of the sea, beloved

Takumi: open ocean

You could consider some of the other famous sea beasts in mythology, but some just don’t work as well as Leviathan’s name does for him… like Kraken… I just can’t attribute that name to anything other than the Kraken XD

Aside from a few exceptions Levi is more than happy to leave naming to you… please don’t name your child Henry tho, no matter how much he pleads. His fish and snake already have that name, and he also has applied it to you… it starts to get super confusing after awhile.

Satan:

Our love is so romantic. Everything will have special meaning to him, including the naming of his child with you. He never imagined feeling anything other than his anger for so long, and then you came, and you brought so many emotions out in him. He’s going to definitely be pulling names from book characters that mean a lot to him.

Girls:

Juliet: ‘youthful’ let’s be honest, we knew it’d be here, even if he doesn’t go for it.

Odette: from the Swan Princess

Guinevere: ‘White Ghost’ or ‘Phantom’

Isolde: from Wagner’s Tristan & Isolde

Calliope: ‘Beautiful Voiced’

Emma: ‘universal’ from Jane Austen’s novel of the same name

Viola: ‘violet’

Maya: from Maya Angelou, means ‘Good Mother’, ‘Illusion’, & ‘water’

Tempest: storm. Also the name of Shakespere’s ‘The Tempest’

Lyssa: Goddess of Greek Mythology connected to uncontrolled anger.

Aella: whirlwind

Aiden: Little & Trouble

Boys:

Brontë: in recognition of Emily, Charlotte, and Anne Brontë, means ‘thunder’

Tristian: means ‘sad’ from Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde

Dashiell: from author Dashiell Hammet

Edgar: ‘fortunate spear’ First name of Edgar Allan Poe

Poe: last name of Edgar Allan Poe, means ‘Peacock’ (whaaaa??? I’m going to laugh about this one for a while)

William: from William Shakespeare, means ‘will’, ‘protection’, and ‘desire & helmet’

Conan: means ‘hound’ or ‘wolf’, from Arthur Conan Doyle, author of Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock: ‘fair-haired’, protagonist of the Sherlock Holmes stories by Arthur Conan Doyle

Watson: means ‘son of Walter’ Sherlock Holmes reliable assistant from the books written by Arthur Conan Doyle.

Dante: ‘everlasting’, from Dante’s Inferno

Bastion: ‘venerable’ from the book and movie ‘The Neverending Story’

Locke: means ‘livid’

Satan would be so much fun to plan with, because he would be engaged and most open for negotiation.

Asmo:

Y’all… he’s going to have an opinion. His child needs a name that tells the world how beautiful and amazing they are, just like him.

I think for girls, he’s going to love floral names, but he also isn’t going to be rigid on gender locked names. He will seek out great gender neutral names, and names that can be converted easily.

Girls:

Lily: (or Lilian) the meaning changes based on the color of the flower… so we’ll go with what the Oriental Lily represents (because it’s my favorite ;3) It represents ‘the universal standard of beauty.

Rose: another than changes based on color, so we’ll go with Red, meaning ‘Love’

Primrose: means ‘femininity, Grace, youth, & renewal’

Bella: means ‘beautiful’

Azalea: means ‘wealth, family’

Hyacinth: means ‘Sport, game, or play’ meaning changes with a specific color in mind

Iris: means ‘Faith, Hope, Wisdom, Trust, Valor’

Cassia: means ‘cinnamon’

Iridessa: means ‘light, or Illuminated’

Clover: means ‘Think of me’

Ivy: means ‘affection, friendship, fidelity’

Jasmine: means ‘Grace, Elegance’

Violet: means ‘watchfulness, faithfulness, modesty’

Willow: means ‘sadness’

Daisy: means innocence

Flora: Greek Goddess of flowering plants

Fauna: goddess of fields and woodlands

Boys:

Ash: means ‘tree of life’ symbol of powerful solidarity and immortality

Juniper: means ‘strength, wisdom, usefulness, and beauty

Willow: means ‘Sadness’

Ren: means ‘lotus’ as in the lotus flower

Fiore: means ‘little flower’

Quill: from the pink quill

Beelzebub:

Beel isn’t probably going to have much input to offer. He’s happy with whatever you choose. I can imagine that he likes stories about mythical and historical heroes. We know he’s big on protecting and defending those he loves, so perhaps some names that give those meanings some life…

Girls:

Rae: ‘advisor, protector’

Alexandra: ‘defender of man’

Alessia: ‘defender of men’

Dealla: ‘protector’

Hildegard: ‘battle guard’

Kendria: ‘wise protector’

Meredith: ‘protector of the sea’

Artemis: Greek goddess of hunting, animals, and childbirth, protector of women.

Athena: Greek goddess of wisdom and warfare

Ishtar: Babylonian goddess of love, war, and fertility. Also means ‘morning star’ if Beel wants to pay homage to his eldest brother.

Juno: the protector of women

Victoria: ‘victory’

Boys:

Alexander: means ‘defender of the people’

Liam: ‘Protector’

Titan: ‘defender’

Evander: ‘strong man or bowman’

Leander: ‘lion-man’ In Greek legend, Leander was a powerful figure who swam across the Hellespont every night to see his beloved Hero, a priestess of Venus.

Quillon: ‘The Guardian’

William: ‘A willing protector’

Conall: ‘strong wolf’

Quinlan: ‘strong’

Malin: ‘little strong warrior’

I didn’t want to lean too hard on names like Hercules, Thor, etc… I feel he’d hesitate to go after many of the ‘god names’, but Hermes, Hestia, Dionysus, Demeter, and a few others would have food relation, as being various Greek gods of harvest, grapes, home, and feasting. Not sure the canon stance on mythologies like these.

Belphegor:

I think our sleepy demon would like celestial names. He loves looking up to the night sky and watching the stars. If he went with a different name, I think he’d be second most likely to name a daughter after Lilith, but for now let’s look at some other options ^_^

Girl:

Stella: ‘celestial star’

Nova: ‘exploding star’

Luna: Roman Goddess of the Moon

Andromeda: Greek for ‘advising like a man’ >.> alrighty then… we’ll just stick with more astronomy based meanings… In Greek legends, Andromeda was the daughter of Cassiopeia, who Athena made into a constellation. The star cluster is called The Bohemian Andromeda.

Star: no explanation needed, right?

Nebula:

Sky: pretty obvious, but also possibly Skylar.

Namid: Native American for ‘star dancer’

Zenith: ‘Highest or crowining point’

Alula: Arabic in origin, translates to ‘the first leap’; It’s the palindromic name of a rare binary star system (two stars that appear as one because of their proximity).

Aurora: Latin for ‘the dawn’ Also Aurora Borialis and Aurora Australis

Venus: second planet in our solar system, named for the Roman goddess of love and beauty.

Boy:

Sirus:’burning brightly’ the brightest star in the galaxy.

Orion: ‘rising star’, also the hunter who perused the daughters of Atlas, and was killed by Artemis.

Leo: from the constellation, of course, and means ‘Lion’

Alioth: brightest star in Ursa Major, Arabic in origin, and translates to ‘fat tail of the sheep’

Altair: ‘the flying one’ , ‘soar’, or ‘fly’. 11th brightest star

Aries: means ‘the Ram’ in this case.

Badar: also Arabic in nature, it translates to ‘full moon’

Sky: yup after the thing above our heads… also possibly Skylar.

Jupiter: the 5th planet in the solar system, from the Greek equivalent to Zeus.

Diavolo:

Any child of royalty must have a name that carries power and prestige. It is a big thing to live up to as a child, growing into that powerful name, as well as being part of a royal legacy. It wouldn’t be any different for a child of Diavolo’s, although I can’t picture him being tyrannical about it, as he well knows the reality of growing up royal. Don’t worry though, we’re also there to give love and support to our little princes and princesses.

Girl:

Devina: ‘Beloved’ or ‘divine’

Keres: death spirits of Greek mythology

Persephone: Queen if the underworld

Hectate: goddess of witchcraft and dark magic

Kali: ‘black one’

Orla: ‘golden princess’

Rhiannon: divine queen

Raina: ‘queen’

Morrigan: ‘phantom queen’

Maelie: ‘princess’

Boy:

Erlick: Hungarian god of the underworld

Hades: Greek god of the underworld

Iblis: Islamic name of the devil

Azazel: supposedly a fallen Angel in Christianity

Erebus: God of darknesss

Alaric: all powerful ruler

Malik: ‘King’

Rory: ‘red king’

Mael: ‘chief or prince’

Regulus: prince

Ashur: ‘ruler of the gods’

Diablo: devil

Barbatos:

Our favorite butler isn’t so particular on what a name is, as opposed to why it was chosen. He will prefer names with a meaning rather how it sounds. He would want his children to have names with meanings that he wishes for them. Loyalty, faithfulness, intelligence, wisdom… all things that Barbatos values. You’ll have to help him find that balance, although, he already knows you’ll balance all things with him, you always do.

Girls:

Ivy: ‘faithfulness’

Leona: ‘loyal as a lion’

Athena: from the Greek goddess of war and wisdom

Veda: ‘sacred lore, knowledge’

Minerva: ‘of the mind, intellect’

Saga: ‘Story, seeress’

Kala: ‘Time’

Aikatarine: ‘each time’

Eternity: ‘time without end’

Boys:

Damond: ‘continuously loyal’

Leal: ‘loyal’

Cato: ‘knowledgeable and wise’

Sage: ‘wise’

Rainier: ‘wise army’

Lance: ‘servant’

Balam: means ‘possessor’ A powerful Prince of Hell, Balam was a demon who had the power to incite rebellion. It was said he had three heads, that of a bull, a man, and a ram. This allowed him to see past, present, and future events.

(I mean, it would track with our butler demon’s powers ;3)

Chronos: (or Kronos) ‘time’

Deon: ‘god of time’

Nye: ‘New time’

Simeon:

Our precious Angel… he knows how complicated your feelings for ‘Father’ are, so he won’t push for names of devotion… but you do have things in common, music and nature being two of them…

Girls:

Melody: ‘song’

River: as described, but if you’re a Whovian, you’ll get the reference to another River ;3 (and Melody also)

Allegea: ‘joyful song’

Serenity: ‘peace’

Meadow: as described

Summer: seasonal name

Autumn:seasonal name

Winter:seasonal name

Joy: great happiness

Aria: ‘song or melody’

Harmony: ‘blending of voices’

Boys:

Aubade: ‘morning love song’

Major: (as in key, not in battle)

Ronen: song

Lyric: words of a song

Piper: ‘one who plays the pipes or flute’

Gwydion: ‘born of trees’

Reed: ‘red-haired’ or ‘grass-like plants that grow in wet places’, also used on several types of woodwind instruments

Rowan: tree with red berries, or ‘little red-head’

Solomon:

Our sorcerer knows a thing or two about being a father already, although he has forgotten most of it. Behind that easy smile and ready chuckle is a profound sadness. He will undoubtedly be happy to welcome his child with you, and genuinely be thrilled… but you’ll notice that occasional sadness in his eyes. He’ll of course want an intelligent name for your little one.

Girls:

Abhijna: ‘remembrance, recollection, clever’

Halia: ‘In remembrance of a loved one’

Dara: ‘nugget of wisdom’

Quinn: ‘counselor &wise advisor’

Shannon: ‘old & wise’

Mika: ‘intelligent raccoon’

Cassidy: ‘clever’

Abby: ‘intelligent & beautiful’

Boys:

Conroy: ‘wise advisor’

Ethan: ‘strong’ but with wise connections

Favian: ‘man of wisdom’

Quinn: ‘counselor & wise advisor’

Apollo: Greco-Roman god of knowledge and wisdom

Senan: ‘old and wise’

Makenzie: ‘son of the wise ruler’

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

So let’s talk Patty Boyd, she one that was one of the main main models of the 1960s. She gained recognition in the film a hard days night(Beatles film) just Anita Pallenberg was with the Rolling Stones she was with the Beatles and that is how George Harrison met her on the set of a hard days night when she played a schoolgirl. She has a very interesting life story. Her sister was with the drama of Fleetwood Mac, Mick Fleetwood, they were both models she’s a Pisces and so is George it’s very interesting when you and your partner are the same time because they give us the same essence and you are the same essence in your sunshine. The rest of the chart can be a lot more complicated in all composite, so some of the best songs ever have been written about Patty Boyd, Layla, being the most well one and also you look wonderful tonight by Eric Clapton who stole Patty from George, but I don’t believe anybody can be stolen if the relationship is truly over and those two people have had enough of each other.

When it became the end of the relationship, Georgia got very into Indian culture and Harry Krishna. He was chanting around the house all the time when she was chaunting around the house when she was trying to get through to him, he cheated on her with Maureen Starkey, which was Ringo Starr‘s wife, which is very deceitful and very mean for her from both parties because her and Maureen were supposedly quite close, and also it was very wrong of George to do that to Ringo Ringo, who is a cancer Maureen who is a Leo which is very common for Leo women. They can’t always be a girls girl as much as they want to be. They won’t always be but let’s not forget that Patty did the same to George with Eric, even though that came as you later, and then what did Eric do to Patty he cheated on her too they both had the most beautiful woman in the world and they treated her not so we’ll.

Later on in her late years, she is not resentful of any of this, and she has wrote a book about all of the debacle and everything that happened in those times of her lives, and I believe that she has many happy memories 😌☀️🙏🌞💎🇬🇧🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 they love, George and Eric would’ve been attracted to patties exhalted Venus in Pisces, which squares her Gemini Mars, so her masculine energy brings out the bad of her feminine energy. I think astrology squares are more significant and oppositions, and there are a lot more difficult to deal with because for example, let’s say you’re a Leo a Scorpio, which squares you is going to make you feel uncomfortable they might make you feel less prideful. They might make you feel protective where is for a Scorpio and Leo Leo may make the Scorpio feel uncomfortable by being overconfident or by being oversensitive or by letting themselves be on show of who they really are, George was a Scorpio moon, Scorpio Moons, feel very intensely. They are very private. They are private about things that they should not maybe even be private about it is in detriment. Sorry it is in it fall . Hi rising sign is in Capricorn. His rising sign is in Libra, so they square each other so putting that together, his libra ascendant sat in her eighth house, so she could’ve had a lot of delusions about the relationship in a very dark and twisted way and she could’ve been controlled by that because his moon would’ve also been sat in the night house which was higher power higher learning on the Sagittarius household so those two placements were sitting together very closely, and when the moon and Neptune come closely together, you can have very unreal estate and delusions around relationships for her. That must’ve been very difficult, and I spoke, she had a whole life because she had it with Eric, too

For George, he is a libra rising and her ascendant is going to sit in his Hot ascendant is going to sit in his fourth house which is to do with family lineage heritage where you come from your roots and who you are as the person from a very young age. It also is the house that rules cancer so yeah we’ve Capricorn being here in the opposite sign. There might be some conflict there, but he is going to feel very deep connection to her emotionally, as I believe it’s the house of the moon some argue it’s the house of the father while some argue it’s the house of the mother but there’s a little interesting story for you about the Beatles. I’m sure many of you knew this already .

[noelssluttt]

Why do some gallavich non mosher Stan’s or Noel Stan’s act like Layla is always looking or acting cute & sweet??!

Like no u guys she’s neither cute or sweet! It’s just her being own old creepy stalking lurking everywhere self😀 and u so called Layla lovers make it seem like she’s some angel. And she also has no love/liking for you gallavich stans. It’s so tiring how so many ppl act like this women isn’t some old creepy GROOMER!

And did these so called fans forget how Layla showed her disliking for Cameron years ago when Shameless was on air, & gallavich was on the rise? And now when it’s not on air or trending anymore this women is showing fake love for Cameron and stalking him on IG…

Layla we know you’ll never stop lurking or stalking when it comes to Cam & noel 🫶🏼

Idk really before i knew too much about noel or even know anything i kind of felt weird about her but at the same time i just said ( oh cute ) when they post anniversary or being together

Not very sure what mede me not like her as much but most of the time I prefer ignoring her really

i can’t really fight her and talk to noel to know the details of their relationship

i still wish he could be free but that man is so annoyingly selfless it makes me want to hit him with something maybe he would hate humans after? ( selfless in their relationship not in general idk probably? He’s a people pleaser who knows)

I feel like i dislike madison these days more she kind of ruined modren art for me with her bs

did you see that shit she wrote thinking it was a poem? Please someone kill me

I hate rich people who think they’re talented and it annoys me that it’s an international

maybe dealing with talentless people around me who still succeed with doing the minimum made me feel negative emotions about her when i see her stuff

also when cam takes pictures of her 80% of the time he makes her look ugly because he doesn’t know how to take pictures of someone with her features he’s used to model girls he doesn’t get it still

so that make me laugh when i see it that man is not good with shadows and make her look like a frog a lot of the time

[ricosbrainrot]

adding to this because I feel like I have to as your average gbbo watcher:

• all of his bakes are also vegan to keep with kosher—he’s a whiz at whisking up aquafaba

• he’s constantly talking about layla on the show (“my love’s favorite dessert …” + “layla really loves these flavors …” + “she’s been my biggest support this whole competition”)

• has probably the lowest confidence of all the competitors but he’s genuinely really good at what he does?? he has all of the technical/basics down but what really stands out are his flavors since he doesn’t stick to common British flavors

• has definitely fallen asleep while only waiting for something to bake during a technical and everyone was like “??” how tf is he sleeping right now

• one time he wore his glasses during an episode and all the viewers were like 🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️🧍🏻‍♀️

• no one knows he has DID but sometimes Steven jokes about “having a little voice in his head helping him” and it’s just Marc and Jake yelling at Steven to not forget to pre-heat the oven since he forgot to during the very first signature

• HAS WON BREAD WEEK I WILL NOT ARGUE ON THIS his vegan challah cleared EVERYONE (dessert week was iffy for him because of setting since he can’t use gelatin)

• he makes a point to base all of his bakes on his travels and doesn’t just stick to classic British bakes

• he’s made at least one dessert dedicated to his loved ones though he never names them (has definitely made a dessert dedicated to marc but was like “this is dedicated to a close friend of mine who’s always been there for me since we were kids” 🥹)

• the judges cannot handle the intensity of his flavors most of the time (they probably couldn’t handle a bottle of ketchup either) but Steven continues to do whatever flavors he wants

• somehow has really delicate and elaborate bakes but he can be very jumpy—tries not to let the stress get to him (using the “swan” analogy they love to use on gbbo)

I wrote way too much for this but anyway

Crack fic thought of the day: Steven competing in the Great British Bake Off. HCs include but are not limited to:

Becoming a fan favorite due to his obvious enthusiasm, rumpled academic vibes, and general sweetheart nature

Although there is Discourse about his accent

Favors historical and especially Egyptian themed bakes

Lovingly recreating the precise lemon tart he had on holiday in the country and hasn’t stopped thinking about since (the fact that he shared it with Layla has absolutely nothing to do with that, thank you very much)

Is absolutely one of the people on the floor in front of their oven

Doing really well in the Signatures (he practices a lot)

Being slightly too ambitious in the Showstoppers, but gaining a reputation for gorgeously impressive cakes with thoughtful details (his necropolis cake was a surprise favorite)

Getting flustered in a Technical to the point that Marc takes the wheel which… is not an improvement

Jake takes over and executes the directions so flawlessly that they come in first

Feel free to add on to this absolute nonsense 😂

[saikokirakira]

Request for our moon bois

Their reaction to you always taking care of your apperance like long af nails, snatched makeup and killer outfits? 🤤🤤🤤

a/n: ooooh, first ask on the blog. i really appreciate it. 🥺🥺 ngl i'm on the ropes on this one. those reading, tell me you like it or i'll cry. 🥲🥲

i didn’t know if you meant Bakunawa!reader or just a general one, so i did the former. you can only notice the au references if you squint anyways, but feel free to shoot me another request. 😊😊

warnings: just fluff; mild sexual references (if you squint); steven being a cinnamon bun; marc being sassy and emotionally constipated; jake being a simp king

Steven Grant (would focus on the dress)

You were often invited to art galas and gallery unveilings due to your line of work.

That means you had to keep up with appearances, especially during black tie events.

Sometimes, if schedules between Marc and Jake allowed him, he would always be your plus one.

Yet you also had that small bit of joy dressing up outside of work just for its own sake.

Knowing his reaction to Layla’s armor during the Cairo incident, he would forget everything else and decide to fawn over you.

“Darling, you look absolutely beautiful. Your nails – they can poke an eye out – but they are a gorgeous accent to that clutch bag.”

Among the others, Steven had a better eye on style, and if he wasn’t so fidgety and often self-deprecating, he would fit in with the socialites without question.

“Isn’t it a little too much?”

You gave him a little twirl and posed for him, sticking out your leg to show off the high slit of your evening dress.

Steven shook his head, a little too aggressively that sent his curls flying.

“No! It’s perfect. A little too perfect,” he muttered that last part.

Oh? You smiled slyly and slowly made your way to him.

Steven’s cheeks warmed at your movements, so graceful that he thought you were gliding across the wooden floor of his flat in those heels and flowy dress.

 Steven couldn’t gasp out the allurement you had on him when you pressed your palm to his cheek.

The tips of your long nails tickled the start of his hairline, and he inwardly groaned at the thought of you running your fingers through his curls and scratching at his scalp.

You were about to lean in when Steven painfully pulled away.

“Come on, darling. We’re gonna be late. Let me grab my jacket, and I’ll be good to go.”

A serpentine hiss escaped from your deep red lips, something Steven thankfully missed.

“I’ve been thinking of skipping. Let’s just have a night in.”

Steven looked at you with that wide-eyed lost puppy look.

“Don’t be silly, darling. I can’t wait for them to mistake you as the painting with how gorgeous you look.”

It was only until the elevator ride down did Marc and Jake yelled at him from the reflections over how he completely missed your invitation to stay in.

Marc Spector (would focus on the nails)

Would be very snarky about them at the beginning.

“How can you even hold a paintbrush with those? Much less your tenegre swords?”

In between missions, you may have to replace your nails, quite often, but with you kept them as long as you could…

… and sometimes even enough to inflict serious damage.

Bakunawa is a very proud deity, sometimes rivaling Khonshu if you would ignore the self-righteousness.

His prideful serpent-like behavior rubbed off on you by killer outfits and makeup that often resemble the scales that grew a place in your heart over the past months.

Maybe the outfits and makeup you saved on special occasions, but the nails were a constant.

Marc would never admit it, but he loves it when your nails change very often.

It reminds him how beautiful you are but can also be lethally dangerous.

The first time he found out about your frequent trips was when he went on a frenzy looking all over for you in London.

You mentioned you would be at the art studio that day, but the old man there said it was your day off.

Why would you lie?

Did Harrow’s crazy disciples find you again? What if it was someone from your village who managed to track you down?

But no.

You were chatting and giggling with a nail aesthetician who you were talking with in your native tongue at a high-end salon in downtown London.

You specifically turned to her because she was the Crawley to your Steven, and not many people in London would notice your incessant babbling over your three boyfriends… and your girlfriend who is always away on business trips.

Marc wanted to be mad, but he could settle being annoyed for now.

He knew why you lied. It was now his chance to be honest about it.

About how you actually looked hot with those nails.

How he was happy for you that you had some semblance of self-care after you go on missions with him and Khonshu.

Maybe he’ll tell you those words later.

Or maybe not.

“Was that your boyfriend just now?”

You smiled and continued to glance at him walking away and back down the street from the mirror.

“Yep. He’s just being a worry-tart. Always.”

“What design are we going for this week?”

“Something white and gold. Maybe a lunar design.”

Jake Lockley (would notice your makeup)

Jake is obsessed with your body, especially your face.

He could stare at your eyes for forever if he could.

One of his favorite moments are mornings after you stay the night.

He would just watch you from across the bed doing your makeup while holding a handheld mirror.

Jake offered once to hold the mirror for you.

You ended up being late for a meeting with your client because he became a little too distracting with all his eye-fucking staring.

He knows you love glitter and how you never skip on putting shimmers.

And he knows you know that he absolutely loves when you go out with the body glitters and chunky glitters.

Jake loves when your scales from Bakunawa’s iridescent armor emerge and shimmer into an array of colours under the lights.

Something about the power and confidence it holds.

It makes him want to worship you more than he already does.

So when you try to replicate that look during fancy galas, it would take all of his self-control to keep his hands on the wheel when he drives you both to the venue.

However, when the event is over, it’s all fair game.

You would be his own personal art show.

Because that is what you are to Jake.

Something to be revered, a feast for the eyes, art.

Often times, Jake wouldn’t even do anything but just hold you – skin-on-skin contact.

As the protector alter, Jake was often stern and always on alert.

But with you in his arms, all the tension in his body leaves by staring at something so beautiful as you.

[jakekgs]

can you pls do enha’s reaction to you forgetting to say i love you to?? ☺️

enhypen (hyung line)’s reaction to, forgetting to say ‘i love you too’

i see this all the time so yes!! here’s my take :,) let me know if you want the maknae line ver <3

HEESEUNG | 희승

“babe,” he’d shout since he has no idea where you were in the apartment. “i’m heading to the store, i love you!”

“drive safe!” in your defence, the book you were currently reading was far more immersive than you had originally thought it to be, and the tension within the romance had you wanting to be able to see through the pages to get to them quicker </3

literally moments later, he’d burst open the door to your shared bedroom. catching your attention right away, and looking up you let out a small laugh at the frown line between his brows, unaware of his dilemma (wink).

“what happened?”

“…in the book or?”

“i just said i love you.” he’d look at you as though you’d just grown an extra limb in front of him.

“i know you love me… i also heard you and now i’m just confused.”

“well you didn’t say it back so.. i thought something might’ve happened.” :((( r u kidding i’m tearing up

SO MANY HUGS N KISSES FOR HIM!!! <333

JAY | 제이

“i love you, i’m sorry i have the leave in the middle of our movie marathon.” crouches down so that he can hold your hands in his, seeing as you were planning on finishing a different movie by yourself on the sofa.

“i get it, jay, really.” squeezing his hands for reassurance. “stop apologising and hurry! you’re gonna be late.”

“you’re right,” he really doesn’t want to Leave so he’ll stand up slow as hell. grabs his keys while watching you like a sad puppy :( “i love you.”

“mhm,” your gaze remained on the screen. “don’t be home too late, ‘kay? you have practice really early tomorrow–“

this boy is now standing in front of your tv.

“i— jay? hey, i’m trying to watch that!”

“y/n, i am not the person to pull this prank on.” looking up at him with pure confusion but still hitting him with your pillow.

“what prank? jay, please! i think they’re about to confess their feelings—“

“YAH! I SAID I LOVE YOU NOW SAY IT BACK!”

“I LOVE YOU TOO NOW STOP SHOUTING AN MOVE—!”

JAKE | 제이크

“y/n? i’m taking layla for her walk, you wanna come with?”

“can’t! i have too much work to catch up on!”

pretty much everyone in this situation are in different rooms and shouting okay GO WITH IT.

“alright, bye, i love you.”

“bye! stay safe!”

two puppies practically run into your room and jake throws his arms around you from behind, scaring you enough to make you drop your pen onto your desk.

“did something happen?” he’d mutter into your hair, his hands running up and down your arms comfortingly. “i can usually read you really well and i thought you were fine, stressed, but—“

“baby what are you talking about?” when you turn around in your chair he’s just stood there :( with that frown on his face :(

“please talk to me, i’m not leaving you on your own if you’re upset.”

“jake, what?”

“you didn’t say it back so i thought you were mad at me.”

SAY IT BACK. HUG HIM. KISS HIM SO HARD 💔

SUNGHOON | 성훈

“there’s my girl, did you miss me?” he’d come home from a long day of practice, finding you in the kitchen making ramen.

“no idea how i survived without you, actually.”

“i don’t love your sarcasm but i do love you,” he kisses the top of your head. “i’m gonna shower.”

“mhm.” you hum. “want me to leave you some ramen?”

he’s lingering by the door at this point, watching you closely- you of course are far too invested in the development of you long awaited ramen noodles to pay attention to him. “sure,” he’s dragging out his words by this point. “i love you.”

“mm, hurry with your shower i need to get in after you.”

looking at you all ‘🥺’ but with that frown he has when he’s confused </3 will say he loves you a couple more times but gets ignored. (note to yn: don’t do that!)

“yah! y/n!” shouts so loud and so abruptly you scream, almost dropping your ramen whilst attempting to plate it, burning yourself on the pan in the process. “baby! oh my god, i’m so sorry i—“

“it’s okay, it was an accident.” he’s holding your hand under the cold tap by this point.

“if you were mad at me, you’d tell me right?”

“what and miss the opportunity to have clingy hoon? of course i would.” moment of silence for yn’s ability to pick up on hints… “wait, wait– where’s this coming from?”

“you didn’t say it back.” “hoon, i love you more than anything.” smiles like he’d won a medal, he’s proud of himself.

“does this mean you’ll shower with me?”

i would.

masterlist, requests.

(unofficial taglist) @blessed-sky

© JAKEKGS 2022

[brainrotcharacters]

Name Me

ship: Steven Grant x introvert!fem!reader

unofficial part 1 because it’s ur choice i’m just writing over here damn :/

a/n: to the past me that doubted Steven as a dual wielder, HEY. HEY. YOU STUPID.

word count: 2171

tags: Steven vs reader's parents, obvious avoidance of a last name, Steven fighting as Mr. Knight, reader gets kidnapped, crime + violence + blood because it is the spine of every superhero project ever, idk how sedatives and adrenaline shots work, reader is also a dual wielder.

--

"Where is she?"

Steven blinked at the sight of your parents at his doorway. A spot at the base of his spine shifted. Wait.

The moment they swing, Steven...

The facial features that reminded him of you looked tense and guarded under the dusk light through the hall's window. True to his past in the business, your father controlled his expression. Your mother's eyes flitted between every possible entryway, a hand to the gun holster at her side.

Steven shifted on his feet to match their movements. "Good evening, Mister and Missus--"

Your father shoved past him, crossing the flat in strides. He took one look at the messy shelves, Egyptian antiques, and the ring of sand around Steven's bed before he bellowed your name.

"She's not here, sir." Steven's stern tone fell unheard. He was actually off to the location that Layla gave him, one step ahead from the parents who now spiraled into panic before his eyes.

"I don't believe you," your father practically spat at him. Steven did not flinch, nor did he look away or change his stance. "You never liked us. Ever since she brought you home, I thought there was something off about you. You would take the first opportunity to have her for yourself."

She wouldn't mind. Marc said. He knew Steven agreed.

"Steven," your mother's smoother voice floated from outside, "If you know anything, you have to tell us."

"I do, actually." Steven allowed himself to be calm now, and not later. "They reached out to me. The kidnappers told me where she was taken." a less specific, more exposed area than what Layla provided, but Steven felt good about himself today.

"Why would they tell you?"

"Hey," your mother aimed at your father, using a similar grounded tone to yours whenever Steven or Marc spiraled too quickly, too deeply. "Focus. Steven, where?"

Seeing the opportunity to piss off your father, Steven faced your mother completely as he shared the location.

On his way out, your father snarled. "After this, you and her are over. The kidnappers bothered with you to buy themselves more time because they know her parents are coming. I'll kill them all, you understand me? You can't protect her the way I can."

Steven watched them walk away, before releasing a heavy sigh. "That last part hurt me a bit, not gonna lie."

Forget about it. Let's go.

The suit of Mr. Knight began to wrap around Steven's regular clothes. "You don't expect me to believe you haven't thought about it, do you, mate?"

Steven, please. Shut up.

"We're talking about this later."

The mask covered Steven's face.

--

"How many does this make?" you giggled as another syringe full of sedative was lifted within your blurry vision. "You have to give me the list of doses. This is the best sleep I've had in a while."

"Is that why you're so happy?" the ringleader, a brown haired young man, stepped closer. The exits of the warehouse were blocked from your vision. "I've never met someone who wants to be sedated before."

"I thought you knew what my father was like?"

He shrugged, watching as a different syringe was injected into the side of your neck. A pained groan slipped past your mouth as you lean into the singular pole you were bound to. You could have sworn you felt the fluid rush into your veins.

"I know he's a man of science, so I wonder: what happens to his beloved daughter when, after five days of being sedated, takes epinephrine on the sixth day?"

Your eyes shot up, head rushing with the movement. "You just gave me adrenaline?"

He steps away, motioning to the snipers and the fighters. "Your father was amazing at what he did, and he enjoyed it. Then he got married and had you, a sweet little thing whose childhood couldn't be more different to his. But you're still of one blood."

"It's still red. Trust me."

A punch from a different direction caused you to keel over, spit and blood mixing on the stone at your feet.

The leader vaguely considered the mess. "So it is."

--

Your parents have been subdued - not without numerous gunshot wounds and dislocated, broken, shattered bones sustained by the enemy, but they were still put down. To your left, your father is heavily bound and gagged, knuckles torn and bloody from the countless punches he landed. Across the floor to your right, your unconscious mother is bound in rope, faced away from the both of you.

The leader watched sweat trickle down your face. You could've sworn you could smell his disappointment. "You burned through the sedatives, but nothing more. The adrenaline could stand to increase your heart rate until it eventually collapses."

"Y-You want me to..." you swallow, trying to soothe your drying throat. "My father to watch m-me die, that's it? That's a bit weak, yeah dad?"

Your father fought against the chains, looking between your faces. The young man that he scorned considered you. "I know it's weak, Y/n. It's the greatest insult I can deal your family."

Slow, leisurely footsteps echoed against the walls of the warehouse.

"Stop right there!" Both enemy and ally turned to see Mr. Knight, adjusting the cufflinks of his suit as his pace quickened. The white of his clothes stood out in the middle of the dark crates of drugs across the space, as well as the night sky behind his head. Steven heard Marc gasp. No. Sweetheart, what did they do to you? Steven took all of one second to glance in your direction before he swung a fist at the closest gang member, then kicked his friend in the chest. Gunshots rang across the space, peppering the suit with red spots that stopped spreading after a while. Unbothered, Steven fished out a single crescent blade, slashing at the next knee and next elbow that came too close. His other hand wrapped around a baton, striking sides of heads and some ribs. Someone slapped the blade away from his hand and landed a punch on Steven's face. Steven swung his weapon at the man's ribs, using his  momentum to spin to his back and shove him away. The next crescent blade flew into the leader's confused face, burying into the underside of his left eyebrow. The force of Steven's throw knocked him to the ground, face up towards the ceiling as dark red blood burst from the wound. Everyone paused. Despite the mask, you could tell Steven scowled at the splatter of your blood on the floor as he rushed towards you. "What did they do to you?" "Adrenaline-- sedative, then adrenaline..." you shook your head erratically, grabbing his crescent blade to begin to cut through the ropes around your wrists. "I'm fine. Help them, please?" Steven freed your father first, and he burst into motion towards the dead leader. Your mother had been woken by the ruckus, and studied Steven critically. The sound of tearing rope drew their attention towards you as you took two staggering steps. Steven noticed your tense shoulders and heaving back before he saw how dilated your pupils had gotten. You were staring at the gang members who raised their guns and fists once again, ready. "Shall we?" he offers with an outstretched hand, both of his batons appearing now. You clutched his crescent blade, and moved to find yourself a gun. You moved as quickly as you could think. Marc took a moment to mention it, after you dodged several bullets and hurled the blade at the gunner's neck. You simply giggled, taking a common dagger and marking your next target. After a particularly beautiful swing across someone's chest, a massive hand clamped down on your wrist. The barrel of your handgun nestled against the man's neck before you pulled the trigger, already using your right elbow against another face instead of wasting time seeing the damage. When the ground was littered with bodies and you still ached for more, you knew this adrenaline would take a while to wear off. You focused on gathering your parents to you, in the same beat that Mr. Knight jogged to your side. You noticed your parents try to block him from you, and easily swiveled around, reaching for your boyfriend. Steven opened his arms and held you in an embrace, lifting you from the ground as he sighed in contentment. "We thought we lost you." "Just beg Taweret again. You're her favorite." you joked, and Steven released you from his hold with a chuckle. "Y/n," your mother's voice trailed off, and you turn to see them looking between you two. Steven squared his shoulders. In that suit, your mind swan dived for the gutter. How nasty did you have to be to provoke him like that, to make him begin to take you seriously in a simple, minimal action tantamount to fixing his suit mid-fight or rolling his sleeves up? Something about that wall at the corner of your vision suddenly looked inviting. He looked at you, and your focus sharpened. "Go ahead. Say my name." he considered. "If you want." If you wanted two more people in your life to know that Steven was perfectly capable of protecting you. If you were willing to let your parents know that whenever they watched him concentrating on a book or his Rubik's cube, he committed a similar level of intent to each cut and strike he dealt the people here tonight - and would deal to anyone else who tried to take you away from him. Wouldn't want to get Taweret in too much trouble, after all.   You took a steadying breath, looking between him and your parents with shining eyes. "Steven." His mask fell away into his collar, curly hair bouncing a bit. His familiar brown eyes were bright with adoration as he scanned your face, then turned towards your parents. "I knew you sounded familiar," your mother muttered, running a hand across her face. "B-But why-how...?" Your father closed his mouth, clearing his throat as he moved towards the entrance. "Let's go." -- Steven's flat became more interesting to your parents as Layla's voice was heard through the screen. "I think I should stay in town for a little while longer next time." "You're making me look forward to having you back." Steven handed you a glass of water before settling down beside you on the bed. You ignored the cautious glares from your parents. "I don't like to worry about any of you halfway across the world." she frowned. "I'm not good at it." You smiled, feeling your energy levels dip down. "We'll keep our phones close." "Promise me." Marc giggled, a sense of nostalgia at Layla's stern tone tugging at him to front. "We promise. Love you, baby." "We love you, Layla." Her eyes softened at your fond tone. "I love you guys. Bye." Once the call ended, your mother lifted a picture frame. "This is her? Layla?" And it was the critique in her tone, the crispness she used to enunciate the two syllables that made you lean into the solid presence at your side. "Steven." He took a moment, and then stood from the bed. His English accent sounded so polite. "If that'd be all, I'm sure you still need to check your own house, just in case? We all know Y/n struggles to relax in a room filled with people." Your mother opened her mouth as if to retort when your father leveled a look at her. Then he shifted his attention to you, debating if you would accept a hug or a kiss from him as of now.   "Let us know when you feel better," he led the way out. "We need to make sure this doesn't happen again." Steven followed slowly. Your mother went on ahead, and your father turned to face him. "I'm sorry." Steven allowed him the silence to consider. "All I want is for her to be safe. You have to understand that." "To understand you? I could never." 

Steven. Even as Marc reprimands him, Steven heard the amusement in his voice.

All right. "I'm not her dad, I'm her boyfriend. I can't begin to fathom what it's like to care for another person like that, but I do understand caring about her." When your father sighed at the words, Marc encouraged Steven to continue. "I'm not trying to take her away from you. I wouldn't do that to her." Those were the exact words that should be running through his mind when he thinks about forcing you and Steven apart. Your father drew in a deep breath, and clapped a solid hand on Steven's shoulder. Then, he strode away. Steven looked back to see you laid down on the bed, half awake against the pillows. He slides into the space beside you, gathering you in his arms. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in his scent. "Smells like a friendship between you and my dad." He hummed, brushing your hair with a hand.

[ser-rctslcyer]

👄 for marc

❤ for steven

☁️ for jake

💍 for moonscarab uwu

THE BOYS!!! MOONSCARAB MY BELOVEDS!!!!!

[lovely icons are done by @stcrdsticons​ so if you want em (or even cuter ones) please head over there and like/rb em!!!]

👄 : A kiss headcanon

Soft 

His kisses are the sweetest thing to experience. They’re slow, meaningful and most importantly, soft. He’s gentle with you, not out of fear but because that’s just who he is-- a nice ol’ teddy bear!

He wants to take his time, exploring your mouth with his tongue, savoring every little noise you make. No matter what type of kiss it is-- his hand usually ends up on your cheek, thumb brushing gently over it. His own little sounds leaving him the longer he kisses you because he’s drowning in you. If you tug him any closer (even though the two of you are close already) he’ll whine, melting completely into the kiss. He doesn’t initiate most kisses between you, letting you set the pace to whatever you desire; he wants whatever you can give him and boy, do you give him your heart. 

He loves you so much, every second with you he wants to cherish. 

+ Moonscarab

When he kisses Layla, it’s everything he’s ever wanted. She’s gentle with him yet firm, kissing him like nothing else matters-- which is true. She keeps him grounded, brushing her thumb across his jaw and tugging at his curls. He melts, holding onto her hips desperately as she kisses him like he’s the last thing on earth.

Layla loves his kiss, they’re the sweetest thing she’s ever imagined. For his grumpy exterior, there’s nothing but passion between his lips and her heart pounds harder. Everything with him is tender and affectionate; it warms her from the inside-- it makes her feel at home. So she can’t help but steal a kiss whenever she can, just to feel loved and enjoy the little smile that stretches across his lips. 

❤ : A romantic headcanon

Memory

It might not seem too romantic but he is very good at remembering things for you. Whether it’s appointments, off days, anything and all sort of actives you have to do; he will remember them for you. He’s very sweet about it, verbally reminding you, texting it to you-- anything. Sometimes he’ll leave you pretty written notes, if he leaves before you or if the boys will be out on any sort of superhero business. It’s honestly amazing how he remembers it all but you adore it because he’s so sweet about it (”bit of a human planner, ye?” <- steven when you bring it up to him).

He also is very good remembering things you tell him; your likes/dislikes, movies you love, and foods you enjoy. He knows it all by heart and it’s the sweetest thing when you’re having a bad day. He knows all your comfort items and will bring them to you happily, cuddling you and doing whatever he needs to make you feel better. 

+ Moonscarab

Layla, also a busy body, isn’t as forgetful as Steven but there a few things that tend to slip her mind. Luckily, all she has to do is ask Steven (or he will come up to her) and he’s always got the answer. She loves it honestly, the way he’ll perk up and respond; quickly volunteering if it’s something she could use help on. She praises him every time and Steven will beam, because he loves being helpful.  

She nearly cried the first time she came home to a warm plate of her favorite food on the table, and a out-cooked Steven who’s smiling so wide as she enjoys it. She knows she told him about it is surprised he made it perfectly and he admits he had a little help from Jake and her mother. She flings herself into his arms and thanks him in sweet kisses. 

☁️ : A soft headcanon

Wrist

Jake wasn’t the biggest hand holder when you met him. You never asked why but respected his space and that was that. As feelings developed, Jake would sit closer to you on the couch, he became fine with cuddles in bed; only making the two of you crave the building intimacy more. You could tell he was still too hesitant but it wasn’t until one day, you felt his fingers wrap gently around your wrists; simply holding it. After that, the rest was history.

He held your wrists, tenderly, letting his finger rub lightly over your veins which feels oddly nice. He does it when the two of you are cuddling in bed, tucked behind you and rubbing small circles onto them. He’s always got the same soft look in his eyes when he does and you can’t help but love it. He does this when he drives you both somewhere.  He does this when the two of you go out, walking through crowded streets, tapping his finger gently against your wrist. It’s his version of holding your hands and you adore it. 

+ Moonscarab

Layla was more than happy to get to know Jake. His jokes and sass were enough to make her fall head over heels him. But much like Marc, he’s got walls up that don’t let him enjoy being wanted. It isn’t till one lonely night driving back from “avatar work” he reaches out and grabs her wrist. At first, she expected him to say something but he keeps his eyes on the road, jaw clenched. So she uses her free hand to brush her thumb over his knuckles and he calms down. She loves the way she holds her wrist, keeping her tucked to his side as they walk to streets of Cairo. 

💍 : A marriage headcanon

[just doing this as a big ol poly party with reader cause this is long ahaha]

Affectionate

These four are massive cuddlers, no matter what two of them say (Marc and Jake). Being in a relationship with them all, there’s many of soft touches shared all the time. It’s nice really receiving soft hugs from behind, someone holding your hand, or kisses on cheek or lips. It’s always a give and share, sometimes it you and the boys smothering Layla in love, others just you and Layla showing giving the boys all your appreciation, and the Layla and the boys making sure you know their affections. It’s the best feeling for all of you, to know you’re wanted. 

Send me emjois and characters if you dare :)

[sadlittlebear-sometimes-beatrash]

After you figure it out, you’re really f****** angry. Ideas for Moonknight S2

Hey, hi, hello.

Here’s a dive into Moonknight’s S1 take on trauma healing and what I think would be interesting to explore/expand on in S2. 

Moonknight season one maps pretty cleanly onto trauma healing therapy when you’ve got structural dissociation: 

Learn that you are experiencing patterns of dissociation 

Recognize that something traumatic has happened. 

Get on the same page about what actually happened/why. 

Differentiate between past/present, over/on-ongoing, sense/nonsense.

The stakes often are life and death, or everything that matters to you.

Protector parts are vulnerable too, particularly to exploitation by others. 

The dissociation was a tool/skill/superpower that saved you. 

You can learn to work with yourself(s). 

Figuring out what happened to you is only the beginning of healing.

Dissociation is a freeze response when you can’t escape or fight when the trauma is ongoing: You disassociate both from what is happening (steven) and from your natural impulses to run/fight (jake), so you can endure and survive (marc). 

With that framework, it makes perfect sense that they didn’t unpack Jake in season one. You need to figure out what is happening first before you can process how you feel about it. And how you feel about it is probably very very angry. 

Anger feels dangerous and scary especially if you’ve repressed it because you’ve been told it was wrong or bad. Even more so if you’ve had people in your life whose anger made you unsafe. It made sense to me that Marc would avoid Jake, consciously or unconsciously. 

Season two could be about how Jake and Marc can’t reconcile on how to go forwards. They’ve been seriously harmed by people who were supposed to care for them, those people haven’t been held accountable, and it's not fair that they have to move on without recourse. 

It is also incredibly important the process of seeking justice is incredibly traumatizing. Marc especially has a lifetime of experience being blamed, invalidated, and failed by the institutions that were supposed to help him. It  makes sense that Marc would want to put everything behind him and just move on. 

As for characterization/arcs:

Everything I’ve read about anger says that it’s there to help you. It defends you, it keeps you from internalizing and accepting things that aren’t fair. It can be destructive and scary but it’s also protective and good. I think it would be really interesting to explore being unable to move on with Jake’s character (particularly if they have to wrestle with their own history of violence/avoidance in the process). 

Steven’s character is vulnerable in ways that Marc and Jake aren’t and comparatively inexperienced — it must feel intimidating. Steven struggling with his role in their system and learning to fight/ handle conflict in less physically violent ways would fit with this arc. 

Steven was the one who asked Layla and Tawret for help. He’s the only one in their system who hasn’t internalized that it’s dangerous to be vulnerable. He could be the one who could help them navigate through the process of sorting helpful/unhelpful shame, deserved/undeserved blame, and ultimately forgiveness and reconciliation.

So there:

Jake as system defender/detective — Good and just and the right amount of scary. Untrusting of conventional systems of justice, and unwilling to forgive and forget. Focused on finding and holding the bad guys accountable. 

Steven as a brilliant negotiator/protector — Being shielded from the trauma didn’t make him weak and naive, it gives their whole system an advantage. He’s not afraid to talk back to authority or to ask for help, and he’s not a liability.  

Marc as a very complex troubled man — Wrestling between mercy and vengeance, accountability and forgiveness, and all the complexities that go along with being involved with trauma and justice. 

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Complications and Solutions: Chapter 2

Summary:

Relations with Steven get heated and then crash and burn. Layla realises what it really means to be with a system and old feelings are hurt.

Has Jake decided Layla is a threat after all?

Pairings: Marc x Layla. Steven x Layla. Jake x Layla.

Warnings: Minor sexual language. Minor hints of past abuse.

Warnings for future chapters: There are going to be some talks about sex. Nothing hard core, but they will talk about it. Future chapters are also going to discuss some really deep stuff, relationship stuff, and DID/DR/DP stuff. Warnings will be at the start of each chapter.

Word Count: 3,558

Previous Chapter HERE (seriously who starts with chapter two?)

---

Layla really wished there was an instruction book for this sort of thing. 

Dinner was so scarily normal that she could almost forget that there was anything abnormal. Steven alternated in gazing at her with utter love and babbling about the newest documentary he watched on unearthing ancient tombs. 

Of course these tombs did not have scary mummy creatures there to guard things or old angry gods out to destroy the world. 

She loved the way Steven looked at her. Like she was the only person on earth in that moment. 

They chatted about anything and everything as if they were old friends picking up a shared interest right where it was left off. She got to excitedly talk about the latest artifacts she had tracked down and he listened intently as she discussed their importance and proper history. He talked about his new focus on research topics and which authors seemed to know their things and which were just regurgitating old facts. 

They talked about everything except for the important things. When dinner was all said and done, she couldn’t help but notice that neither of them had really talked about themselves. 

Once back at the flat, she sat on the couch and pulled him down next to her. Moving to curl up into him, she draped his arm around her shoulders warmly. 

“How are you doing, Steven? Really, I mean. You were just getting used to Marc and then suddenly there’s someone else. It has to be a lot, doesn’t it?” She looked up at him, watching as he looked anywhere but at her. 

“Oh, I’m doing alright. You know, for a man that’s got two other men in his ol’ noggin. Could be worse.” Steven smiled and jiggled his leg. He didn’t know what to do with his hand, holding it out awkwardly away from her. She reached up and took it gently, holding it and stroking it soothingly. 

“Are they treating you well?” She knew Steven was in no way a push over, but he was also far too kind at times and willing to give too much to make others happy. 

“Of course!” Steven looked up at her. “You know, we have been doing a lot of figuring things out and trying to split our time and let everyone do their thing… Whatever their thing is. Of course I don’t really have a job anymore. Lost it when Marc vandalized the toilets. Doubt I could set foot in a museum in London again. Probably got my picture up on the no admittance board.” 

“That’s a shame.” Layla looked up at him. “I guess there’s no way to undo that… Did you want to go back? Work at the gift shop again?” 

“Well, no.” Steven sighed. “How can I just go back to selling inappropriate sweets and toys to children after all that? Wasn’t the job I wanted anyway. Just kind of the one I fell into… If I did fall into it. I can’t really remember anymore. Like it was just waiting for me. I think Marc got me the job and I just sort of…Went with the script.” 

“Do any of you have a job?” She gave him a worried look. The last thing they needed was to worry about how they were going to pay for things. Then again, she wondered how a job might work for them too. She really couldn't see Marc being able to work in the same capacity as Steven. 

“I think Jake has a job.” Steven looked away, jiggling his leg harder. “He goes off sometimes and says he has to work. He’s got his own license and all. It looked legit.” 

“You don’t know what he does?” 

“No. He won’t let us near the front area when he’s working. Said he’s afraid we’ll slip in by accident and cause problems. I get it. I wouldn’t want to mess up his job. Not after what happened with me…” Steven looked down. 

She wasn’t sure she liked this set up, but she wasn’t going to rock the boat. They had to figure some things out for themselves. It was their life, after all. 

“I’m sorry, Steven. I didn’t mean to bring you down.” She gently lay a hand on his leg and he stilled it. “You know, you can come to me if you feel like you need help with anything. If they aren’t treating you fairly or if you need to vent… I promise I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to.” 

Steven looked at her hand on his leg. “It’s fine. It really is. We’ve had some ups and downs. Marc took it pretty roughly when he found out and then we all fought a little. Sorta like finding out you suddenly have to share a room with your siblings when you were used to having your own space.” 

“It’s been such a short time.” She stroked his knee gently. “No one is expecting you to suddenly have all the answers or know how to handle this.” 

Steven nodded. “Yeah. I think Marc was sort of hoping that he’d be the expert. Jake can be a bit bossy sometimes too. He’s used to just sort of taking charge when he needs to.” 

“And you?” Layla smiled up at him. “You seem to be taking all this pretty well this time around.” 

“Well this time around I know what’s going on. Not left thinking I’ve got some sort of bloody demon possessing me or that I’m losing my mind.” He grinned. “Things make a lot more sense when you’re let in on the joke.”

“I still can’t believe he didn’t even try to explain it to you.” Layla sighed and shook her head. 

“Yeah well, that’s just how Marc is.” Steven smiled. “He’s not really good with explaining things. Neither is Jake, honestly. I must have been the one gifted with that part of the brain. They got the brooding and I got the ability to communicate.” 

“I love that about you, Steven.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You don’t feel the need to hide things. If something’s on your mind you just let it out.” 

Steven gave a weak smile. “Not always. Sometimes I worry too much and don’t ask for what I really want…” 

“Are you worrying now?” She searched his eyes, taking in the way he hesitated before meeting her gaze. 

“A little…” Steven admitted. “We never really got to talk about how it would be with you.” 

“With me?” She sat up slightly so she could look at him fully. 

“Well you know… You’ll eventually want to live with Marc again, right? Move in here or have us go there or somewhere else. But… Isn’t it weird to go to bed and not know who you’re going to wake up with?” He looked away. “And then there’s… Being close.” 

“I don’t mind the whole going to bed thing. I love you and Marc. Maybe it might get a little weird with Jake but we can figure that out.” She gave him a sly smile. “And what about being close?” 

At times she couldn’t help but love his innocence. How much he blushed and how she could always see that desperate need to be seen and touched and acknowledged. 

Steven nervously took her hand. “You know… Close…You and me… That kind of close.” 

She leaned in and nuzzled his cheek. “This kind of close?” 

His breath escaped him slowly. “Closer.” He reached up and lay a hand gently on her shoulder, slowly sliding it back to stroke the back of her neck under her hair. 

Her own breath escaped her as she felt his fingertips lightly trace down her spine. She shifted and slowly pushed him back till he was half laying back on the couch with her on top of him. “Steven…” 

He looked up at her with wide eyes, unsure yet wanting. 

She looked down at him, taking in how open his face was. She could read the emotion there so easily. He was scared yet eager to follow her lead. This was nothing at all like her first time with Marc. 

The first time when he had grabbed her and pulled her close, lifting her and letting his hands move across her as if they couldn’t get enough of her touch. 

Steven’s fingers lightly settled on her hips and hesitated to pull her in. He didn’t know where he wanted her. Marc always knew where he wanted her and guided her each time. 

She wanted his hands to touch her. To slide over her body like they always did, pulling her this way and that until she was undone. But the hands stayed so feather light, unsure and unmoving. 

Layla shifted on him, trying to get him to move. To touch her. To take charge like he always did… His curls were in his eyes. Marc would hate that. This wasn’t Marc. 

“Oh god.” She suddenly stopped and stared down at him. A surge of panic shot through her as she suddenly realized that the body under her was so alarmingly familiar yet different at the same time. She knew every inch of him yet she didn’t know how it would feel this time. This was unfamiliar to her. This was not her husband she was making love to. She could not expect him to already know her needs. This was a man that had never touched her and did not know her body. It was unfair of her to expect him to already be on Marc’s level. 

She sat back and searched his face, seeking the familiar. It was there and not all at once. She couldn’t just pull him in and kiss him any time she wanted. 

She would never again be able to join him in the shower as a surprise. She couldn’t slide up next to him in the bed at night and slide a sneaky hand down to give him a pleasant wakeup call when the mood hit her right. 

She didn’t know what this body wanted. Would he like the same things Marc liked? What if he was ticklish? What if he didn’t like the things she did? What if she didn’t like what he did? What if…

“Layla?” Steven gave her a nervous smile. “You alright, Love?” 

What if Jake decided he hated her? What if he didn’t want to live with her? What if he didn’t want to wake up next to her? What if he didn’t like waking up with the taste of her in his mouth? The feel of her on his body? 

She got off Steven and stood up. “No… I’m not.” 

Steven stared up at her in alarm. “I’m sorry! Was…Was it something I did? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 

She shook her head, desperate to tell him it was alright. That he did nothing wrong. That he was so right that it hurt her to stop. 

“Steven… I don’t… I don’t know what to do.” She looked at his body, wanting her. Reaching for her. “Does Marc know? Is he… What if.. What if Marc isn’t okay with this? What if Jake isn’t?” 

“Oh…” Steven blinked and sat up. He took a moment, lost in thought, then suddenly his face fell. “Oh.” 

That single word stabbed a dagger into her heart. That single word that gave voice to every insecurity, every fear, every moment when they knew that they were not normal. Every time the singular He would turn into a They in the minds of those around them. 

“I guess…” Steven swallowed hard, pushing back some emotion that threatened to rise up and spill over. “I guess we have some more things to talk about, huh?” 

“I’m so sorry… I should have thought about this before I pushed you this far. I’m so stupid…” Layla wrapped her arms around herself and turned away. 

“No, Layla!” Steven stood up and gently touched her arm. “It’s my fault! I wasn’t thinking! I’ve been selfish and I guess that’s not really something I can do anymore, is it?” 

Layla looked down. She suddenly missed her husband deeply. The way he would pull her in and wrap his arms around her too tightly as if he could somehow protect her from everything. How he knew the right way to slowly stroke her hair and whisper sweet nothings to her. 

A tear ran down her cheek and she angrily wiped it away with the back of her hand. 

She thought back to all the times when he would take her hand and give her a secret smile. A smile that knew how playful they could be together. She yearned for the times he stole kisses from her and much more. 

Steven’s hands dropped from her and he jerked slightly. “Layla.” Marc reached up and wiped away a tear with his thumb gently. “Hey…It’s alright.” He pulled her close and stroked her back gently. 

“I’m sorry.” She clung to him tightly, starting to cry. All the stress of the past year started to stream out of her. Of thinking he was in danger or dead. Of trying to find him. Of getting the divorce paper and being left alone to process those emotions. Of the danger with Harrow. Of the confusion with Steven. Of falling for him and feeling like she was cheating the whole time. Of watching them die and being unable to mourn. Of finding out about Jake and wondering if everything was alright. If they would be alright. Of still not understanding. Of wanting so desperately to understand and being told ‘no’. 

And now, she cried for the uncertainty of what being with him really meant. Things would never go back to how it was before. Before was just a pretend version of life. She fell in love with the idea of a man and now the idea had changed and she didn’t know what that meant. 

She was angry. He had hid the best and worst parts of himself from her. She could have gone into this relationship knowing Steven. She could have already established how she felt and they could still be curled up on the couch right now. She could be giving Steven the passion and intimacy that he deserved and instead she was here crying into the arms of another man that she didn’t know as well as she thought she did. 

Layla pulled away. “I love you. I meant it when I said it before. I don’t care about any of this because I love you….” She wiped her eyes angrily. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now. How do I want a part of you that was just a lie? I deserved more and you denied my heart from loving the real you. You hurt me, Marc. I’m only just now seeing it and yet I still feel like I’m the idiot!” 

“Layla, I never meant…” He started then stopped. She watched him shake his head and shut down, refusing to even fight for himself. “You’re right. I hurt you. I don’t deserve you.” 

“Don’t you dare do that.” She gave him a look. “Don’t you dare shut down on me.”

Marc turned his back. “I’m just going to keep hurting you. You’re right. You can’t do this. Go get yourself someone normal. You deserve a single good man. Not this mess.” 

“You don’t get to decide that!” She snapped. “Listen to me, Marc!” She grabbed his arm to turn him. 

He flinched hard, arms coming up in a defensive posture immediately, making her let him go. It was over in a fraction of a second and he dropped his arms as if it never happened. 

He stared ahead, eyes unfocused. His hand came up and snapped his fingers until he blinked and refocused, looking at his hand in surprise. “Stop. I got it. I got it.” 

He shook his head and looked back at her as if surprised she was still there. “I don’t get what you want from me. From this.” 

She sat back down on the couch. “I want to know you. The real you, Marc. I want you to tell me why you do that… I want to know how not to make you do that. I don’t want to keep hurting you and I don’t want you to feel like you need to hurt me trying to push me away.” 

Marc looked down then moved to sit next to her. “I’m sorry I messed up your moment with Steven. He was really looking forward to that.” 

“Me too.” She sighed heavily. “But I think first I need to understand this more. I need to know you again. I need to know how I feel about it all and that I’m not just looking at Steven and pretending that it’s you. And we’re going to need to set some ground rules down…especially with Jake.” 

“I’m sorry I made you cry.” He wrapped an arm around her gently and she gave in, moving to lean into him heavily. “Habibi… Enty Umri.” 

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You too.” She had no intention of letting it go. Tonight she would let them settle back into the false calm. She didn’t have the energy to tread lightly and feared she might fall apart again if he tried to shut her out again. 

Tomorrow she would start to search for the answers she needed. Tonight she would lay in her husband’s arms and pretend everything was alright. 

–

A few hours passed and at some point she must have nodded off. She woke up when the warm support next to her suddenly shifted and stood up. 

She yawned and stretched, looking up with tired eyes. 

Hard eyes looked back down at her, looking at her as if she were a problem he was trying to figure out how to deal with. 

“Jake?” She blinked and glanced around. “What time is it?” 

“Time for you to leave.” He found her coat and held it out to her. 

She looked at her watch and huffed. “It’s midnight. You’re kicking me out at midnight?” 

He looked up at a wall clock and sighed. He clearly didn’t want her there, but he also looked hesitant to send her into the dark alone. 

He dropped her coat on the couch and stood there a moment, hands on hips as he eyed her. “You hurt Steven. You also set off Marc. He’s going to be in a spiral for days now.” 

“That was personal.” She held her ground, not getting off the couch. “Were you spying on us? Is that what you do?” 

“I did not have to be present to know you hurt them!” He snapped. “Steven was crushed. What happened?” 

She hated how much that made her heart ache. To know that Steven felt so terrible and that she had done it. “Honestly it’s none of your business, but if you must know, things got a bit out of hand and…I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry if I upset your delicate sensibilities, Jake. I plan to fully make it up to Steven later.” 

Jake eyed her. He was used to a different type of threat. He clearly had no idea how to handle this type of problem she was causing his system. 

“What then? Did you call out the wrong name?” Jake glanced at the couch and took a guess. 

Layla’s eyes widened at that. Another fear was added to her list at the same time she felt her cheeks heat up. She stood up and moved to square off with him, looking him in the eye. 

His body tensed, ready for a fight. If she threw a punch he would be ready for it. He could already see himself dodging and moving to get behind her and-

“That was uncalled for.” She stared him down. Two could play at this game. “In fact, I think you owe me an apology. You have such a low opinion of me and you don’t know me. You think you do because you have been a little gnat on our wall for so long. You don’t. I am not about to leave them. And if you think me leaving them is going to be good for the system, then maybe you don’t know your system as well as you think you do, either.” 

He stared at her, not wanting to back down but at the same time she could sense a little bit of panic creeping into his eyes and the way his frown started to twitch ever so slightly at the corners. 

He at last took a step back. “I have work. Stay here then. I don’t care. I’ll be back some time after nine. Don’t… Don’t mess with anything.” He moved to grab a duffel bag from behind a bookshelf and quickly left, slamming the door behind him. 

She stood there a moment then let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, he and I are going to have words. It’s going to come down to some real big words, you wait and see…” 

She flopped back on the couch and lay back. She hugged a pillow tightly and buried her face into it. “FUCK!” 

This was not going well. 

[mknightgrant]

Silence was so heartbreaking, idk how I'm gonna recover from it. Reader was too good bruh, like I would be yelling at that point. Respect for being the mature person, but Steven would be catching these hands.

I just think that if you decide reader and Steven should get together in Silence 2, he should reaaaaally, as in reaaaaaallyyyy, work for it. Like make him beg. Like fuck him up. And then work on healing the insecurities and damage he caused.

But also like maaaaybe reader could get over him falling for Layla, bc he could have just been generally confused (idk) but cheating isn't something that I, personally, could get over, let alone easily? So that's also a dilemma?

I also think it would be a cool touch to also have the alters miss reader? Like they especially didn't know how much reader meant to them until she left?

I dont knoooow i just want my heart to stop hurting and no amount of daydreaming has been effective 😭😭😭😭

But if i know anything, is that whatever you write, you'll do it wonderfully. I look forward to anything else you will gift us! ❤️‍🩹

There’ll be more of the reader’s feelings in the next part!! 💔 tbh I don’t think I’d be able to handle that kind of heartbreak too like I’d breakdown right then and there for sure 🥴

AAAAAND you’ll find out about this in part 2! I’ll be posting another sneakie by the end of this week, probably! The piece should be completed soon too, but I can’t exactly give a date for that quite yet.

I’d definitely have to agree with you there though. I wouldn’t be able to push past that kind of scenario if it happened to me, so I wouldn’t be able to forgive and forget that easily 🥲

You’ll find out about that in part 2 as well 👀 we’ll see! I don’t know if I should properly spoil a bit of the plot or not 😂😭 Kinda posted a couple spoilers (ish) in my answers to other asks and in the playlist though!

BUT AHHHHH thank you 🥺 I’ve been working on it for a bit now, and I have to admit I had a hard time writing a certain part of it because I have no idea how to make it go down without it being too long of a fic 🥲 also because I don’t know how other characters would react so it took a bit of thinking </3

Again, I don’t wanna build up too much excitement for it or anything because I don’t want to disappoint any of you with a shitty fic that’s too … predictable? I really REALLY hope you guys enjoy it 🥺🫶🏼 it’ll be out soon, I promise!!

[joyfullyjay]

static screens ❂ sim jake

summary: he didn’t know that in order to chase his dreams, he’d have to lose his everything. she didn’t know that to give him the world, she’d have to say goodbye.

pairing: sim jaeyun (jake) x female!reader

warnings: angst

playlist: what a time (feat. niall horan) - julia michaels

“i’m going to audition to be an idol.”

if you were to say that you were surprised by the words that jake had spoken to you, well, you would be lying. ever since you had shown him a video of bts, you both shared an undying love for k-pop. he in particular had always spoken about how he dreamed to be like the idols he always saw on a screen. 

“okay.”

your boyfriend furrowed his brows at your response, clearly not getting the reaction he was expecting.

“just okay? babe, you’re kinda freaking me out right now.” he responded, hand beginning to nervously fiddle in his lap. you shifted from your lounging position on his living room couch, hands stilling from their previous action of petting layla.

you reached your hands up to cup jake’s cheeks, a soft smile gracing your features.

“baby, i’ll always support you in everything you want to do. i know how much you want to be an idol, and what kind of girlfriend would i be if i didn’t support your dream?” jake’s face relaxed at your words, tightness being replaced with a growing grin. “i’m so incredibly proud of you jake, please don’t think that i’d ever think otherwise.”

his smile was blazing in full force now, and he turned his head slightly to kiss your palm. your body warmed at his action.

“so you’re not mad at me?” he was still smiling, but you could detect the trace amount of anxiety in his tone.

“i’m so happy for you jake.” you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips, pulling away after a few seconds. a pout formed on his handsome face as you leaned away, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “promise you won’t forget about me when you get all rich and famous?” you teased, bopping the tip of his nose with you index finger.

“how could i ever forget the most amazing girl in the world?”

-

“hey baby, how’s your week been?” you heard the shifting of sheets on the other side of the line, indicating that jake was laying down in bed at the moment.

“it’s been good, tiring as hell, but good all the same. how about you?” you could hear the fatigue in his voice, but that didn’t overshadow the contented tone he was also speaking with.

“boring without you here,” you pouted despite knowing fully that he couldn’t see your face. he laughed lightly, the delighted sound sending warmth through your veins.

“i miss you too baby.” the two of you were silent for a few moments. he had only been in korea for six months, but you missed him as if it had been a lifetime since you had seen each other. it was painful being away, but you were willing to deal with the distance if it meant that jake could pursue his dream.

“i miss you more.” you sighed, shifting so you could lay more comfortably on your bed. “so, anything interesting happening in the trainee world?” you changed the conversation, desperate to escape the slightly sad atmosphere that had been created.

“oh!” his voice filled with excitement, and you could practically hear the grin that was forming on his face. “they want me to be on a tv show!”

your jaw dropped, giddiness filling you veins as he shared the news.

“wait what! oh my god baby, that’s so exciting! what kind of show is it?” a wide smile spread across your face, and you couldn’t help but begin to bounce slightly where you sat.

“it’s a survival reality show, there’ll be 23 of us and we’ll all be competing to be able to debut with a group that’ll be put together on the show! isn’t that cool!” he was loud with joy, and you could imagine the way his body would be physically buzzing with jubilation.

“it’s incredible jake, oh my god i’m so proud of you.” you were breathless, heart filled with pride and excitement for your love. 

“i can’t believe that i’m already so close to achieving my dream already,” he breathed out, a soft ‘thud’ indicating his body plopping down onto his bed.

your heart clenched in a way that you never felt it before at his words. yes, you were so incredibly proud of him that you could barely express it with words. yes, you loved him more than you loved anything else. but there was something about having him work so hard toward his goals, him being so close to his dreams and you only being able to watch it through a screen that made your chest hurt. 

you wanted to be there with him. you wanted to support him through more than phone calls and text messages. you wanted to be there next to him, talking about his days on the couch and going on impromptu dates on the beach.

you felt your eyes prick with unwanted tears, which you promptly choked back so you didn’t worry jake.

“it’s crazy,” you hummed, miraculously stopping your voice from wavering. “and you deserve it more than anyone else.”

-

you felt as if you couldn’t breathe.

 your eyes watched the tv screen unmovingly, and you felt that if you stopped looking for even a second, you would miss it.

jake’s parents had invited you over to watch the finale of i-land with them, and you accepted without a second thought. you chatted comfortably with them as the finale played, watching with rapt attention at each perfectly excecuted performance.

but now it was the time to announce the members of the debut group, and the room was dead silent, all paying perfect attention to the screen as the host began to read off the debuting members.

“in fourth place and the second member to debut, ni-ki!” you took in a deep breath as you watched the young boy go still with shock as his name was announced, allowing a small smile to grace your features.

you were a fan of ni-ki, always enjoying his moments on screen. not to mention he was insanely talented; his dancing abilities were unmatched. ni-ki said his words of thanks, then the camera panned over to where the boy walked to stand with heeseung, the first member announced. 

then the dramatic music began playing again.

your stomach churned with anxiety as the screen showed the remaining contestants, all waiting anxiously to hear who the next member would be. you caught a quick glimpse of jake’s face, and while he seemed collected on the outside, you knew that he was about to collapse with nerves.

hell, you were about to puke with how nervous you were for him, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how your boyfriend felt.

the host began to speak, describing a hard-working trainee with a lot of talent and passion. with each word you felt yourself moving closer to the edge of your seat, fingers twitching with anxiety.

you gave him every vote you had. he gave his everything to make it as far as he did.

“the member ranked third, and the third debut member is-”

please, please, please let him debut. he did so well and he deserves it so much, he deserves to debut, to be on the world stage, to share his heart and talent and love with the world, please let it be him-

“jake.”

your heart stopped.

“oh my god, oh my god!” you began to scream, your joyful yelling mixing with the glee of his parents. 

tears began to prick at your eyes, this time tears of pure joy. you watched as jake doubled over in emotion, clearly shocked by the announcement of his name. relief and happiness was evident on his features, and you could tell that he was trying desperately not to cry. 

he did it, he did it, he did it.

you were on your feet, watching tearfully as your incredible boyfriend made a short speech and made his way over to where the rest of the debut members were standing.

he’s debuting. your boyfriend, your jake, was going to become a star. he was a full fledged member of enhypen, and god, you didn’t know you could feel so much pride and love in your body.

the host began to move on to announcing the next debut member, but you were on such a high that you could barely pay attention. jake’s parents swept you up in a hug, and even layla was barking in joy as the reality that jake was debuting finally began to settle in. 

you sat back down on the couch, body warm with pride as you finally managed to focus on the rest of the live show, the remainder of the program went by in a flash, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t shed a few tears as you watched jake and the rest of his new members group hug under large letters that spelled ‘enhypen’.

the final credits for i-land began to roll, and you wasted no time in whipping your phone out and searching for jake’s contact. your thumb hovered over the ‘call’ button, but your rational side fought against your elated one, saying that he would probably be incredibly busy right at the current moment. 

you swiped out of the phone app, instead opting to text him a message that he can see when the chaos dies down.

you: i can’t believe i’m dating a real idol now! i always knew you could do it. congratulations on debuting baby, i’m so proud of you, and i love and miss you more than words can say <3

-

“hi babe!” you greeted as ther facetime call connected, revealing jake’s gorgeous face on your screen. you surveyed your screen intently, your smile slowly turning into a small frown. “oh, it looks like you’re busy right now, should i call later?”

there was a generous amount of commotion coming from jake’s end, and judging by the outfit, makeup, and hairstyle, it looked as if he was in the middle of some kind of shoot.

“oh no it’s okay, just let me grab my headphones and go somewhere quieter.” your screen only showed the top of jake’s forehead and his eyes, indicating that he was talking in a hushed voice directly into the speaker in an effort to speak over the noise.

it only look a minute for jake to put on his airpods and walk to a location with sigificantly less noise, and judging by the tiled walls and slight echo, you guessed he took refuge in a bathroom.

“babe seriously, i can call you when you’re back at your dorm.” you huffed, feeling guilty for taking him out of what seemed to be something important.

“no baby it’s alright, we’re just doing a photoshoot. they’re currently taking photos of jay, so i have some time to talk before i have to go,” he smiled, eyes soft as he stared at your pixelated face on his screen. “it’s really hectic out there, and seeing your beautiful face is the perfect thing to calm me down.”

your body warmed at his words, heart fluttering as it always did when jake spoke sweetly like that.

“so, what are you shooting for?” you asked, resting your head on your hand.

“ah that’s a surprise for now baby,” he smirked, and you pouted in response. you let out a groan, rolling over in your bed from your stomach onto your back.

“not even a little hint?” you pressed, albeit jokingly. you knew that some of the projects that jake was involved in were supposed to be kept under tight wraps, so you never held the fact that he kept parts of his career a secret against him.

“nope,” he popped the ‘p’ sound at the end, making you let out a little giggle. “you’ll just have to see when the photos come out, but i promise you’ll love it.” he gave you a little wink at the end, and you smiled widely at that.

you let out a sigh. “i guess i’ll just wait like every other dedicated engene out there,” you joked, pouting your lips yet again.

“oh baby you know you’re not just a fan,” he looked at you with the softest of gazes. “you’re my girl.”

your cheeks blazed at his brazen comment, and you couldn’t felt the fond sigh that left your lips.

“god, i miss you.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but by the way that jake’s eyes began to glisten, you knew he heard your words. 

“i miss you too baby.” he replied, words soft and somber. “i wish-”

a few loud knocks interrupted him, jake’s head whipping in the direction of the sound. you could hear someone speak loudly from the other side of the door in rushed korean, and you took that as your queue to begin wrapping up your call.

jake yelled a few words in korean to the person waiting for him, and then quickly returned his attention back to you.

“i’m so sorry baby, but i’ve gotta go. they finished up with jay early and apparently they pushed the schedule forward by an hour so everything has to go faster and -”

“jake.” you interrupted his incresingly frantic rambling, sending your clearly frazzled boyfriend the tenderest smile you could muster. “it’s okay, i understand. now go, you big idol.”

jake was visibly relaxed at your words, a smile beginning to grace his lips. “you’re the absolute best, i promise i’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“bye babe, i love yo-” he hung up as you were finishing your sentence, causing all feelings of warmth to abruptly leave your body.

you pushed down your feelings of frustration and sadness, not wanting to dwell on it too much. jake was an idol now, he was infinitely busier than when he was a trainee, much less than when he was back home. you couldn’t blame him for hanging up so unceremoniously.

ignore it y/n, he didn’t mean to and you know that. he has more important things to do than talk to you now.

you sighed and curled up in your bed, burying your head into your pillow. but despite your best efforts to ignore your disappointment, but one thought began to plague your mind incessantly.

he didn’t say i love you back.

-

you’re hurting.

it’s been a week since you last heard from jake; the longest you’ve gone without talking to him in the two years you’ve been together. and during the weeks before that, the most you could get out of him was a bland, rushed texted once a day at best.

yes, you understood he was busy, especially with the group’s first comeback looming over his head. but he had always made time for you, even if it was just five minutes, ever since he became a trainee. and for him to simply begin to ghost you like he was, well, it hurt like hell.

you had been a kind, supportive, loving, and understanding girlfriend throughout his entire journey, but now, as you sat in your room on your two year anniversary, you reached your limit. 

a small cake with the words ‘happy anniversary’ written on it sat lonely on your desk, your phone void of any messages or calls from your boyfriend on what was supposed to be an incredibly joyous day. 

you checked your phone once again, sighing as you still had new notifications, and the clock just hit midnight.

now it was official, jake had forgotten your anniversary.

tears began to burn at the corners of your eyes, tears that you had held back all day due to your foolish hope that he would acknowledge your existence on a date that was so important to the two of you. 

you finally let yourself succumb to your emotions, tears rolling down your face in bold streaks. it took every bit of strength you had to not sob loudly and uncontrollably, and you bit your lip as your body began to shake with emotion.

anger, disappointment, sadness.

you felt so many things that your brain could hardly process it, but there was one thing that you knew for sure.

you had hit your breaking point.

you: hi babe, happy two year anniversary, i love and miss you more than anything. i know you’re incredibly busy right now, but call me when you get a chance, okay? i love you <3 sent ten hours ago

you: we need to talk. sent one minute ago

-

it was a beautiful morning when you woke up, almost beautiful enough to make you forget the painful events that had happened the night before. but your bliss was short lived as you saw the bags under your eyes and the slight puffiness of your features from crying in the black reflection of your phone screen.

you sighed, taking a few moments to calm yourself before tears would make yet another unwanted appearance. you closed your eyes and counted to three, finally plucking up the courage to turn on your phone.

and there it was, a multitude of messages from none other than your ghost of a boyfriend, along with a few missed calls.

jake <3: holy shit baby i’m so sorry about yesterday

 i promise i didn’t mean to forget about our anniversary, everything has been so crazy lately and yesterday we had so much stuff to do i’m so sorry

missed call from jake <3

baby please pick up, i understand that you’re mad but please let me explain

(2) missed calls from jake <3

y/n please baby, i love you so much i never meant for this to happen

(3) missed calls from jake <3

baby, please. i’m so sorry, i promise it’ll never happen again. please pick up?

(4) missed calls from jake <3

baby?

the last message was from only a few minutes ago and it was relatively early in the morning, so you assumed that jake was up and free to talk. you took a deep breath, and pressed on the ‘call’ icon.

the phone rang only for a few seconds before jake picked up.

“baby,” he breathed, clearly relieved that you had decided to call him. the mere sound of his voice made tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you bit your lip in an effort to keep them at bay. “i can’t even start to tell you how fucking sorry i am about yesterday. our scheduele was so packed that i barely had time to even think about breathing, and our anniversary completely slipped my mind.”

he continued to ramble, clearly set on making things right between the two of you. “you’re probably so mad at me, and i can’t blame you for that. i’m so sorry baby, everything has been so crazy for me and i know you know that but i love you so much and i’m so angry at myself for forgetting and god i’m so sorry and-”

“jake.”

his panicked chattering came to a clear stop at the sound of your shaking voice.

“i can’t do this anymore.”

it felt as if the earth was shattering around you as the dreaded words left your lips, and you allowed your tears to freely roll down your face. your voice was barely above a whisper, but it felt as if it rang as loud as a bomb.

“what?” he sounded so broken, so small, and it took everything in you not to take back your previous statement and drown him in love. but you couldn’t. 

“i can’t do this jake, i don’t think we should be together anymore.” you spoke louder, cursing at how your voice wavered and cracked. jake made a wounded noise from the other end.

“w-why are you saying that baby? is it because of yesterday? i promise i really didn’t mean to forget our anniversary, and i promise it’ll never happen again, but please, don’t do this.” his voice broke, and you could tell that he was beginning to cry. your heart clenched painfully at the sound, but you somehow managed to summon the courage to continue.

“jake, it’s not just because of yesterday.” you paused, trying to string your thoughts into coherance."i just—i just can’t do this anymore jake. it’s all too much.”

“w-what do you even mean by that baby? is it because of me? i’m so sorry that i made you feel that way, i promise i’ll make it up to you-”

“no jake!” your voice came our much louder than intended, causing you to wince. you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down. “i feel like i’m holding you back. do you realize just how big you guys are now? i see you on the charts, on youtube, on twitter. you’re living your dream, jake, and i am just a part of your past that we were in denial over letting go.”

“do you realize how hard it is not being there for you? watching you reach for the stars while i’m stuck on the ground? seeing you win these awards, be this big idol that you’ve always dreamed of when the only way i can support you is through a phone screen? jake, it’s been over a week since we’ve last talked. do you realized how much it hurt? not hearing from you, not getting even a single lousy text? your career comes first, and i’m just another thing for you to worry about on top of that.” your voice began to crescendo, every single dark and deep emotion you’ve felt since jake had left finally coming to the surface.

“we’ve been fooling ourselves, pretending like we could work out with you a million miles away, being an idol. you don’t have time for a relationship, jake, and all we’ve been doing is hurting ourselves. it’s not fair, to you or me.”

you were crying hard at this point, breathing heavily as your spiel came to an end. 

“do you-” he paused abruptly, as if uttering the next words brought him physical pain. “do you not love me anymore?”

you choked back a sob at his question, squeezing your eyes shut and running a hand through your hair.

“no jake, i still love you. hell, i love you so much that it hurts. but do you know why i’m doing this?” a few sniffles sound from jake’s end, but he otherwise stays silent. “because if you love someone, you should let them go.”

he openly sobs at your statement, a noise that will permanently be engraved in your mind and heart forever. 

“b-but what if i don’t want you to let me go? y/n please,” he says between sobs, trying desperately to regain his composure.

“jake,” you try to make your tone soft and soothing, and you can tell it works as you hear him begin to calm down at the sound of it. “you deserve to pursue your dream without anyone holding you back. and i-” you paused, not sure if you should continue to say what you were going to say. but you steeled yourself, knowing that it was something that both you and him needed to hear.

“and i deserve someone who is there for me, no matter what.” 

the silence that settled between you two was deafening.

“oh.” he whispered, defeated and finally accepting of your words. 

“jake, i’m so sorry,” you whimpered, wiping away at your tears. “it just has to be this way.” you waited with bated breath for his response.

“i—i know.” his broken voice slashed through your heart like a knife. “i just wish it could be different.”

“me too,” you sighed, tears slipping down your face in steady streaks. “me too.”

“can i just say something before we make it official?” jake asks, sniffling a bit.

“sure.”

“i-” he paused, seemingly gathering his thoughts. “i’m sorry it had to be this way. i’m sorry it all had to come to this. i wish-” you could imagine him, his face twisted in pain, tears streaming down his face. it all made you feel nauseous.

“i wish that it could be different between us. you’re my everything, y/n, you always have been and you always will be. you’ve always been so kind, so supportive, so understanding. you deserve better than me, you deserve someone who can show you off and care for you in ways i can’t anymore. i’m sorry-” you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the cracks in your heart deepen with each word.

“and i’ll always love you, no matter what.” his speech ended, and it took every bit of strength in you body not to cave into his words of adoration, to not take every word of goodbye back in an instant.

“you’ll always be in my heart jake,” you whispered with a shaking voice. you slowly pulled your phone away from your ear, hovering your thumb over the ‘end’ icon.

“goodbye.”

the phonecall ended, and you began to sob heavily the moment it did, your devastating reality finally making itself permanent.

and four-thousand miles away, curled up in his bunk, jake was doing the same.

oh, what a cruel thing, reality is.

[nexility-sims]

What stories (on simblr or otherwise) have inspired yours?

ooh ! me, seeing this ask and immediately forgetting every book i’ve ever read or movie i’ve ever seen—! i’m so sorry, but i’m a wordy bitch who foams at the mouth anytime anyone asks me anything about my story. i got carried away, but ... y’all can keep scrolling adshkfldsff

okay, i’ve said before that the direct inspiration to make a simblr story came from @historicalsimslife​​ and @thegrimalldis​​. i can’t remember how i found either of them, but they each showed me respectively that 1) simblr storytelling was a thing, and 2) royal stories can be way more compelling than irl royals would lead you to believe, lmao. so, i decided to give storytelling a go, and eventually i also wanted to try the royal setting, based on reading alyssa’s work. i do believe that that @warwickroyals​​ motivated me to embrace being critical of monarchy as a concept and to also embrace ... how to say this ... i guess those grittier, dysfunctional plot lines that take more care to do well. ayanna makes it seem effortless tho ??? hmph. oh, and my original inspiration for the bancrofts whose legacy feeds into this story is ... the vanderbilts. :^)

in terms of my story itself, beyond the premise ... i draw inspiration from life stories ! rowena is heavily inspired by alice roosevelt and barbara hutton. marginally, also wallis simpson. alfonso is kind of an archetype i write often, but i can’t put my finger on where the inspiration for that type originally came from. why is macbeth coming to mind. rip. macbeth is a general influence for me, as a person, who thinks of stories. he also gives off Hot Man™ vibes, maybe on account of the sword-swinging and anguish. anyway......

beatriz is inspired partially by everything i wanted from daenerys targaryen and didn’t get ! i feel like songs have actually formed her in large part, too: a chunk of halsey’s album, if i can’t have love, i want power; lorde’s “yellow flicker beat,” valerie broussard’s “a little wicked,” and more recently, florence + the machine’s “king.” there’s a little bit of wednesday addams mixed in, too, probably. with both her and zuriñe, i am fully indulging my love for women who are Bad™ and don’t apologize for it. i’ve always been captivated by ostensible villains with whom you’re made to sympathize, both as a storytelling challenge and as a type of character. matriarch made of steel. heart of coal. selfishness that dresses up as selflessness. let her have power. she earned it. 

anyway, my ever-present inspiration for “romance that interests me personally,” generally, comes from layla and majnun on one hand—i will cry a thousand tears just reading quotes from it, smh—and catherynne valente’s deathless on the other. i guess that translates to “we are fucked, in every sense” and “we’re all suffering, beautifully and endlessly.”

i’ve had a dramatic, dysfunctional life myself, so .... honestly, i think i gravitate toward stories that let me explore that and give me control over it. i suspect it’s why i used to prefer films that didn’t have happy endings (somehow, the pandemic changed my media consumption habits, so now i binge watch shows i’ve seen a dozen times instead of seeking out whatever depressing drama netflix recommends). it’s probably why i like villains who aren’t one-dimensional evil but who hurt people they love for reasons they can’t fully explain. i disagree with the idea that “evil” is boring just because it’s more mundane than we like to think, but i do believe writing goodness—especially the mundane kind—is also incredibly difficult because it’s just as complex as badness. i’m off topic. rip 2x. 

i love world-building, and i don’t see enough stories—especially in this corner of simblr—that are ... not so “western,” so reflective of the colonial world, i guess? i live here in my real life, i study it for a living, let me go elsewhere !!!!!  i don’t expect that of anyone, to be clear, but ... as an ~indigenous person~, i just wanted to explore a place where the worldviews and beliefs are anti- or decolonial, or maybe simply were never colonized at all. it’s hard to do that, but it excites me as much as the character development i discussed above. i can’t say i’m doing it well or whatever, but i try to think of this aspiration as the guiding light or motivation for my choices. 

to the nuts and bolts, when i decided to write this story, i was learning about the history of modern mexico—specifically, the porfiriato and the revolution—so that influenced the setting. i have some mixed feelings about the latin american inspiration since i’m not latina myself, but ... i guess i hope it’s both fictional enough to not seem exploitative and appropriately respectful when i borrow things directly, like names. it’s why i try to keep the naming conventions for people and places internally consistent, for example. if i use indigenous words, there’s from a particular set of places. in essence, the choice comes from a place of admiration and solidarity, which i say w/ deep sincerity. there’s also my interest in medieval iberia with its portuguese and spanish cultures as well as the islamic influences of the period. that’s totally more for aesthetics and naming, tho, but i do take inspiration for the political drama from “modernization” struggles in mexican history. 

so, uh, in summary, let’s say i was inspired by what black panther was trying to do with wakanda but in the western hemisphere LMAO