#and I don't want to hate working what I enjoy doing

[star-sim]

show me how ☆ jake sim

☆ non-idol! jake x fem! reader ☆ summary: jake didn't think his casual crush on you, his hot coworker at the local ice cream parlor, would flourish into anything. but one day, after a power outage during a shift, the two of you are forced to huddle up together to keep warm, opening up many, many, many doors into your relationship. ice cream was sweet and soft. and despite your appearance, so were you. ☆ genre: coworkers to lovers, fluff, a lot of bickering, alternative! reader, jake is kind of a loser, rock references, nonchalant crushes, summer romance, baddie reader, JAKE IS JUST REALLY DOWN BAD ☆ warning(s)? slightly suggestive? just tbh its js jake being really attracted to you LOL ☆ word count: 12.3k ☆ joining @bywons 1k event for "show me how" by men i trust. i had a little bit of a different approach to crushes this time. this is extremely late im so sorry enjoy!

"Can I get uhhhhh…"

Jake deadpanned for the 15th time in the past hour.

He was trying to be kind, to be understanding, to be loving in all ways possible… He really was.

But was it that difficult to order a mint chocolate cone with rainbow sprinkles?!

Jake watched as the snotty child before him picked his nose, his eyes glazing over the menu. It’s been ten minutes and this kid was taking too long to order. For fuck’s sake, he was holding up the line!

For his summer job, Jake started working at the ice cream parlor near the pier. He thought it was a good idea, since the pay was above minimum wage and he liked ice cream.

Wrong!

It was horrible!

From rude customers to his asshole of a boss to his incompetent coworkers, Jake dreaded coming into work everyday.

It was another summer afternoon, where Jake slaved away for his corporate overlords. Summer was only kicking off, so the June gloom stuck like glue. This morning, there were already storm warnings, so imagine Jake's surprise when a whole bunch of people went to the beach today and the ice cream parlor next to it.

"Please take your time," Jake said with a tight-lipped smile. Translation: I’ve given you enough time, kid. Hurry up and order or I’ll actually snap.

The kid blinked at Jake, before picking his nose. "Can I get uhhhh…"

Jake winced, but forced a smile with a nod. "Would you like any recommendations?"

Translation: You better tip me, you little punk.

By now, he could see the angry mothers and kids at the back of the line, quietly complaining about the hold-up. All Jake could do was smile apologetically, hanging his head in embarrassment.

And to Jake's horror, as the snotty little kid was still deciding on what he wanted to order, Jake could hear the back door creaking open, followed by a "Bye, Jake!" before it slammed.

Did Jake ever say that he hated his coworkers?

Today wasn't even Jake's shift, but he had to cover three shifts, because his other coworkers couldn't give a damn. They loved to leave early because they knew that Jake would work his ass off either way. So here he was, now forced to run an entire ice cream parlor with already angry customers all by himself!

"Actually, I don't want anything," the snotty kid blinked at Jake. "Bye, mister."

With that, the kid left, oblivious to Jake's gawking face.

You've got to be kidding me.

If it weren't for the fact that his name tag had his name printed in big, thick letters and that there was already a line of impatient customers, Jake might have yelled.

As he put on his customer-service voice for the next customer in line, Jake could hear the back door creak open again if he listened past the generic pop music playing in the background.

And the moment that he heard a familiar voice, Jake nearly ascended into the sky.

"Jake, I'm here!"

There was only one part of working at this dinky little ice cream parlor that Jake liked.

And it was you.

His savior, you.

You were the only coworker that actually did your work. In fact, you went above and beyond. The only shifts that seemed to be productive on all ends were when it was you and Jake.

If he could recall correctly, today wasn't your scheduled shift either. You were probably covering someone's shift like him, too.

And plus, you were cute.

Really cute.

Jake never really thought he had a "type" when it came to girls. In fact, Jake couldn't even remember the last time he had a crush. But the moment he saw your smudged eyeliner, constant annoyed look, the multiple tassel and charm bracelets on your wrists, and your black nail polish, he knew that you were his type.

You looked like you could probably scare a baby with a single look. Honestly, you could make Jake piss himself with a single look, too. And for some reason, he liked it. A lot. Which was weird.

Within seconds of just arriving, you were already throwing on your apron, fixing up your work uniform before appearing at the counter, ready to do your fucking job.

Jake tried his best to focus on the group of middle schoolers who giggled over every word as they ordered their ice cream, but even from behind him, he could hear you cleaning one of the scoopers and getting the keys for the second cash register. Even though all you were doing was your job, Jake couldn't help but straighten up his posture and run a hand through his hair as you took the register beside him. Just in case you spared him a glance, he had to look his best.

"Hi, what can I get you?" you said chirpily, putting on your best customer-service voice, something that Jake could tell was not your forte. Although he didn't know you seriously, he's had conversations in passing with you, whether it be on slow days, during breaks, or as the two of you closed up the parlor together. You never sounded as enthusiastic as you did now, as you happily helped an old lady pick her order.

You were cool like that.

Actually, really cool.

Jake couldn't think of anyone cooler than you.

And you were pretty, and hardworking, and honest, and responsible, and cooperative, and a little bit scary, but that was hot. You were also very kind to customers, and even though Jake could see your lips— which were nice, by the way— twitch, he could tell that you were trying your best, which was good, and—

"Um, sir, can I order now?"

Jake snapped out of his daze, tearing his eyes away from you.

"R-Right!"

Completely missing the way you rolled your eyes at him, though without a little chuckle.

It wasn't always easy being the only competent worker at the parlor. While it meant you got paid more for covering so many shifts, you couldn't say it was fun working the late shifts.

The parlor closed at 11PM on weekdays, so here you were, working late into the night. 

You yawned as you rang up the last customer of the night, using all of your last bits of strength to muster a smile, before saying, "Have a good night!"

As the door slammed shut, the building winds outside providing more than enough force to ring through the entire parlor, you let out a sigh.

"They're gone, Jake," you called.

From inside the break room, you could hear Jake groan something muffled but definitely, "Finally."

Jake Sim was the only coworker you could rely on. He was the only person your age, both of you were freshly graduated highschoolers working to prepare for college experiences. Despite his party-boy look, he was surprisingly diligent. You definitely noticed how he ended up picking up another person's shift, just like you. Unlike everyone else, he actually gave a damn, which you could appreciate.

Tonight was no different from any other.

It was just Jake and you, working the closing shift together.

The moment you entered the break room, you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning on the door frame. Jake, too, was slumped over on the table, his face buried in his arms.

Your shitty coworkers always tried to convince you that you should be happy to work extra shifts: extra pay, more work experience, have a good rep with the boss.

But what they didn't mention was how absolutely draining it was to work 7 hours straight in a short-staffed busy ice cream parlor.

"Why were there so many people?" Jake groaned, shoving his face deeper into his arms. If you weren't exhausted out of your mind, you would've thought the scene before you was a funny sight. Jake, in his silly white uniform designed to look like that of a sailor's and crooked worker hat, practically melting on the break room table.

"And why were there only two of us?" you added, letting your eyelids fall shut as you leaned against the door frame.

Though, you would say, you did like working for one extra reason: Jake Sim himself.

He was as cute as a button, and pretty easy to talk to.

Jake lifted his head, quickly checking his phone.

"No seriously," he rested his face on his fist. "It was cold and dreary all day— and wasn't there a storm warning?— Why would anyone want to get ice cream on a day like this?"

You shrugged. "Beats me."

The two of you stayed in the break room in silence for a few more moments, catching your breaths after a long day. "Let's get outta here, Jake."

Here was your favorite part of the work day: closing up. Not just because it meant that you got to leave, but you could do whatever you wanted.

Jake locked up the front door and flipped the sign, while you locked up front displays and cash registers. The two of you tidied up the breakroom (which was empty because your slobs of coworkers weren't here), before pulling out the mops and cleaning up the floor.

This was the fun part.

"Hey!" Jake cried as you splashed water onto the floor, your wet mop sludging up the water as it moved against the checkered floor. Looks like some of the water got onto his pants. "What was that for?"

You shrugged, with a sly grin. "No reason in particular— Hey!"

Jake shook off the excess water on his mop, pointed directly at you, the water droplets spraying all over your shirt.

"See?" he pointed to the wet drops on your shirt. "We're even now."

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he was being playful.

It was fun now because this was the time that you could play whatever music you wanted. Your manager always insisted that you'd play generic pop music during store hours, but now that it was closed, you could play any music you wanted. And it was great, because you and Jake had the same music taste.

"Really?" you whipped your head over to Jake as he passed your phone, which controlled the sound system, back to you. "Bon Jovi?"

You winced as loud vocals, strong guitar riffs, and a drum louder than you could imagine blasted through the speakers.

"Bon Jovi is good!" Jake shouted all the way from the freezers.

Maybe your taste was just a little bit different.

Jake was a cool guy. He really was. Very personable and someone that you could have fun with, even if you weren't that close to him. But sometimes his music choices were too much.

"You have no reason to be blasting hard rock at 11PM," you murmured.

"I heard that!"

You stifled a chuckle.

As you cleaned the floors, you nodded your head to the music. You could hear humming along wherever he was. It was all quiet, only the sound of mops, the freezers' buzzing, and your queued music playing in the background. It was small moments like his that made you want to keep working (other than the pay).

And plus, the parlor was very close to the beach.

At times like this, you could hear seagulls squawking overhead, with waves crashing against the shoreline.

Which... now that you thought about it...

Why couldn't you hear any of that?

Usually, even if Jake was blasting the hardest rock, you could still hear the sounds of the sea.

But now, all you heard was wind.

You glanced out the window.

Palm trees blew against the night sky. Wind whirled, creating a howling sound.

And before you could think anything of it, you heard two things: the back door slamming, and the sound of electricity buzzing.

One moment you could see everything, and the next moment it was completely dark.

Your blood ran cold.

The music stopped. The buzzing of the freezers stopped, too. It was completely dark, so dark that you couldn't even see your own hands, save for the single stream of moonlight leaking through the front windows.

You would consider yourself a calm person, you really would.

But in that moment, you felt panic set in.

Because here you were, working a late shift in a tiny little ice cream parlor in the middle of the beach, with no one but your teenage coworker. And now all the power went out.

And because you were afraid of the dark.

The mop in your hand dropped, clunking! against the checkered flooring.

Your heart pounded, so loud that you could hear it in your ears. You could feel it jumping out of your chest.

"J-Jake?" you called out.

No response.

Your mind did wonders to scare you, and now it was working over time.

What happened to Jake? Did he disappear with the lights too? You dug your teeth into your bottom lip.

Were you all alone in the dark? Just you and this dark abyss, a dark abyss so suffocating yet so cold that you couldn't even tell if you were standing or curled up. By this time, your legs were feeling weak, so you wouldn't be surprised if you were on the floor, your knees to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut.

The howling of the wind sent chills down your spine. Realistically, nothing could get you. You were just at work, like always, but it was just dark. But you felt like something would jump out at you, something scary and from your worst nightmares. It would get you, maybe hurt you. Were you going to die? Why did you feel so alone? What happened to everyone? What happened to Jake—

"[Name]?"

At the sound of a familiar voice, your eyes shot open.

But instead of being met with a pure, unknown darkness, you were met with a tall figure before you, completely shrouded in darkness, save for the stream of yellow light coming to illuminate its face.

Terrifying.

You let out a shriek as you jumped back.

What the hell was that? Was that what got Jake?—

It took a step forward, and before you could scream again—

"[Name]!" it was Jake's voice. He reached out for you, his hand resting on your shoulder. "It's me, Jake!"

You heard a bit of clicking, and it was then that you realized that the scary figure that you saw was just Jake with a flashlight. You relaxed.

"You okay?" Jake crouched down to your curled up figure, the yellow light of the flashlight glimmering against the floor. Although your eyes had slightly adjusted to the darkness, you could see your hands now. "I think the power went out."

You nodded slowly, still with your knees against your chest. Your heart was still pounding in your chest. You felt Jake's hand reach out for yours, interlocking fingers before giving it a squeeze.

Boom!

You jumped away from Jake, a small "eep!" escaping your lips.

Jake flinched, pointing the flashlight at the front windows.

"Thunder," he muttered under his breath. Although all the streetlights and signs had shut down too, he could see the lightning as it struck in the night sky.

He glanced at your startled form.

"Damnit," he cursed under his breath. "There was a storm warning earlier."

You hid your face in your palms.

This was everything that you didn't want to happen.

It was completely dark, and here you were practically trapped inside. It was impossible to get home, because the roads were all dark, and there was probably an oncoming storm, too. It was cold, and it was just you and your coworker. You just wanted to go home!

Although he couldn't see your face, Jake could sense your uneasiness. 

"C'mon," he tugged at your hand. "Let's go to the back."

Although Jake bumped into a few tables and counters on the way to the break room, he didn't mind. After all, there was you, who was clearly startled. He'd rather get a bruise on his hip than you.

He could hear your breath hitching, small whimpers of fear tumbling out as he led you through the dark abyss. Jake had to admit, it was much scarier when it was completely dark than when it wasn't.

The breakroom wasn't much better than in the middle of the floor, but at least there were chairs. Not that it mattered.

You and Jake decided to sit under the break table, shoulder to shoulder with the flashlight between you.

It was silent. You couldn't see Jake, but the feeling of him next to you relieved only some of your anxiety.

The flashlight only illuminated enough for you to see a few feet around you. Otherwise, everything else was a dark, bottomless void.

You knew it was illogical and practically impossible for something else to be lurking. But as minutes passed in silence, the thought of something—or someone— prowling in the dark and ready to jump out at you gnawed at you more and more. Goosebumps rose along your arms, the hair on your neck standing.

"I'm scared, Jake," you whispered, your voice shaky. "I'm so scared."

Thunder boomed in the air, lightning crackled, while heavy rain began to shower down. You jumped at the sound, your hands immediately shooting to grab Jake's arm and leaning into his touch. You squeezed your eyes shut, a scared squeak escaping your lips.

"I'm scared!" you squealed.

Jake's brows furrowed, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

"Hey," he said into your ear, watching as you curled up against him, clutching his arm tight. "Hey, I got you."

Your hold on him only tightened as another round of thunder boomed through the night. "Open your eyes, [Name]. It's okay."

You shook your head profusely, your face pressed into his shoulder.

"Nothing's gonna get ya," he whispered, slowly rubbing circles on your back. "You're okay."

You shook your head again.

"It's so dark," you peeped. "Too dark."

"It's okay," Jake's voice was soft, soft as a cloud as he comforted you. "I'm here. I got you."

You nodded into his shoulder, but you kept your face pressed against it, not letting up.

Jake watched you, both with a soft heart and with wide eyes.

He wouldn't say he knew you too well. Even so, he'd spent a lot of time with you this summer so far, he had a few good memories with you. You were always so... cool.

Always on-task, always ready to fight a rude customer, always ready to speak up if you thought something was wrong.

It was weird. Seeing someone that Jake had always seen as a pillar of support one way or another completely drop that image of strength was… something that he never expected.

Here you were, so vulnerable in his arms.

Jake would have never expected you to be afraid of the dark, let alone some thunder, but he didn't mind. Even with your eyes closed, and even with his arms wrapped around you, you still jolted at each crackle in the sky.

If only he could do something to help you...

Jake let out an 'ah' sound.

He leaned into your ear, whispering right against the shell of your ear, "I'll be right back."

You let out another squeak as you felt Jake slipping away from you, yet he didn't take the flashlight with him.

"J-Jake—!"

"I'm still here," he said, yet you heard as he took a few steps. He was rummaging through his bag. He tried his best to feel for what he was looking for: a small, square case. "I'm with you, don't worry."

And as quick as he left your side he was back. Jake slithered his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Your eyes widened a fraction as Jake fished for his phone from his back pocket.

"What were you—" you furrowed your brows— "Why’d you get up?"

You could feel Jake turn his head to look at you, and you could hear him grin.

"To get this." In his palm, Jake revealed a small, square case. His earbuds.

You blinked. "W-Why?"

"Don't worry about it." You watched confused as Jake took his earbuds out, jabbing it into the headphone port of his phone. Then, he handed you both of the ears.

"For you," he said simply.

As you were about to object, lightning striked again in the sky, yet another squeal coming from you.

You took his earbuds, jamming them into your ear.

Jake pressed the first song in his playlist.

And if you weren't scared out of your mind right now, you would have yelled at him.

Because really?

Bon Jovi?

At a time like this?

The music was loud enough that you could be distracted, but quiet enough that you could still hear Jake's voice. And when Jake noticed that you were relaxed enough, he opened his mouth.

"I'm surprised you didn't want to rip out my earbuds the moment you heard Bon Jovi," he said.

You elbowed him, yet you were still clinging onto him for dear life.

"Read the room, man," you muttered. "I'm scared shitless."

Jake laughed, and you rolled your eyes again. "This is the only time that I'll willingly listen to Bon Jovi."

"Hey!" Jake cried. "Bon Jovi is a good band."

You shot him a look. "Play some Pink Floyd, something."

You cursed Jake. Of course he'd let you listen to his music, because he got to control it!

"Nah," Jake said. "Bon Jovi is perfect for rainy nights."

You scoffed. "In what world?"

You could hear him grin again. "In my world."

What a loser.

You could see his phone screen light up, probably texts from his parents, but he ignored it. Jake’s phone was on the floor on the other side of him, the side that you were not on.

“Are you sure you won’t play Pink Floyd?” you asked slowly.

“Nope.”

Extreme times call for extreme measures.

Your arm reached across Jake’s lap, jerking to take his phone.

“Hey!” Jake yelped, squirming away from you in a way that blocked your hand from reaching his phone. “What the hell are you—“

“I’m changing the song!”

The two of you struggled like that for a few more moments, and then the next thing you knew you were on Jake’s lap, your arms pinned above your head.

“Let go of me!” you writhed, the earbuds in your eyes still blasting the hardest rock you’ve ever heard. Although you managed to take Jake’s phone, there wasn’t much you could do if he was pinning your hands above you.

“Then give me my phone back,” Jake ignored your struggling.

“Then change the song!”

“No!”

You huffed, continuing your attempt to wriggle out of Jake’s hold, but alas, he was stronger than you. “How are you so strong—“

Boom! Crackle! Thunder and lightning struck.

“Eep!” Immediately, you collapsed onto Jake’s chest, pressing your face into his shirt. You clung onto him, squeezing your eyes shut. When you could feel his chest rumble with a few chuckles, you punched his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Jake chuckled again, but he only pulled you in closer by the waist, allowing you to cling to him more comfortably.

As the storm raged on, any hope that the power would be back up was lost. Jake's phone still had service, but you could tell he was being polite and not going on his phone to not make you feel alienated. Your phone was somewhere in the front, probably on a counter or something.

"We really shouldn't have agreed to cover shifts today," you murmured, your cheek pressed against Jake's chest.

Jake hummed.

He wanted to get past the way that anytime you spoke to Jake, it was either about music or work. He didn't mind talking about these things with you, but he wished he could say more. He wanted to know what you were thinking, and hear about what you liked and disliked, what silly stories or memories you had to tell him.

He wanted to get to know you.

“What’s your favorite color?”

???

"What?"

Jake blinked. "What's your favorite color?"

You stared at him. "Why?"

He shrugged under you. "I dunno. I just wanted to get to know you better."

"Oh." What a simple reason. It made sense for such a simple question. "I like black."

Jake scoffed. "That's not a color."

"Huh? Then what is it?"

"A shade."

"Says who?"

"Says science!"

And then it was quiet again (at least on Jake's part, you were still listening to his music)

But not quite awkward.

Despite the compromising position that you were in, there wasn't any feeling of embarrassment or discomfort.

That's how Jake would describe how he felt toward you. It was an easy thing. You were cool and pretty, and he liked you. Nothing more, nothing less. No games to play, no extra calculations or hours of planning. He liked you, and he was just going to do what felt right. It was as straightforward as that.

"What are you doing after this summer?" you asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

That's right. You and Jake had never discussed much about your personal lives, like where you went to high school, what your plans were post-high school, etc.

And now that the two of you were alone, in the dark, with virtually nothing to do, it was the perfect time to talk about it.

"I'm going up to Santa Barbara," Jake said coolly. "I'm studying biomed engineering."

"Oooh," you mused. "How exciting."

Jake let out a chuckle. "You don't sound excited."

"I am," you deadpanned, and Jake couldn't hold back a laugh.

"What about you?" Jake asked. "What are you doing?"

Even though it was dark, Jake could hear you frown.

"I'm going to Davis for International Business." You paused. "I don't know."

"Whaddaya mean?"

You shrugged. "I dunno if it's really my passion. I just chose it because—"

You're interrupted by a loud bang! followed by buzzing. You jolted, tensing up in Jake's hold, whose hand shot to the small of your back protectively.

"Eek!" you cried, and the next thing you knew, all the lights were back on.

You and Jake stayed where you were for a few moments, long enough for the freezers in the back to start buzzing again. As if someone just snapped their fingers, everything turned back on. The bright lights hitting your darkness-adjusted eyes made your eyes water.

"Oh," Jake said plainly. "The lights are back on."

"No shit, Sherlock," you muttered, earning a pinch to your side. It was now that you and Jake really realized your current positions: you were on top of him, with your head resting on his shoulders, with his arms wrapped around your waist. And it seemed like the two of you realized this at the same time.

"We should—" Jake averted his gaze from you, finding the floor next to him very interesting.

"Yeah, you're right, we should—" you slowly pulled away from him, grimacing at the feeling of Jake's arms slipping away from you.

"Yup, and—" Jake trailed off, not fully completing his thought.

Awkward.

The two of you were back on your feet in no time, both with slightly-disheveled work uniforms, but hey, it was to be expected.

Together, the two of you inspected the parlor. Just in case something slipped in while it was dark (even though that was virtually impossible).

Everything was exactly as you left it.

The mop that you dropped on the floor, your phone on the counter, the keys to the freezer that Jake threw by accident, even the messy chairs.

"Are you scared right now?" Jake asked with a chuckle as you stayed close behind him, your fingers clutching his broad shoulders. From time to time you'd peek around him, but for the most part, you stared straight at his back, unwilling to look ahead. Just in case a monster jumped out!

"I'm not." Lie.

Jake laughed, but before he could poke fun at you more—

Boom!

Oh right, the storm.

Like a cat, you jumped almost immediately, gripping Jake's shoulders for dear life.

Jake peeked out the windows. The streetlamps and signs were illuminated again.

"Looks like all the lights are back up," he said. He glanced over his shoulder to you, who clung to him. "I think we can go home now. The storm's dying down already."

You nodded, and the two of you finished closing up in silence, before preparing to leave.

"Do you have a ride?" Jake asked you as the two of you packed up your things.

Shit.

"My mom was going to pick me up because she didn't want me driving late at night," you groaned. "I'll call her right no—"

"No," Jake shook his head, reaching inside his pocket. You watched as he really shoved his hands in there, like he was searching for something. At last, after digging through his pockets for what felt like hours, he pulled out a bunch of keys, with a tiny lego keychain dangling off of it. "I'll drive you home."

After that day, you weren't called into work again for a few days. In those few days, for some weird reason, you couldn't get Jake off your mind. Which you thought was weird.

You never really thought about Jake aside from work. And it wasn't even the fact that you were thinking about him! It was the fact that you felt weird for feeling weird about thinking about him. If that even made sense.

He's always been cute. Gentlemanly, too.

When he drove you home the other day, he insisted that you didn't need to pay him back for driving you home. In fact, he said that he'd rather use more gas than have you wait alone at the parlor to be picked up. He opened and closed the door for you, showed you how to control the heaters so that you could be warm, and even let you play your music!

He was reliable too, someone that you knew you could count on. And he was very kind, because no matter how many rude customers there were, he understood that everyone was human and served them with a smile. Unlike you, who always exercised that "we reserve to deny you service" right.

These were all things that you knew. It was no surprise. You knew these things.

But after that day, you couldn't help but feel like it was... amplified.

Jake was cute, but now he was cuter. Way cuter.

He felt even more gentlemanly and reliable and kind now. Him going out of his way to comfort you, even if it meant that you had to listen to his god-awful music, warmed your heart.

And that was the weird part.

It was just so odd. You couldn't stop thinking about him. And you felt all weird and mushy for thinking about him, which made you feel even weirder!

You didn't really get it.

Surely, it wasn't a crush.

It wasn't like you were all over the place, distracted and spacy and blushing now that Jake was on your mind. You weren't rolling around and kicking your feet, nor were you giggling.

But you would be lying if you said that the simple thought of his name didn't make you excited.

Meanwhile, Jake knew exactly what was happening to him.

And it was that his crush on you definitely deepened tenfold.

In the moment, when he was with you, whether it be the other day or any other day at all, he was always nonchalant. It was a casual crush, he'd say. Everything was straightforward with no games to play.

But that was a lie.

Because here he was, lying on his bed and staring at his ceiling. He hugged his pillow, embarrassingly pretending that it was you. He felt like a weirdo, but he couldn't get the feeling of you clinging to him and in his arms out of his head!

Just the mere thought of that night made him have to roll around and giggle for a few moments.

Jake sucked in the scent of his pillows. Unfortunately, they didn't smell like you, just like laundry with a faint scent of his own cologne.

You were so pretty, and cool, and kind, and smart, and practical, and just everything good in the world. And then when you got scared and clung to him, it made his heart flutter, because who knew you could be so cute?

Jake let out a squeal into his pillow, his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling.

For the first time ever, Jake actually wanted to go to work. Just to see you.

He couldn't wait for it.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," you said for the millionth time today. "We don't have that here—"

Another day at work. Just when the idea of going to work didn't sound too bad, you're reminded why you hate it.

Apparently some kids on TikTok spread a rumor that your parlor had a special, limited-edition, summer unicorn flavor. And even worse, your damn social media manager was hinting at it on Instagram, too.

So here you were now, trying to explain to a hoard of angry customers that this limited-edition unicorn flavor was absolutely false. To think that your own social media manager would betray you and your coworkers like this just to attract more customers... You shouldn't be unsurprised but you were.

Diabolical.

It must've been the 90th time in the past hour that you had to explain that you had no fucking clue what a unicorn flavor would be, and if you weren't a tired and overworked teenager, you would've felt bad when a little girl bursted into tears in the middle of the store.

Cry about it, you thought, and you couldn't tell if that sentiment was towards your angry customers, or if it was towards upper management that were about to get multiple complaints about you.

Breathe, you had to tell yourself. It's not worth it. Where was everyone else anyway? You couldn't believe that you were left completely alone to operate the establishment on your own. And most of your coworkers were older than you anyway. Those bums!

You sucked in another breath, putting on your best smile.

"You're telling me that you don't actually have the limited-edition unicorn flavor?!" an angry father crossed his arms, upset with his children cowering beside him.

"No, sir," you said as politely as you could. "That was just a rumor. My apologies for the inconven—"

"Unacceptable!"

You winced, feeling your ears warm up. If everyone in the parlor wasn't already watching you like a hawk, all eyes were now on you.

"I had to drive two hours here," the father slammed his hand on the counter, leaning in so close that you could smell him. "I drove two hours here for unicorn ice cream and you're telling me that it was all a lie?!"

All of this.... for ice cream?"

"I apologize, sir," you hung your head low to appear genuine, clasping your hands together. "That must have been a long ride and—"

"Shut up and give me my ice cream, you bi—" Your eyes widened a fraction as you saw a big palm swinging your way... Was he about to slap you? In the milliseconds that you could even react, you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for the stinging feeling of a hand against your cheek.

But instead, you felt nothing, only the sound of a few gasps and light chuckling.

"Hey, there, sir," you heard Jake's voice as you peeled your eyes open.

Jake was beside you, his hand wrapped around the man's wrist that was mere inches away from your face.

"J-Jake?!"

The man struggled in Jake's grip, attempting (and failing horribly) to pull his wrist out of Jake's hand.

"Let go of me, boy!" he yelled. Everyone's eyes were on the scene now. How embarrassing.

Jake narrowed his eyes, tightening his grip.

"Here at Layla's Ice Cream Parlor, we reserve the right to deny any patron service," he said plainly.

The man scoffed. "And are you about to deny me service? What are you, the manager?"

Jake only shook his head calmly.

"You were about to assault my coworker here," he motioned toward you, then to the man's still-raised hand. "I don't need to be any manager to realize that someone of that sort has no business here."

Jake shot him a smile, before roughly letting go of his wrist, letting it fall to the counter.

"Please leave, sir."

He glanced around the room, noticing the way everyone stared at him. Another tight-lipped smile spread on his face.

"There are no limited-edition summer flavors, so if that is what you are here for, I apologize for the disappointment. " Jake glanced at you. "Please help yourself to the flavors that we actually have."

With that, Jake took you by the wrist, pulling you into the breakroom.

"W-Wait Jake—!" you tried to pull out of his grasp. "There's still customers out there."

He gently pushed you down onto a chair.

Jake crouched down at your sitting figure, putting his hands on your knees. He squeezed them playfully. "You've done enough today. I'll handle the rest."

"But— But there's a lot of people today," you reasoned, placing your hands on his. "You can't run the entire place on your own...!"

But before the last syllables could even leave your lips, Jake was already retying his apron, fixing his dumb uniform hat. Before he slinked away through the door, he glanced over his shoulder, gripping the door frame.

"I'll prove you wrong," he said with a grin. "Just watch."

(You were right, he was wrong. Not even the most exemplary worker like Jake could handle an entire exuberant ice cream parlor by himself. The moment you saw his tired eyes you were already throwing on your apron. Though, you got a good laugh out of it afterwards.)

You deadpanned.

This was not what you signed up for.

It was Saturday, the day that you swore was your break day from work. And then all of a sudden you got an urgent call from your manager and you rushed to work immediately.

You thought that the parlor got robbed, or maybe something broke down.

Nope.

"You want me..." you blinked, "To wear that?!"

Lo and behold, before you was a comically large ice cream costume, with a brown waffled body for the cone and the most obnoxious white swirl reaching high in the ceiling, with only a circular cut-out to see your face.

Apparently, sales were dwindling, so your managers decided to try out some new advertising.

You were going to wear that godforsaken ice cream costume and hang outside the parlor to attract customers.

"Kid-friendly language only," your manager instructed you matter-of-factly. "No swearing, no saying mean words."

You tuned him out.

And if the walk of shame out of the bathroom in your ice cream costume wasn't bad enough, you were hit with the last thing you wanted to see: Jake Sim.

You were about to jump and shriek and let the ground open up and devour you whole... when you realized that he was wearing an ice cream costume too...!

"You too?!" you cried. Behold, in front of you stood your favorite coworker Jake Sim with an equally deadpan expression, clad in the ridiculous ice cream costume.

"Yup," Jake muttered, popping the p. "I guess we'll never be free."

And he was indeed correct.

There was truly nothing more mortifying than standing outside the damn ice cream parlor, holding an even more obnoxiously bright sign and trying to attract customers... all in your humiliating ice cream costume.

Kids laughed at you from across the street. Cars that passed by you probably did the same. Absolutely demoralizing.

"Come to Layla's Ice Cream Parlor," you said in a monotone voice, trying your very best to not burst into tears of sheer embarrassment. "We have ice cream... and... uh—"

You glanced at Jake, whispering to him, "What else do we have?"

"Ice cream." He said, absolutely no expression in his voice or face. Oh god, we must have lost him too! "Nothing but ice cream."

Poor guy, he looked like he wanted to disappear.

This must have been a punishment, or something. Maybe a humiliation ritual. But after a good ten minutes, you and Jake just decided to commit to the bit. After all, you were getting paid extra for this.

"Ice cream, ice cream!" you and Jake chanted as you paraded around the vicinity of the parlor. After all, there was nothing you could do but make the best of it. You went out of your way to speak to oncoming customers, advertising with the most energy you could. "Come to Layla's Ice Cream!"

But it wasn't always easy.

Like always, customers and children were rude.

"Hello, miss, are you interested in trying some of Layla's yummy yummy ice cre—" and then you got laughed at. Like actually. They just started pointing and laughing at you. Like you were some freak.

And then Jake tried to square up some little kids a few times, it was a mess.

And finally, after what felt like years out there trying to advertise to people, your manager finally called you guys back in. Apparently, you and Jake did such a wonderful job that you guys were needed back at the front. Your coworkers couldn't seem to keep up. Lazy asses.

You and Jake went back inside to change back into your work uniforms— those stupid blue and white sailor uniforms. Except, one of your coworkers was having an "emergency" in the staff bathroom (you were certain it was just Beomgyu sitting on the toilet with his phone and refusing to do his job), so both you and Jake had to change in the staff break room.

At the same time.

"Okay, you will change, and I will cover you—"

"Shut up!" you exclaimed. "Why can't we just change at the same time?"

Jake was being terribly awkward about it.

"B-Because!" he reasoned, unable to hide the way he couldn't look you in the eye. "Because.... you're a girl, and I'm a guy!"

"Aaaaand?" you drew out your syllables, crossing your arms over your chest.

"We can't possibly change in the same room?" Jake cried. "What if— What if I accidentally see your—"

Your cheeks warmed up. What was he on about? "You're not going to!"

Your boss was really annoying about punctuality, so you and Jake should probably change quickly anyway. You ignored Jake's fussing, raising your arms as you began to pull your shirt over your head.

"What are you—"

"Just change!"

In the end, you guys just did the easiest option: turning around so that you faced opposite directions while the other changed... which should have been intuitive for Jake (but he's a little slow).

When you two were both done changing, you turned back around to face Jake, about to let out your grievances about working.

Except, when you saw him, you couldn't help but let out a giggle.

Because your work uniform was supposed to resemble that of a sailor, there were a few complex pieces, such as the sailor scarf draped over your shoulders and neck. Usually, you need a mirror to tie it properly. There was also the damn paper sailor hat that you had to wear.

Since you weren't changing in the bathroom, there was no mirror, so poor Jake's hat and tie were sloppily done, crooked on his person.

"Jake," you smiled, motioning for him to come toward you. And when he was close enough, you yanked him even closer to you by his shoulders, causing him to let out a yelp.

"W-What are you doing?" he asked, unable to hide the panic in his voice.

You giggled again. Your hands began to work on his tie, undoing his sloppy tie and neatly folding it. "Relax, you big baby."

When you were done with his tie, you fixed Jake's hat, oblivious to the way Jake's ears and neck turned a noticeable shade of red.

"There you go," you said with a grin. "All good!"

Jake looked at you with shaky eyes. You were close to him now. Close enough that he could feel your breath fanning his cheeks. Close enough that if he just leaned in a bit more, he could kiss you— Jake jerked himself away from you abruptly. His heart was pounding in his chest at an abnormal rate.

Don't think about kissing her when she's right in front of you! he scolded himself. You gave him a questioning look, before you just grinned again and left the break room.

Ah, Jake was going crazy.

Man, fuck you Beomgyu! you mentally cursed your other coworker. You were absolutely correct; earlier he was indeed hogging the staff bathroom so that he could shirk his responsibilities. According to Jake, Beomgyu did this really often, to the point that the staff bathroom ran out of soap too fast because Beomgyu was busy playing with soap and making dumb ass bubbles in there.

Of all times, it had to be now that the staff bathroom just decided to run out of soap?

It was getting late, so your manager told you to start cleaning. And just as you began, some little unsupervised middle schooler skateboarded right into you, spilling his three scoops of chocolate ice cream with layers of caramel and peanut butter sauce all over your white uniform.

And all you were given were a few measly napkins to wipe but the sticky sweet mess, only after you cleaned up the mess on the floor. Now as you desperately tried to clean the mess off your uniform in the staff bathroom, you were certain that your manager was going to yell at you later.

As you reached for another hand towel from the dispenser, you let out a groan as you realized that there were no more. Seriously, what was Beomgyu doing in here that he just used up all the soap and paper towels?

"[Name]," you heard a knock on the door. It was Jake. "You good in there?"

You groaned again.

"No!" you cried from the other side of the door. You were frustrated, how bothersome! Even if there were more paper towels, there still was a giant brown stain on your shirt. And you'd probably have to get another uniform. "It looks like a shit stain!"

You heard Jake chuckle from the other side of the door, before his footsteps retreated. After a few minutes, Jake came back.

"Can I come in?" he asked, knocking again on the bathroom door.

"Door's unlocked."

Except, instead of seeing Jake in his usual work uniform, he had a big black hoodie thrown over him, probably one that he was wearing before he changed into his uniform earlier. In his hands was a white shirt.

"Wear this," he said as he shoved the white shirt into your hands.

It was his own uniform shirt.

"But—" you tried to reason with him, but he put his hand up, silencing you.

"Can't have you walking around with a shit stain on your shirt," he said with a cheeky grin, earning him a slap on the arm.

"But you'll get in trouble," you breathed. Your manager was really particular about workers wearing uniforms, and for some reason not about workers actually doing their job.

Jake shrugged. "It's about time I did." And flashed you another smile. "And plus, I was going to get in trouble anyway. Apparently, defending my coworker from a rude customer is punishable."

Ah, the unicorn ice cream incident from a few weeks ago.

Was he really that willing to get in trouble for you?

As you closed the door to the bathroom, you could already hear your manager and another coworker making their comments about Jake. Although you couldn't exactly hear what they were saying, it must have been the usual remarks about inefficiency. And probably about how he wasn't wearing work-appropriate clothes.

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as you listened to their muffled voices.

Jake was really getting in trouble all for your sake.

As you buttoned up his white shirt, you noted that it carried the scent of his cologne. It smelled good, and you instinctively brought the sleeve up to your nose to catch a better whiff. But then you felt weird and stopped immediately.

It wasn't fair. Everything about your job.

You and Jake had to do all the work, but even so, the managers were disproportionately harsher with Jake than they were with you. Probably because of some sexist bullshit.

And then there were rude and entitled customers.

Jake was taking the fall for you too much.

And you couldn't keep letting it happen.

As you made your way out of the staff bathroom, you could hear your manager berating Jake, with another coworker joining in.

"And why are you not in our employee dress code?" your manager chided. "This is unacceptable! A hoodie? What do you think will happen to our store's brand?"

Jake just hung his head low, but you could tell he was annoyed more than anything. "It was because [Name]'s shirt got ruined, and she was uncomfortable."

"And what business do you have with [Name]?" your coworker joined in lambasting the poor Jake.

"Look, man," Jake looked up at them. "I was just helpin' her out." Jake paused for a moment. "And plus it's closing hours anyway. It's not like anyone sees me out of uniform."

Your manager and coworker thought for a few moments, before your coworker said, "Well, you're still causing a hindrance for our parlor. I think we will cut you weekly pay—"

His weekly pay? Ridiculous. Your body moved on its own, and before you knew it, you had bursted through the door.

"I-It was my fault!" you blurted, your lips moving faster than you could think. "Jake was just helping me."

You ignored the way Jake looked at you with eyes big as saucers, surprised. You swiped your tongue over your lip. "I-It's really my fault. If there's anyone that should get their weekly pay cut, it should be me."

Jake's face visibly contorted, his brows crashing together. "[Name]—"

"That's enough," your manager finally spoke up. The older man sighed, before checking his wrist watch. "Jake, [Name], just forget about it. Don't make this mistake again. Just close up for the night."

And with that, you and Jake were left alone once more.

"What was that all about?" Jake asked you as the two of you closed up.

"What was what?"

Jake huffed, leaning on the mop. "You know, what happened earlier about uniforms?"

"Oh." You shrugged, not really paying him any mind. "What about it?"

Jake huffed again. "Y'know... Why did you step in?"

You finally looked at him, before blinking a few times. "Isn’t it obvious?"

Jake smiled. "No, that’s why I’m asking you."

You scoffed playfully. "Okay, smartass."

You paused for a few moments. "You’re my friend, Jake. You’ve protected me in the past, so I'm just returning the favor."

"Thank you," Jake replied, unable to hide the smile growing on his face. "That's very kind of you.

You just hummed in response, going back to cleaning up.

Jake teetered on his feet, back and forth, as he played with his fingers. His heart pounding in his chest, Jake chewed on his bottom lip.

He was nervous.

Just this morning, you texted him if he wanted to hang out with you, because as you said, you were bored.

Hanging out? With you? The hottest girl that he's ever seen? There was no way in hell that he'd say no to such a golden opportunity.

You'd told Jake to meet you at the pier, because there was a nice mall area around there. As you relayed in your texts, you were going on vacation in a few weeks, and needed to go shopping for it.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't have any ulterior motives. You weren't really sure how you felt about Jake. He was cute, and sweet, and you definitely wanted to get to know him better. And there was a part of you that desperately wanted to impress him.

Maybe today could be an opportunity for you.

You checked your reflection in the car window before you got out of your mom's car. Muttering a "bye," you made your way toward where you told Jake to meet you.

It was a sunny day. You chose to wear something breathable, a pretty pink sundress with a cardigan. You didn't dress like this on most days. You liked to opt for dark colors, but today you wanted to be... cute.

Pretty for Jake.

You spotted Jake pretty easily. Not because he had anything that made him physically easy to identify, not at all. It was more like... you simply could just spot him. It was like you had a newfound Jake-radar.

"Hi," you said with a smile. And for some reason, it seemed like Jake was startled, with his eyes widening as he caught sight of you. "Are you okay?"

Jake stared at you for a few moments, and you swore you saw the way his eyes looked you up and down. His lips parted, and he sucked in a sharp breath as he swiped his tongue over his lips.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. You didn't wear light colors normally, was it obvious that this dress was not something that you usually wear? Did you look strange? Maybe you should've worn your typical black clothing, and—

"N-No," Jake stammered, his eyes still looking you up and down. Truth be told, he had to bite back a "damn." Because yes, damn, you looked hot. "You look— You look nice today."

Your cheeks prickled with warmth. "Oh. Thank you."

"You don't..." Jake continued, as if he was on autopilot. You were beginning to feel really shy when you realized that he was really staring at your chest area. "You don't wear pink often, do you?"

You averted your gaze. "You're right, I don't." How embarrassing! So he notices the things you wear... and he probably 100% knows that you don't wear pink at all. "Does it look weird, or—"

"No!" Jake blurted, before catching himself. He cleared his throat, his ears a warm shade of pink. "Not at all. I really, uh, meant it when I said— When I said you looked nice."

You nodded slowly. Was it normal to feel so warm? Maybe you should check the weather again?

"Really nice," Jake echoed himself. If you weren't busy feeling shy yourself, you would have noticed Jake checking you out for the 50th time already.

You murmured a brief "thanks," before you quickly changed the subject.

"Shall we go?"

It was unusual to feel awkward or shy around Jake, and vice versa. You knew for sure that Jake was a special person, but it never affected you. For Jake, he was determined to be calm and nonchalant when it came to you. And plus, your friendship was always casual anyway.

Which was why all of your shyness dissipated pretty quickly.

You took Jake along to all the spots at the pier's mall area.

"What are you looking for?" Jake asked as he trailed after you. Jake will never understand women. You've been to 4 stores already, and all you've done is touch things and say, 'Oh this is cute.' And then you'd leave.

You shrugged. "Cute things for vacation."

Jake looked around, through the store mirrors as you two traversed the mall area. "Any preferences?"

You shrugged again. "I like dark colors, but I don't mind brighter colors for vacation, yaknow?"

Jake hummed.

The two of you walked around for a little longer until you stopped in front of a store.

"What's this?" Jake asked.

You grinned. "A swimsuit store."

Listen, Jake wouldn't consider himself an easily-excitable guy. He wasn't pervy, either. Especially toward you! He was nonchalant!

But as he entered the girly swimsuit store, he couldn't help but redden at the thought of you in some of these swimsuits. Some of them were provocative and cheeky, making Jake's stomach do flips as his mind crept into places that made it hard for him to make eye contact with you. Other ones were cute and frilly, arguably making Jake's heart pound even faster as he imagined you in them.

"Hey, what do you think about this one?" you asked Jake as you took one of the suits off the rack.

On the inside, Jake was already drooling at the thought. But on the outside he simply nodded, giving a playful smile and a thumbs up. And really, he thought that if he could maintain that attitude for the rest of the time in this swimsuit store, he'd be fine.

But he was wrong.

"Okay, I'm gonna try these on, and I'll have you give me feedback."

What.

What?

And so Jake sat in the couches in front of the changing rooms, simply awaiting his death.

He's not weird, he swears. He doesn't want to be creepy or gross toward you.

But how could he not sweat and basically hyperventilate in these changing rooms when the hottest girl that he's ever seen (you) is about to ask him for his opinion on swimsuits?

Jake was certain that no matter what, you would look hot.

And he was proven correct when you slipped out of the changing rooms.

"Okay, first one," you said, in a voice that was a little too relaxed. You went on your tiptoes, doing a few turns here and there so that Jake could see the full extent of the suit on you. "What do you think?"

And oh.

Good lord.

Jake was really trying his best not to make you uncomfortable.

But there was absolutely no way that he could just sit there and not react. His jaw quite literally dropped the moment he saw you.

The way the suit hugged your body, the way the colors illuminated your skin, the way you were 100% feeling yourself in it— All of it was making Jake 2 seconds away from crashing out.

You must have been a goddess. Or maybe Jake saved a country in his past life.

"It looks— You look— I— You—" he stumbled over his words. There were no words to describe how you looked. You looked downright beautiful. Like, if Jake died now he wouldn't mind. And when you giggled at his reaction, he took a deep breath. Don't be a weirdo! he told himself.

"You look beautiful," he breathed, finally catching himself. His eyes flickered back up to your pretty, pretty face. "You look really beautiful in this one."

"Thank you," you smiled at him. You did another twirl, something that you definitely knew drove him crazy. And if you hadn't noticed him checking you out, Jake was certain that you definitely knew now.

And maybe Jake didn't know enough about women. Because he really believed that that one swimsuit was the only one that you were trying on.

And he was so wrong.

Because there were at least 3 more that you wanted to show him!

Oh, he wasn't going to survive this.

Well, Jake did survive.

After insisting on carrying your shopping bag full of your new swimsuits (Jake didn't dare peek inside because he thought he'd combust), you decided to do some more exploring.

You got some food to munch on, and went to all types of stores. And you took many pictures, too! Pictures together, of you trying on hats and sunglasses. Candid pictures of each other, many of which where you look pretty without even trying and Jake's mind is blown.

More exploring, walking, sitting down, walking, and then sitting for 30 minutes because both of your feet hurt. A lot of laughing, a lot of dumb conversations, and even more laughing.

And before you knew it, it was getting dark out. Suddenly, the sound of the waves crashing filled the air, the cool beach wind blowing against your cheeks. 

"Let's go walk along the shore!"

And so you did.

The orange sky was fading into a dark blue, and yet, the sun still shone so brightly as it submerged into the horizon. The water gently rocked against the shoreline, while the scent of sea salt and seaweed filled your senses.

It was a cool evening, and you tugged on the sleeves of your cardigan to warm your cold hands.

By now, the beach was quiet. Many people had already left, as it was slowly becoming nighttime.

In quiet moments like this, you couldn't help but fully conceptualize Jake as a person.

He was a handsome boy your age. He was kind, sweet, responsible, silly, everything great in a person. And he had a similar music taste to you, too. And here he was, walking alongside you as the sun set.

Your eyes fluttered over to him. His eyes were trained on the sand below his feet, appreciating the way the wet granules covered his skin.

He was a straightforward person. Things went from A to B with him easily. No games, nothing to hide. And yet, you felt like there was so much to discover about him. There was an entire world undiscovered in his head. And you wanted to be a part of it.

"What are you thinking about?" you asked suddenly, interrupting the calm silence.

"You."

.

.

.

You?

You could feel your heart picking up speed, but you kept your composure. Meanwhile, you swore your skin was prickling with an uncharacteristic warmth.

"I-I mean—" Jake seemed to snap out of his daze. "I— I was just thinking about you, and work, and summer, and—"

You blinked, but your lips spread into a tight smile. You didn't know why you felt disappointed.

You sucked in a breath. "The water's really nice tonight."

"Mhm," Jake agreed. He wasn't blind. He could see the way your face fell ever so slightly. He could see when you felt flustered or shy because of him.

But what if he was misinterpreting things? What if his eyes were playing tricks on him?

But then you'd look up at him with those shiny eyes, almost like you were begging him to give you his heart.

Just go for it.

His eyes dropped to your hands, which were still tugging on your sleeves to keep warm.

Jake clicked his tongue. Boldly, he grabbed your hands, clasping them in yours.

"Hey!" you cried.

"Geez, your hands are so cold," he murmured, before locking his fingers with one of your hands. As if nothing happened, Jake just continued walking along the shore, this time with your hand in his.

You stared at your interlocked fingers for a few moments, before you swallowed all of your shyness and continued trailing with him.

The two of you returned to walking in silence, nothing but the sound of the water and your breaths filling the air.

Jake wasn't lying when he said he was thinking of you, because he really. He always was. And just as he was about to fall back into thought, your hand pulled away from his.

With curious eyes, Jake watched as you silently pulled out a tiny plastic case from your purse.

Your earbuds.

You plugged them into your phone, before jamming one of the buds into your own ear. You looked at Jake expectantly, and he took the second earbud graciously.

You bit back a laugh as you turned on your music.

The second you pressed 'play,' a hardy bass and an unforgettable drumline played into your ears.

"Are you serious?" Jake immediately snapped his head at you. "Fleetwood Mac?!"

You laughed, throwing your head back. "I wasn't about to let you ruin the beach vibe and play Bon Jovi."

"I don't only listen to Bon Jovi—!"

And just as you and Jake were enjoying music, the beach, and most importantly, each other, Jake's phone rang. And of course, his ringtone was a Bon Jovi song.

You gave him a look as his lips spread into a goofy smile.

Not daring to tear out the earbud, he picked up his phone and listened with his other ear.

And even though it was nearly nighttime by now, you could still see how Jake's face morphed.

When he hung up, his face dropped.

"They need me to take someone's shift."

Oh.

This was really, very, genuinely, seriously annoying.

Because unfortunately, the truth was that if they needed Jake to work, then they probably needed you to work too.

Because they always needed you and Jake to work.

And so, here your (not-so official) date was ending.

Apparently, it was extremely urgent, and they insisted on paying Jake extra if he came. Not to worry, because he texted your manager to make sure that you'd get extra pay if you came along, too.

The moment that you stepped into the parlor, you could feel all the joy leaving your body. You swore that Layla’s Ice Cream Parlor had evil spirits in there, designed specifically to simply fill your body with dread.

You put on one of the spare work uniforms that the parlor had in the back. It was a little big, and a little itchy, but whatever.

When Jake got the phone call and explained to you the situation, you were fully expecting a packed parlor, with a line that went out the door and your incompetent coworkers couldn't handle it, or something. But now that you were in the parlor, you realized that that was just a load of bullshit.

"Empty," Jake muttered behind you. "There is absolutely no one here."

You hummed in agreement, equally deadpan.

Those lazy bums.

They just didn't want to work the closing shift. They just didn't want to do the cleaning or locking up. They just wanted you to take their shifts so that they could go home and relax.

And so here you two were, just lazing around in the breakroom, just trying to pass the time. You let your phone play some random playlist.

"I'm sorry," Jake said, with his cheek pressed against the breakroom table. "We were hanging out and I decided to take us to work."

"Nah, you're justified," you said lazily. "They're promising us extra pay, so it's fine."

The room went silent again, but you could tell Jake was thinking something. And indeed, he was.

Jake felt horrible! Although you did agree to come to work with him, he still felt back. Did he just fumble your first (unofficial) date? God, he's so stupid! Now you two were stuck in the worst place on earth.

He stared at your bored expression.

He couldn't let you stay bored.

Without a word, he got up from his seat in the breakroom and disappeared out to the front. You could hear some cluttering and buzzing.

"Close your eyes!" he yelled before he came back to where you were in the breakroom. And you complied.

"What are you doing, Jake?" you asked, but you couldn't help but smile. He was definitely up to some antics.

"Just close your eyes," he instructed you, before sitting down with you at the breakroom table again.

Jake clasped his hands together. "I have three cups of ice cream here. You will close your eyes and guess which one is which."

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you serious?"

"Yes!" Jake laughed. "We can't get bored in here."

You chuckled. "Okay, fine."

Jake watched you intently as he spoon-fed you the first spoonful of ice cream.

The first flavor was strawberry, your personal favorite.

Maybe it was getting late, or maybe Jake was just too obsessed with you, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the way your pretty lips opened up for the ice cream. He was simply so mesmerized by the way you licked your lips, relishing in the way the sweet strawberry ice cream melted on your tastebuds.

"This is so obvious," you nudged him, kicking him from under the table. "At least make it hard for me!"

Jake rolled his eyes playfully. "Just guess!"

You huffed, mumbling something about him being stupid under your breath. "Strawberry. Duh."

"Woo hoo!" Jake cheered for you. "It was strawberry!"

"Yeah, no shit, Sherlock."

The second flavor was ube. Which you guessed almost immediately.

"Next flavor, please," you giggled. "This game is too easy,"

But Jake wasn't listening to you in the slightest.

Just why did you have to start licking the spoon clean? The way your glossy lips wrapped around the spoon, your tongue wrapping around the smooth plastic, and now he was feeling all types of things, and—

"Seriously, make it harder for me!"

Jake gulped.

The last flavor he had was salted caramel. His own personal favorite.

He'd already taken a few bites out of it.

He glanced at your lips, then down at the salted caramel ice cream.

Even under the corporate light of the break room, you still glowed so prettily. And you must have been doing it on purpose, the way you were keeping the spoon in your mouth, with your lips wrapped around it so prettily.

Jake's eyes flickered back to your lips once more, then to the salted caramel ice cream.

His heart was already pounding in his chest. All the blood was rushing to his head and Jake thought that he'd faint.

Your lips were just so damn pretty.

It seemed like something was possessing Jake's body. While his mind was frozen on your lips, his body was moving on its own.

He reached out for you first, his large hand taking solace on your shoulder.

And in one, fluid motion, Jake leaned in, and closed the gap between his lips and yours.

Your lips were soft and sweet, like clouds. Jake's eyes had unconsciously fallen shut, and the moment that he realized that he was kissing you, they shot open. However, just as he was about to pull away, because oh my god he was kissing you, and he didn't even ask!, Jake felt your hand slither up around his neck.

You pulled him in even closer, deepening the kiss.

Jake felt dizzy. It was the way your tongue dipped into his mouth when he let out a little gasp. Or maybe it was the way your fingers ran through his hair, almost as if you were desperate to keep his lips on yours. Your everything— your hands, your lips, your scent— they were all driving him insane.

Jake didn't want it to end, and if it weren't for his need for air, he wouldn't have pulled away. Ever.

The two of you sat there, breathless, staring into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity. Jake's cheeks were red, his pupils blown out with desire. His eyes fell down to your lips.

"Salted caramel," you breathed, your hands sliding down to his shoulders. You squeezed his shoulders. "You taste like salted caramel— kiss me if that's the answer—"

And you didn't need to ask him twice, because Jake was already crashing his lips against yours.

There was something so addictive about your lips. The way you moaned against his lips, the way you clung onto him like you needed him, it was all driving him crazy.

Jake needed more, he needed you.

In his head, it was all just you, you, you.

"I want you so bad," Jake mumbled against your lips. "Please."

He could feel you giggle, but he simply just slides his hand around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved against his in ways that were too perfect to be real. Jake felt like he was in heaven. You were heaven. You were angelic, you were godly, you were—

"Um, excuse me, are you guys still open?"

!!!

You and Jake jumped away from each other.

Shit.

It was still store hours.

"Are we going to get fired?"

Now it was actually closing hours.

You and Jake started cleaning after you were so rudely interrupted, and now it was time to close up.

And it was awkward.

Your heart was practically leaping out of your chest. It felt like forever since you shared your kisses with Jake. And now, you craved his lips once more.

But what if it was just on the whim? What if Jake just did it to do it?

You just wanted him so bad. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to feel him again.

"For what?"

You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes refusing to meet Jake's.

"Kissing coworkers."

"No!" Jake's cheeks flared up. "Of course not!"

"Then..." your brows furrowed. Your face felt hot to the touch. You felt like you were going to get a heart attack. Seriously, you felt like you were burning up, all the while you felt frozen in time and space. You slowly looked up at Jake. "Then can we... you know... keep doing it?"

.

.

.

"I— I mean, if you don't mind— and if it's not something that we could get fired for—" you stammered— "Then can we... you know— can we keep kissing?"

Jake was already on it.

“Eek, Jake, lock the doors first!”

After a few more weeks of hiding in the storage closet to makeout, and honestly straight up shirking your responsibilities to kiss in the breakroom, you and Jake did the unthinkable.

"We resign!"

Your manager looked at you incredulously. "W-What?"

You and Jake smiled. "We quit."

You've never felt more free. With your boyfriend at your side, it seemed like the summer was endless.

BONUS

"Did I ever tell you that I liked you?" you asked Jake, in his car just moments after you quit your job.

"I don't think you did, babe," Jake laughed.

"Oh."

You should probably put that on your to-do list.

You glanced at your boyfriend. How his lips looked so kissable.

Sigh. You'll tell him what you like later. It's time to kiss!

note: please reblog n comment if you enjoyed! xoxo vanya >_<

[iinthehexcore]

kindergarten teacher

summary: With the new rules set in line, it meant the children of the Undercity could finally attend Piltover's school. To avoid potential conflicts, a couple Enforcers are tasked to guard the building, including Steb.

content: headcanon that steb was born in the undercity, use of y/n, teacher!reader, does not quite follow the original s2 storyline, it has more in common with the au episode! just imagine the councilors office survived lol! also have the headcanon that steb is not always quiet, fem reader!

2,378 words

a/n: i hope this is like how you imagined! i have heard of abbott elementary but i haven't watched it myself... hihi, nonetheless, enjoy! if i don't see you guys anymore, then also a very happy new year!

⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

"Well, you're from the Undercity, aren't ya? Perfect job for you."

Steb nearly rolled his eyes at the comment, but didn't speak up. No matter how much his colleagues annoyed him, they did have a point. If anything, out of all Enforcers, he would be the best there. As one of the only Undercity-born Enforcers, he would know how it felt. The stares, the hushed comments, the nerves of being in a new place where you knew people hated you.

It was unbelievable. Jayce and Viktor had done it. Though Jayce's wording was... unusual for a Councilor, they got what they wanted. Piltover and the Undercity, both at peace, both independent. The vents finally rid the air of the thick smoke and harmful chemicals, the bridge opened, and the Undercity finally received the help they desperately needed.

Homes rebuilt, lights installed, streets cleaned. And now, access to school. The Undercity was filled with geniuses, waiting to unlock their talents and show their skills to whoever would listen. Improving the world, improving their home. Sure, there was something you could call a school in the Undercity, but it wasn't necessarily a priority. No use in sitting in class if you were starving.

But now, there you stood. A proud and excited teacher who had just hung up, albeit a very uneven, banner. 'Welcome!' it read in bright, bold letters, decorated with flowers and stars. It had taken you an entire evening to put it together, but you could finally say you were proud of your work. Not every teacher was as... excited as you were. When the news came out that the Undercity would become independent and that Councilor Talis and Viktor wanted to open a school for the new students, not everyone was enthusiastic.

"We don't want Undercity dirt on our polished streets," they seethed, "Keep 'em out of here!"

Even a teacher or two who had already been working at the school disagreed with the choice. They had nothing to say though - an Undercity class would be formed, whether they liked it or not. And you, being excited to meet the new students, were chosen to become their teacher. 'Chosen'. You practically volunteered, arm raised in the air as you waved it around. Getting along with your coworkers was hard enough, but you could not imagine having a teacher like that. Coming from the Undercity into Piltover for education was already a scary step, and if you could make it easier, then that was what you would do. Who knows, what if you ended up having a genius inventor in your class?

With only minutes until the bridge officially opened, the small group of Enforcers stood near the school with Steb leading them. The quiet but intimidating man was 'put in charge'. As you hopped out of the doors, you nearly stumbled, your heel stuck on the doorframe. The tumble made Steb immediately turn his head as he saw, what he assumed to be, a teacher flat on the ground. With one glance and a nod to his team, he walked through the entry gates, not stopping before he went up to you.

You groaned as you pushed yourself up, wiping your hands before looking down at your busted knee. Great - there goes the good impression that you wanted to make. A shadow appeared over you, and as you looked up, you saw the enforcer that previously stood much further away. He acted fast, pulling at the small first aid kit on his thigh and opening it, revealing an array of different bandages, creams, and wipes.

"Oh!" your eyes widened, "No, it's okay. I am meeting my class in only a few minutes and I don't want to trouble you!"

"It is of no trouble," his smooth voice sounded, his hands working meticulously to fish the scissors and bandages out of his pack, "If it doesn't get cleaned properly, it could form a problem in the future."

The scrape was barely bleeding, but the hero in Steb's heart needed to help the poor woman. From what he could see, all the other teachers stayed hidden inside, not even taking a minute to greet the new pupils. Yet you... There was something about you.

"Well, in that case..." your voice trailed off, watching the man clean your scrape and placing a bandaid on it, "Thank you so much, sir!"

"With pleasure," he packed up his kit again as his ears twitched, the school bell ringing.

He held out his hand to gently pull you up before nodding once, his pack back on his thigh and his hands clasped behind his back as he walked to where he previously stood. It seemed right on time, as the first few students walked over the bridge. Their parents, nearly more nervous than their children were, also seemed rather cautious. The sight of enforcers, albeit not heavily armed, was not too inviting. But you were.

"Oh hello everyone! It's so nice to meet you, I will be your new teacher!" Steb could hear you say, "For all questions or just a simple chat, you can always come to me."

Tensed shoulders relaxed as the kids let themselves go, admiring the playground before cheering, running to whatever it was that piqued their interest.

"Hah, good to see they like it!"

"Miss?" one of the parents spoke up, "A question, if that's okay?"

"Always!"

Steb averted his gaze back to the streets of Piltover. Though most people were not against the people from the Undercity, there was still a group who would want nothing more than the neighboring city to crumble. At first, Steb thought that having more than two enforcers patrolling the school grounds was a bit over the top. What was there to be scared of if the entire class were only young children? But then he came to the realization - it wasn't the Undercity that they had to keep in check, it was Piltover. Though branded as the 'higher ups', when something didn't go their way, some of the inhabitants had a tendency to be rather childish, yet cruel.

"Well, would anyone like to see their classroom?"

High-pitched voices cheered again as they waved at their parents one last time, following their new teacher inside. The rest of the day, or week rather, went rather smoothly. Kids coming over the bridge, more confident as time went on. Finding their talents, finding new hobbies, and making new friends. Only one annoying man tried to bother the school on numerous occasions, blabbering about how his daughter who was 'born and raised in Piltover' shouldn't have to go to school with Undercity children. Thankfully, they got rid of him.

Steb noticed a change in himself. As always, he was punctual, but it seemed like he now was ahead of the clock. At first, he was at school precisely at 8:00 - fifteen minutes before class. Then it became five minutes earlier, then another five, and before he knew it, he was at school at 7:30. He wasn't even aware as to why - it didn't call for it. The news about the new students had already flown over, yet he felt himself pulled to the grounds. The group of enforcers was even cut down to only Steb and another, yet there were talks about wanting to cut it to one enforcer before completely removing them.

"Ah, Steb!" He had told you his name last week, "You are early!"

"Punctual," he nodded, something which made you chuckle.

"Would you care for some tea? I can't have you waiting out in the cold."

It wasn't cold outside, you just wanted a reason to talk to him longer.

"That is very appreciated, thank you."

And so, after mustering up the courage to do so for a long time, you and Steb sat across one another, steaming cups of tea in your hands. The classroom, your classroom, was much more inviting than the other ones Steb saw. Countless drawings on the wall, personalized name tags on the tables, colorful pens in the penholder on your desk.

You had offered your chair to Steb, but he had quickly shook his head. After asking again, he just took matters into his own hands, grabbing the nearest chair before sitting down on it. Maybe he should have looked for another nearest one as his long, slender body now sitting on a chair for a six-year-old. It was a funny sight.

"So yeah, that's how I became their teacher!"

Steb hummed, sipping the tea that had now cooled down significantly. Your company felt so welcoming and warm. It fit you oh so perfectly. He looked at his tea for a moment - was this why he came in so early?

"Officer Steb! Officer Steb!"

You turned your head to the door, a bunch of excited kids cheering as they ran into the classroom, placing their items in their places. You raised an eyebrow with a smile, drinking the last bit of tea.

"That's so silly, my chair is way too small for you!"

"Ah, I suppose you're right," Steb smiled softly, standing up before placing the chair back from where he took it.

You also stood, moving the tea cups out of the way. You didn't know that Steb was such a beloved character in their lives.

"Are you two together?"

Both Steb and you stopped in your tracks as you awkwardly laughed.

"Yes!" one of the girls squealed, "You have to be!"

"Now, now," you huffed, patting Steb's chest, "Officer Steb has lots to do. Say goodbye to Officer Steb!"

Multiple voices rang out as you and Steb walked into the hallway.

"So sorry," you furrowed your eyebrows, "But I did appreciate the tea this morning."

"As did I," he nodded as he said your name, his posture straight as he turned to walk out of the school.

Something about it made your stomach flutter, yet you shook it off and returned to class.

"And, are we ready for reading?"

Three hours later, you stood outside, watching all the kids play on the playground. The difference between when they just arrived and now was nearly insane. They were so much more open and cheerful, finally being able to feel like they fit in.

"Ouch!"

You looked over at the yelp, seeing one of the girls on the ground.

"Oh no!" you jogged over to her, kneeling down as you helped her sit up, "What happened, dear?"

"I tripped," her lip trembled as she held her elbow.

"Need a bandaid?"

Both of you looked up, seeing Steb with bandaids in hand. You let out a relieved sigh, nodding as you rubbed the poor girls' back, watching as her scrape got wiped. Steb, as caring as always.

"Miiiiisssss!!!"

You looked over your shoulder, seeing another kid wave his hands excitedly, most likely wanting to show you something. You give Steb an apologetic look, but he just nods. You mouthed a quick 'thank you' before standing up and walking over to your other student.

"Officer Steb?"

He hummed in response.

"Do you like Miss Y/N?"

He raised an eyebrow, opening the colorful bandaid as he stuck it on her elbow.

"She is my friend, yes."

"But..." she leaned closer, whispering in a hushed voice, "Do you like like Miss Y/N?"

He snorted, huffing as he smiled before raising his pointer finger to his lips as if shushing himself.

"Not a word, Officer Steb!"

It seemed like the pain from her elbow disappeared as she jumped up, immediately racing back to her friend while giggling.

"Anything interesting, 'Officer Steb'?"

"No," he hummed, "Nothing yet, 'Miss Y/n'."

Weeks passed and it was finally winter break. Even though you loved your class dearly, you could use some time off.

"I will see you all soon, okay?"

"See you soon, miss!"

The doors closed as you let out a sigh. Your bag was filled with papers that needed to be graded, pencils to be sharpened, and assignments that needed to be made. A lot to do in only two weeks' time, but the more you did now, the longer you could relax.

So, with a bag filled to the brim and a scarf around your neck, you braved the cold outside. Snow, slippery tiles, and wind. You made it halfway through Piltover without slipping on anything, but it seemed like you wouldn't make it out without at least one bump or bruise.

You yelped as you accidentally stepped on a small patch of ice, yet the impact never came. Gloved, blue hands gripped your waist as they hoisted you back up.

"Steb!"

"We have to stop meeting like this, Miss Y/N," he softly joked, "Are you okay?"

"Well, I think you have successfully avoided me breaking any bones, so I would say so. Are you working?"

He shook his head, holding his helmet in his hands.

"Done for the day. I'm going to change out of uniform and I'm hoping to stop by a cafe for a drink."

You nodded, both quietly standing together. So many things to be said, yet you could not find the right words.

"Well, I-"

"I make great hot chocolates."

Steb raised his eyebrow in surprise, the frills on his cheeks fluttering as he looked at you.

"I, I mean," you stuttered, letting out a chuckle, "If you like hot chocolate, that is. Caramel syrup, and all."

"You are inviting me?"

"Perhaps. To my house, yes. But, if I am overstepping-"

"No," he quickly interjects, clearing his throat, "No, it is very appreciated. I just... I will change? Base is just over there."

"Yes! Yes, no, that's fine."

Steb had never switched out of his uniform that fast in his life.

Only seven minutes later he walked back out of the building, now dressed in something much more casual and even a set of glasses on his nose.

"Ready for the hot chocolate?"

He hummed in response.

"You know, I never knew you wore glasses."

This time, he chuckled before giving you a smile that made your cheeks feel warm.

"Well, there is a lot you have yet to discover."

[richarlotte]

How to start?

First you must let go and free yourself of the idea that you cannot be soft or beautiful while being yourself.

Begin the process of experimentation and find what works for you. Don't rush; take your time and enjoy every step of the process. Leveling up is all about finding something that works for you and that you love.

Choose a topic you love and learn more about it; focus on getting a degree or a certificate, and work your mind. Focusing on education will help you succeed. 

Make a pact to stop fighting with yourself, stop hating yourself, and start appreciating what you have to work with. You must think of yourself as a work in progress instead of a failure. Life is easier when you’re evolving.

Find a way of moving your body that you love and keep doing it. Working out, eating well (80/20), hydrating, and caring for yourself is an integral part of aging well. 

Document, journal, take notes, and write things down. Journaling gave me the ability to look back and see how I felt about things after they’d passed, it kept me on the path moving forward, and it helped me grow up.

Set a goal to meet one new person or do one new activity every month. Focus on slowly building quality relationships with people and finding new hobbies; don’t speedrun through things and hope for the best.

Be sure to save a little here and there, take your time to build up your funds, and don’t spend on things you don’t need. Careless spending will stop your journey before it can begin, and the truth is that you don’t need to overconsume or buy things without really thinking.

Take your time building yourself into the person you want to be. Can you do it in 6 months? Yes, but you should expect to work on yourself for at least a year. 

Prepare to pour into yourself. You’re going to spend a lot of time pouring into yourself and nourishing your own development, and you should be prepared to analyze yourself, both current and past versions. 

Find something you believe in. Be that a culture, a tradition, a religion, a language, a school of thought, or the works of an author. Find something you love, enjoy, and believe in; take it to heart, and bring it to life. 

[simp-ly-writes]

Days & Nights

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.10)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Jayce share 3 days and 3 nights before your move back to Piltover. During these days you both reassure one another's worries for your shared future, go on a date, spend time with friends and family, and pack up your apartment.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, teasing, pet names, sickly sweet fluff (no but seriously), some emotional hurt/comfort (more like reassurances), kissing, suggestive themes, very brief mentions of violence, Evren (OC) being a little pice of shit /affectionately, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 6,050

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: last fic of the year! (2025 sounds so futuristic I hate it here 😭). Also this chapter is kinda filler! next chap wedding? 👀

─────── · ·

─ · · You sit on a lounge within Jayce's hotel room reading one of your new romance novels from your bag. Afternoon passes to early evening and you both had yet to move from your spots, simply enjoying one another's company.

Every time you finished another chapter you would look up and across the room to watch Jayce sign his signature and write letter after letter before sealing each with wax hammer emblem for his house. A part of you felt bad for making him take his work to you and by the sheer amount of letters he had to respond to by the end of the day to make sure they made it back in time...

"Bored of your book already darling?" Jayce asked leaning back in his chair and stretching out his legs. You watch as he picks up his wine glass, swirling the blood red liquid before taking an elegant sip.

"No," you look back down at the page blushing at the desperation of the male love interest and trying to conceal a giggle once they finally kiss, "It's actually getting really good." Jayce watches the way your eyes light up before quickly turning to the next page, the book practically touching your nose as you read the next words carefully before shutting the book and kicking your feet.

Jayce stands, walking over and taking a seat by your feet before extending his hand in a silent ask for the book, you look at his hand and then raised brow- curious. You tuck the book close to your chest shaking your head, "Nope! Sir Antoine is for my eyes only!"

Jayce scoffs, placing his arm across the back on the lounge and his wine on a side table before putting your legs on top of his own and massaging your calves. "Should I be worried about this Sir Antoine?" Jayce teases, giving your leg a squeeze.

You reopen your book, eyes going wide as the scene heats up and you lose yourself again to the text, breathing in sharply through your nose as you read, I want to be your every waking thought, make you feel the ghost of my touch with every step in your walk, understand that you are what makes me breathe. Your jaw drops at what you read- not noticing how Jayce glares at the cover of the book. I have more definition than that guy, he thinks to himself.

You look up from the book to look towards the ceiling, crossing your ankles together as the replay the scene in your head, biting your lip before closing your eyes- and Jayce steals the book as you hastily lean forwards and try and snatch it back.

Jayce stands, your legs falling off his lap as he holds the book up at out your reach. He goes back a few pages, humming and nodding along as you grip his arm trying to force it done to no use. "Jayce!" you plead but your boyfriend simply ignores you and flips to the next page before holding your hip.

"Almost done, just taking notes," Jayce hums, staring down and smiling at your glare before leaning down kissing your nose. You scrunch it, "You don't need notes Jayce," you try and entice his ego into letting the book go but Jayce shakes shakes his head, "apparently I need to do better if you're imaging other men in that brilliant mind of yours."

Its your time to laugh, "Jayce... I was imaging you the whole time." His eyes quickly catch your own, lighting up, mouth in a playful smirk as he marks the page and places it on the lounge before taking you into his arms, "you were now? and what was I doing to you-hm?"

"I mean, you just read it for yourself..." you trail off, playing with the buttons of his dress-shirt and observing the small flowers within the metal design. "Maybe I just want to hear your voice," Jayce counters before pulling away and sitting back at his desk, sighing at the other stack of letters he still has to get through before the end of the day.

You sit back on the lounge picking up the book and flipping to the next more relaxed chapter before reading it aloud for you both, Jayce nods along to the sound of your voice as he slices open another letter and observes it continents.

─────── · ·

─ · · After reading through all of Piltover's words and demands to help Jayce finish up for the day and by having memorized his signature and forging it, you both take the boxes to the front desk to be shipped back home. You grab Jayce's arm while walking down the street and back to your apartment where Ximena and Evren were waiting for you at the kitchen table. "Busy day today?" Evren asks while filling up your glass.

You shrug, "got the marking done for the weekend and helped him with the mail," you explain before stealing a bite off of Jayce's plate watching as he playfully glares at you before returning to his conversation with his mom.

Evren nods, "I'm going to miss you when you're gone..." you smile sadly, reaching your hand over the table to grasp his own, "I'll write to you every week until I annoy you and at that point I'll come for a visit," you explain watching as Evren smiles and squeezes your hand before placing a kiss to the back of it, "I look forwards to then but you have to tell me!"

"Tell you what?" you ask, squinting your eyes- trying to decipher his words before he speaks them to life, "what do you plan to do when you get back? You two moving in together? What are you going to do for work?- or are you gonna be one of those hot little housewives waiting for their man to get home~" Evren teases you with a wink.

You gasp, taking your hand away to cover your mouth, "Evren!" you shout now catching everyones attention at the table as both Jayce and Ximena look between the two of you curiously. Evren leans back in his chair, clutching his stomach as he laughs at your horrified reaction, "I mean... I don't think Jayce would mind-" he manages to speak in between gaps of laughter.

"I hate you," you whine, hiding your face in your hands, head in your lap as Jayce rubs up and down your back only making you feel worse. "You're not making me feel any better, Jayce!" you explain as Jayce slows his movements and leans down to whisper in your ear asking if you're okay.

You quickly sit up, face flushed as you blink away tears from concealing your own silent laughs while pointing a finger and glaring at Evren who simply blows you a kiss. Ximena clears her throat, your eyes snap to her as she looks at you concerned, "what happened, dear? If you don't like the food I can make you something else? If its my son? I apologize, but know that he loves you."

You shake your head, "No, no, the food is delightful as always and Jayce is... yeah," your mind still held up on the housewife comment. Evren chokes on his own drink, picking up his napkin feeling as you kick his shin from underneath the table. "Ouch- hey!" he glares at you staring as you cross your arms over your chest. Jayce sighs, shaking his head with a smile at how you both act like an old married couple together.

Ximena still looks worried as she motions for Jayce to comfort you again, "What did Evren say to upset you?" Jayce asks quietly. You can't look at him, only holding your sights on Evren- daring him to speak first. "Well," Evren sits up in his chair, looking at everyone at the table before keeping his eyes on Jayce for his reaction, eyes shimmering with mischief, "I said that our friend here would give all those high ladies in Piltover a run for their money being the hottest little housewife waiting for their man to get home."

You groan, wanting to become a puddle and seep beneath the floorboards into nothingness. I hate you, I hate you Evren, Why, why why did you say that? You listen as Jayce roars with laughter, feeling his hand caress the back of your head and to your horror, Ximena nods along agreeing with Evren, "I think she holds more class than the entire upper class put together. Oh let me show you the pictures of them together, I enjoyed seeing everyone's jealous faces," Jayce's mom claps her hands together excitedly before grabbing a photo album she's been preparing for your wedding, you want to die.

"Can I just catch a break, please," you beg to the floor watching as Jayce's foot taps the side of yours, you look up to your boyfriend's large eyes holding nothing but care and affection within his irises, "If thats what you want to do, know that I can and will provide for you." You stare at him, watching for a bluff yet Jayce only kisses your forehead before leaning back in his chair, glass in hand as he holds your thigh, squeezing it gently as his mother returns to the table- book in hand.

Evren looks utterly pleased with himself, graciously taking the book, "Damn! You two look so good together, tell me that you still have this dress?" he turns the album around, finger tapping at a photo from Jayce's councillor party. You remember that day vividly, Jayce's hot stare at you throughout the night before carrying you down the hall and then... you bedded another. Jayce tenses beside you, seemingly remembering that fact the same time that you do. He smiles tightly at Evren who quickly looks down to the next page of you and Jayce shopping together, a little girl in your arms.

Evren takes his time looking at that image before passing the album back to Ximena who smiles, "my favourite picture," she comments, closing the book softly before setting it aside. You look around the table before looking at Jayce to find him already looking at you.

Ximena leans over grasping Evren's arm as she whispers into his ear while watching you both with a smile, "It may just be a generational thing but I do hope she considers your words." Evren nods, pulling away before shooting you a horrified look, I promise you I was just kidding, his mouths to you.

─────── · ·

─ · · When night falls you hug Evren goodbye for the night and close the door behind you, Jayce is wiping down the table before looking up at you with a smile. Your eyes feel heavy as you lean against his back and close your eyes with a sigh. Ximena leans against an archway between the kitchen and the living space staring at you both while grasping her hands tightly together underneath her chin.

Jayce raises his arm to get a glimpse of your sleepy form, "tired there are you miss?" he teases, "please know that I have a girlfriend."

"Mmm, I'm sure she wouldn't mind," you murmur back, smiling towards Ximena. "I would think otherwise, I really must go see her if you'll let me go?" Jayce counters, grabbing your hand- interlacing his fingers with your own, gently pulling you off of him. You giggle before running off, "Night, Jayce!" you call from down the hall before closing your door. Jayce scoffs looking towards him mom, "What did I do wrong this time?"

Ximena shrugs, taking the towel from his hands and throws it by the sink, "I haven't got a clue, sweetie," she pats her sons arm looking down at your door, "Maybe she just wants to sleep by herself tonight, nothing wrong with that right?" Jayce lets out a deep long breath, "...yeah I guess." Ximena chuckles before leaving to get herself ready for bed as Jayce debates weather or not to take your couch or to head back to his hotel room.

Suddenly you open your door in one of his shirts as you switch off the lights, "Jayce?" you call, Jayce's heart picks up- hopeful. "C'mere let's sleep-" Jayce races over, picking you up in his arms, closing the door with his foot behind you both before placing you back on your bed.

He quickly undresses himself before sliding himself underneath the covers- smiling as you burrowing your face into the side of his chest with a satisfied hum. "Can we make a rule of not going to bed alone?" Jayce asks softly. You laugh, "Sure, Jayce."

"I'm serious," he speaks softly and your laughter dies, "no matter how angry you are with me or what happens, I just need you there at the end of the day." You press a kiss to his chest, lingering for a moment before pulling away, "same time, anywhere and always."

─────── · ·

─ · · When you step into Evrens office the next day, you are shocked to see his desk covered in cards and parting gifts as various staff and students alike prepare for your impending departure. You smile, ripping through the assortment of ribbons and paper- taking your time to note down each sender and write them a small message back on your break.

Evren looks jealous, taking a look into the various bags and boxes with a huff, "nobody sent me things when I got divorced." You shake your head at your professor friend as he grumbles to himself, stealing a scarf from one of your presents when he thinks you not to be looking before heading to lecture leaving you to conduct office hours.

A knock sounds at the door, "come in!" you yell, quickly disposing of all the wrapping before taking a sip of your now lukewarm coffee. Jayce walks in, jacket draped over his forearm and briefcase in his other hand as he smiles at you. "Do you have a moment for some questions, miss?" he asks, taking a seat in front of Evren's desk. You giggle, taking a seat in his chair before leaning forwards and trying to conceal your smile. "I have all the time in the world for you, Jayce-my-boy, whatever are your questions, young student?"

Jayce shakes his head, "I'm afraid its a rather serious affair," he deadpans. "Oh? Do go on then," you wave your hand, leaning back in Evren's chair as Jayce leans forwards on the desk. "I need a dinner date." You gasp, the shock... the outrage!

"I do beg your pardon, pupil. But it would be against policy for me to accept your request," you explain, crossing your legs as you place your head on your palm, elbow resting on the arm of your chair. Jayce pouts, ringing his fingers through his hair, "surely there could be an... exception for your favourite student?"

"Thats quite the bold claim you've made there," you respond, eyes gleaming with humour as Jayce stares at you, trying to figure out how to get you to fold. Suddenly he stands, rounding the table and placing his hands on the arms of your chair, boxing you in.

You lean as far back as back in your chair, staring up at Jayce as his face becomes steadily closer to your own. His hair brushing your forehead, his breath hot against your skin as his eyes flicker between your own and your lips, "I can prove it to you if you allow me to show you," he whispers.

You pause for a moment, looking down at Jayce's lips before trailing down to his neck and tie in which you tug him even closer by, you hear him gasp as your lips brush against his, "show me," you murmur before feeling his lips linger against your own. His hand moves to cup your cheek- tilting your head up to deepen the kiss.

You moan giving Jayce access to explore your mouth, you gasp as his other hands joins to hold your face, fingers brushing your cheeks before pulling away as you both gasp for air. "So can I expect to see you in my room at six?" Jayce asks, thumb brushing up against your lower lip as you give it a teasing lick watching as his eyes darken.

"What should I wear?" you ask.

"Honest answer? nothing," he says with a shrug.

"Jayce Talis!" you scold, he smirks, "Same thing from the gala."

"But you've already seen me in that," you pout thinking about the various other articles you've collected for special occasions and a moment like this. Jayce kisses you once more, "But I didn't get to dance with you in it, kiss you in it, make you feel my hand drag up your leg through the slit or watch as it falls to the floor leaving you bare for my eyes only," he explains watching as your cheeks warm and how you push yourself back on the wheeled chair and into a corner of the room, refusing to meet his eyes that drink in your flustered look.

"I thought you were over that night by now," you mumble underneath your breath looking at Jayce through the corner of your eye as he nods his head contemplating- eyes looking upwards to the ceiling as he considers his next words, "I'll always want more of you- doesn't matter if it's then, now, or the future. Sometimes I fear that we won't have enough time to experience it all..."

Your frown at his words, "I think we've experienced more than the average lifetime, Jayce."

"But... I- just," Jayce sighs, "never mind." You stand and walk over to Jayce, picking up one of his arms and placing it around your waist- pressing a kiss to his jaw, "I'll love you regardless of what you say next Jayce... just as long as its within reason," you try and lighten the mood. Jayce sits with your words before opening his mouth again to speak.

"I just want enough moments we share to be happy ones... we just... so much happened to us that I don't want you to look back and regret choosing me," Jayce whispers, blinking a few times before looking over your shoulder.

"Is this what you've thought for sometime?" you ask worriedly, taking his face into your hands when he refuses to meet your eyes, the silence is telling and your heart aches in response. "Jayce," you whisper his name, trying to call him back to you and out of his negative thoughts.

He slowly turns his head, "sorry for ruining the movement," he kisses your cheek and wraps his other arm around your waist. You both stand there for a moment, feeling one another warmth as you press your lips to his softly, whispering, "No, thank you for sharing that with me, Jayce. Never think you're protecting me from your emotions, I want to hear what you have to say, always."

Jayce nods, pressing his lips against your own as you close your eyes, dragging your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp, you feel as his shoulders drop adding a smile to your kiss. "What?" Jayce asks, eyes brightening as he tilts his head watching your smile grow, "I just love you," you respond with a giggle.

Jayce smiles mirrors your own as he gives you a squeeze, lifting his chin to place atop your head, "I love you too."

─────── · ·

─ · · You held a bouquet of flowers in your arms while trying to knock on Jayce's door... you were a bit early... as in an entire hour early but you thought he wouldn't mind.

─ · · Within the room Jayce was still working, hand gripping the pen tightly as he sighed frustratedly, the numbers were just not adding up for what other regions were demanding from Piltover in return for what they were offering... the upper city had already finished rebuilding after the crises. Local businesses were returning back to their regularly scheduled hours and with the people of Zaun being able to freely come up to the surface and vice versa... the old contracts just did not make sense any longer.

─ · · Jayce gripped his hair, leaning back in his chair as he looked down at his watch, she's coming soon... but I have to get this done... fuck, Jayce thought to himself before standing abruptly at the sound of your knock.

He opened the door, startled to see you all ready, hair all done up and in thee dress, he stared for awhile before remembering to let you inside. You placed the flowers at the foot of the bed, kicking off your heels as Jayce smiled offering his slippers before suddenly remembering his dishevelled appearance.

His shirt was unbuttoned half way, tie left stranded on the desk. His forearms are on display, tattoo dragging up his arm that he scratches the back of his head with- hair a waterfall against his forehead. "Today is just my day it seems," he sighs while looking at the flowers you brought him and he had nothing to offer you, feeling disappointed with himself.

"You look good, my love. I enjoy the relaxed look," you say honestly. Jayce furrows his eyebrows in question, "Jayce..." you laugh fully now, falling back into the bed, "I looked at pictures when you first came back and..." you blush, "...you looked good then." Jayce shakes his head, disturbed someone had shown you pictures.

"That was something I tried to hide purposefully-" he begins to explain, embarrassed as he pinches the bridge of his nose as you bat your eyelashes up at him. "Why?" you cut him off, curious as you sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows.

"I just didn't want you to see me at such a low point, such a mess," he explains before joining you on the bed, placing his head in your lap to cover his face. Someone's the shy one today, you think to yourself.

"You don't always have to look your best or be strong for me, Jayce. I promise thats only a fraction of you that I fell for," you reassure him, relieved to be getting all the doubts and worries out now.

"But I just want to be the best man for you," Jayce picks up, body hovering over your own.

"You are, Jayce. The man I love is selfless, intelligent and above all, kind. He kisses me after a long day of work, dances with me even when I step on his designer shoes, laughs at my terrible jokes, and is always there to bring me up no matter how many times I don't think I am worthy of all this love and attention that he too seems to forget he is just as worthy of feeling regardless of being the "man" everyone else tells him to be. You are everything I need or could ever want you to be, Jayce." you are nearly breathless by the end of your speech and the way in which he kisses you passionately, unable to contain his affections.

"Could I marry you now?" Jayce, equally breathless asks in a tone light yet holding an edge of sincerity to it.

"You're mother would be severely disappointed... I would also be taking her Mrs. Talis title," you counter yet knowing within yourself you would go down to the courthouse now without a care for any large ceremony.

"I guess you're right... but then again, she'll more than understand. Know that when we get to Piltover theres nothing stopping me from becoming your husband," Jayce states as you look up at him, fingers brushing his lip, picking up the edges to make his smile grow, hands falling once seeing it spread on its own. "Mr. and Mrs. Talis," you hum to yourself, testing the titles you had already been called countless times on accident, "Mrs. Talis," Jayce echos, a part of you in shock that one day it would be official.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your inside date would tick off every box Jayce had mentioned earlier. A record played in the background as he twirled you dizzy before crashing you against his chest and tilting your head up into a dizzying kiss that held your knees weak. His mouth distracts your trail of thoughts as you feel how his hand drags up your leg, up and under the slit of your dress and towards your undergarments before the phone rings.

Jayce holds you against him, breaths ragged as he reaches over to pick up the phone, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "Hello?" you bite your lip at his baritone, not quite listening to what he says but how he says it. "Dinners here," he explains as the line dies, you nod your head, dragging yourself out from underneath his hold and ensuring that you look... somewhat presentable as people set the table and leave quickly that has you looking over yourself worriedly before noticing the mark you left above Jayce's collar bone on display... and the over a dozen lipstick kisses across his skin and dress-shirt... oh.

"Gods, it looks like a ripped you apart," you say, reaching from your glass, chiming it against Jayce's who smiles underneath the lip of the glass, "a good thing, no?" He tries to boost your ego. You roll your eyes, "everyones gonna think I'm just using you," you grumble, taking a bite off your plate.

"You're welcome to," Jayce indulges you with a wink, tongue swirling around one of his canines as stare at him for awhile, "Sometimes I question how long I withstood your advances."

"I question that too," Jayce admits, "when I first started I was willing to do just about anything for you to see me" You gasp, "so you knew exactly what you were doing!" You think back to the various times you thought to have caught him in a state of undress, imagining him purposefully placing things too high for you to reach, or calling you anything but your name in front of your peers.

"Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · Waking up in the morning you both took a slow morning getting ready before heading back to your apartment and starting to pack everything away with the help of Ximena and Evren.

Suspiciously all the heavy boxes you packed and tried to hide to carry later were all taken and gone. Your furniture was going to stay for the next household as You and Evren worked around it, folding your clothes into bags and boxes alongside wrapping the glassware in the kitchen with Ximena.

Jayce was in a pair of kakis and black t-shirt, sweat dripping down his forehead as took a box out of your hands and walked out the door not listening to your demands of helping to carry things as Ximena dragged your arm back to the living room to finish taping the boxes on the table.

Seeing Jayce out of the corner of your eye, you dropped your chest over the box protectively, "If you don't let me carry this box Jayce I'm leaving you at the aisle," you threaten, standing and walking to the door as Evren silently trails behind giving Jayce a look up and down watching as he wipes the sweat off his forehead.

"You two are going to be somethin' huh?" Evren yells before stepping outside after you, loud enough for both you and Jayce to react separately with laughs.

─────── · ·

─ · · Everything was loaded onto a train carriage headed a day ahead of you all to arrive when you got there. Jayce laid on your bed, chest down as you startled his hips, massaging his back. You laughed listening to him complain about your cold fingers before groaning as those same fingers loosened a knot in his lower back, "I told you to let me help you," you pressed down a bit harder as Jayce whined, biting his lip, the pain felt relieving to the stress he felt within his muscles.

You lessened your pressure, working your way upwards as your hands traced his shoulders before squeezing them. Jayce burrowed his face, groaning into the comforter you would be taking on the train as you laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his neck. "Feels good?" you tease watching as Jayce slowly shows his face again, mischief in his eyes that has you slightly worried for his next words, "stealing my line there are you sweetheart?"

You flush not knowing how to respond but thankfully you wouldn't have to, freezing at a scream, heads whipping over to see an embarrassed Evren who thought to be walking in on your both. "Evren! I'm just massaging Jayce's back, promise," you reassure your friend as he hesitantly opens his eyes before letting out a sigh of relief.

"Do you both ever fear being too attached together?" he asks seeing how Jayce reaches behind feeling for your hand as you lace your fingers together, you both think for a moment, "We can last at least a week with no contact," you nod, "Yeah, maybe two depending on how earlier weeks were."

You and Jayce proceed to go back and worth determining that the longest timing with different prior variables. Evren was not planning to witness you both debate like old times in the lab as you get back to rubbing his shoulders and neck; Hypotheticals and theories, what if I sent a gift part-way? Would letters count as contact? What If I visited part way and then left... could we go longer then?

"I think the answers conclusive, 3 weeks with at least two visits and gifts," you tap Jayce's back, sliding off as Evren does not know weather to feel disgusted by how sweet you both are with one another, disturbed by how telepathically you read one another, or enamoured by the affection you both share. "I cannot believe you even decided on getting with that officer," Evren jokes as you roll your eyes, "don't remind me about him, that was a poor choice on so many levels. But then again... If I hadn't done that Jayce and I may not have gotten together in the end."

"Still not thanking that fucker," Jayce curses, throwing his shirt back on before extending a hand, helping you off the bed, "oh no, I was going to try and invite them to the wedding," you joke... Jayce stares blankly at your head in response as Evren smiles at you both, "I love you two."

You rush over hugging Evren tightly knowing that this would be one of your final moments together, "Love you too Ev!"Jayce joins the hug as you both smush Evren between your bodies, "Now this was NOT the threesome I'd imagine," Evren says, patting both of your arms gently with a wheeze.

─────── · ·

─ · · You count every bag and item on your person before double checking Jayce's hotel room to ensure you both got everything. Evren and Ximena were both waiting for you on the tracks, watching as the luggage got loaded.

"I told myself not to cry," Evren says to himself with a pout, blinking profusely as if to delay the tears... yet it only seemed to make them come faster as he sniffled, dragging you into a hug as you both swayed side to side, "Why am I getting so emotional? We only hung out for what... a few months?"

"Ouch, Ev. I thought my friendship meant more to you," you joke, rubbing his back seeing as his glasses fog up, "It does I assure you. Just like how I'm dead set on delivering a speech at your wedding." You groan at the thought of it knowing that in your many nights out together after class... you told him almost every secret you had to share.

"You wouldn't do that to me!" you try and guilt trip him, feeling as he shakes his head, pulling away from the hug, a smile returning to his face that matches your amused one, "Consider it payback for leaving me here."

"I told you you're welcome to come back, I'm sure I could find a spot for you within the Academy?" you counter. "I'll get back to you on that once the loneliness settles in."

"Whatever you need, Ev. Whatever you need," you reassure him, pulling the professor in for one last hug before standing off to the side watching as Ximena gathers her own hug before joining you observing as Jayce and Evren hold a handshake, unsure of what they are whispering to one another.

─ · · "Take care of my friend, please," Evren asks quietly, "I know I joke about it a lot but divorce does hurt." Jayce nods firmly, eyes determined without a trace of fear or doubt, "I promise you I will and I don't mean my words lightly."

"Thank you."

─────── · ·

─ · · On the train back to Piltover you sit beside Ximena as you both share your combined excitement to see if parts of the upper city were how you remembered and what restaurants you both wanted to sit in as soon as you got back.

Jayce leaned back on a bench opposite of your both, watching with a smile wishing he brought a camera to capture this moment for all of eternity. You and his mom held hand, shaking with laughter as she recalled various stories from Jayce's childhood you had yet to hear.

"Oh and Jayce used to make pretend weddings in school wanting to stay in his uniform like a suit. And did I ever tell you about how he caught his hair on fire the first time in the forge? Or what about the hour before you arrived to our house for the first time?- Jayce was pacing around the kitchen nearly digging a hole into the floor with worry. 'What if she doesn't like the food, mom?' 'Oh god I never asked if she came from nobility?' 'Is it bad of me to be worried this much?'" Ximena looks lovingly towards her son who blushes a furious red, "mom you were just as worried as I was!" he counters with a huff.

You smile, "I was worried too that I was overdressed or what address you by the wrong title. I also didn't know what work material to bring without feeling intruding even when thats what you requested," you explain as Ximena grabs shakes your hand in her own. "You were so beautiful that day, I think I fell in love myself," you laugh lightly, "I can see where Jayce gets his charm from."

"Only learned from the best," Jayce adds.

─────── · ·

─ · · You and Ximena had yet to move from your spots when Jayce came back in his sleepwear. Laying down in the cot he looked between you and his mom, lingering on your form with consideration. Ximena caught his look, "If you didn't keep her from me earlier in the week, Jayce, you would have more time together now." You shake your head in humour, "I'll get ready in a few minutes, my love. Just discussing flowers for the wedding."

Jayce frowns but nods, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest trying to create a comforting weight. You continue your conversation yet can't help your eyes from constantly darting to look at Jayce with longing. Ximena shakes her head, "alright, I'll let you both sleep now. See you two in the morning," she stands, kissing your cheek gently before moving to her own room two doors down in the carriage.

You watch as Jayce opens his arms expectantly- not being able to contain your laugh before rushing over and collapsing against him. "G'night," you mumble, pressing the light-switch beside the bed feeling as Jayce shuffles the blankets over you both in the small cot.

Jayce's turns on his side allowing you more space as intertwine your legs, "Night, sweetheart."

─────── · ·

─ · · SERIES MASTERLIST

─ · · A/N: I think this series is officially the longest thing I've ever written... WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, JAYCE TALIS 🫠

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123 @peachhiz @hellokittyluvr69420

[wishingstarinajar]

Hello Wish! I'm a refugee from the world of the blue bird. (X marks the spot and all that, yuck) I was wondering if you have any advice to someone starting out tumblr? What and when should you reblog? Is it rude to only do that and not have original content in your profile? How does this all work?

Welcome to Tumblr!

Sure thing. Lemme drabble down a little list for you:

First, get yourself an avatar and a bio/description to set yourself apart from the dreadful bots. You don't have to go personal or deep with your bio/description, you only need to show you're human so people won't block and/or report you. (If you want to follow 18+ blogs, an indication of your age in your bio might be useful but not a must!)

Reblogging is preferred over Liking posts and is also highly encouraged here on Tumblr. There is no algorithm here so reblogs make the world go round. That said, if you only Like stuff and hardly reblog, then that's fine too so don't feel forced.

You reblog whatever you want to and how often you like. It's your blog, you cater to yourself and your interests. You aren't responsible for anyone else's eyes, morals, or whatever else. Be free!

You're allowed to reblog super old posts. It's not weird or intrusive, dig up those fossils and show them off!

You don't have to post any original posts if you don't want to. Being a reblog blog is just as valid of a use of Tumblr. Just avoid being seen as a bot and you can reblog to your heart's content.

If you reblog a post with tags (tags related to the contents of the post), you get bonus internet points. Tags also help with making posts easier to find on your blog (or filter for your followers).

You may leave compliments in a reblog's tags or tack a description with your thoughts, additional info, or compliments to the reblog. If you do this, you very often make the OP's (Original Poster) day!

Hateful tags and responses or unwanted criticism attached to a reblog are not tolerated so please don't.

Tumblr has a queuing system so you can pre-set when reblogs appear on your blog and your followers' dashboards, especially when you have tons of reblogs and wish to spread them across a few days or hours. You can queue posts by selecting "Schedule" after clicking the downward arrow next to "Post now" or "Reblog" at the bottom of a post/reblog.

If you decide to reblog mostly spicy/suggestive content, a warning in your bio or pinned post is appreciated (but not a must!).

Tumblr has a mute/filter option for both tags and post content. Go absolutely crazy with this if there are certain subjects or (trigger) words that could ruin your day. This goes for blocking as well. Be kind to yourself, block and mute/filter generously.

If you've blocked someone, their posts might still appear on your dashboard through someone else's reblogs. Put that blocked user's name in "Filtered Post Content" and you won't quickly see them again.

Hope this will help you get comfy on Tumblr. Enjoy your stay!

[rockybloo]

With it nearing the end of the year, I feel like it's a good time to just have some real talk about why I create art.

At some point during in high school, during those years where you are pressured to figure out what you want to do when you grow up and what you want to major in when you go to college, I had wanted to go to art school after high school. I decided against it ultimately because I just didn't see a true appeal for me. I started to realize that I enjoyed my art so much more when I didn't have the pressure on me to create something for a fancy final product. Yeah, I could go but then I'd have to change aspects of myself I didn't really want to change but had to because that's what the world says I gotta do if I want to be a good artist.

And that's the thing I sort of hate the most about being able to create anything. You have to be good. Otherwise you are wasting your time. You aren't allowed to just make stuff for fun and for a hobby - you have to constantly be striving for improvement at a pace others have set for you. You can't just have it as a hobby. If you make art then it's expected that you make good art.

You're not allowed to be satisfied with being mediocre.

I've been actively posting my art online since I opened a Deviantart account way back in middle school. I'm 26, on my way to becoming 27. And as someone who has spent a solid decade online, I feel more certain than ever that I am a hobby artist. Having a fulltime job DEFINIATELY has helped me come to that conclusion but even before, I knew I liked to draw for fun. I don't like to stress about what I am sharing to cyberspace, I like just having this digital archive of stuff I've made and stories I've written.

I call myself a self indulgent artist because I'm incredibly selfish draw things I want and write stories I'd enjoy.

That's not to say I don't care that people enjoy my work and feel represented at times. I love it when people share how happy they feel when they see my OCs and read my stories. I'm happy I can fulfill some niches for people. Honestly, it'll always be crazy to me when I make something so damn specific that I wanna see and share it just for some other people to get excited. There are benefits to having a public digital archive your art and reactions people may have are one of them.

But ultimately I don't create to make others happy. If I did focus my art on just doing that, I promise you that my online presence and art would look DRASTICALLY different.

I share my stuff online because it's a whole lot easier to archive all my art as well as being able to share my stuff with the world and occasionally make some friends. Posting my art shows I was alive so MAYBE JUST MAYBE I will not be watered down when recalled in memories and people will always know I was insane about my OCs.

I'm pretty satisfied with be a mid artist. My finished work makes me happy, and what I care about is managing to create something of the fellas that reside in my head because seeing my OCs makes me happy...AND I'M THE ONLY SOURCE OF CONTENT FOR THEM SO I GOTTA COOK MY OWN FOOD AND EAT IT TOO--

ANYWAYS I am in no rush to level myself up. I'm 27 and human lifespans are pretty long. Even though it's slow and subtle, I have def been making improvements in my work...but mainly because there are aspects about my OCs that I occasionally realize I am struggling with and pull a "Do it for her" as I work on what I am having a hard time with. SURE they might not be improvements others would like to see but they are improvements that make me happy. And I am excited to see how my art develops over my existence on this planet.

.

.

.

...I am also excited to see if my black ass can finish any of my webcomics before I die. I KNOW I CAN DEF FINISH ONE OF 'EM I JUST DUNNO WHICH ONE IT'S GONNA BE! IT'S A RACE TO SEE WHO MAKES IT TO THE FINISH LINE BEFORE I KEEL OVER

[twig-tea]

GL odds and ends 29 December 2024

The end of the year kicked my ass, but I wanted to get one last one of these out for 2024! The last one before this was 10 November. If you're interested in GL older than that, check out my GL rec list through Feb 2024 and my #gl recs tag for the other odds and ends posts. New series marked with an asterisk*.

Currently airing (with thoughts up to 29 Dec):

The Fragrance You inherit 5/8 (Japanese, Friday/Saturday-ish, no official distribution but fansub on @isaksbestpillow's blog [thank you Siiri!] I have been really enjoying this show and have been writing when I have time (last post was for ep4). At its core this is a gentle show about kind people who love each other doing their best, which is always my favourite thing. Subs are on pause for the moment so you have time to catch up before the finale!

Pluto ep 11/12 (Thai, Saturdays 9:30 AM ET, YouTube) This plot continues to be absolutely wild. There's a lot of discourse around Oom this week, to which I'll just say: Setting a test to see if the people you love will hurt themselves in order to make you feel better is not loving or healthy behaviour, even if your motivations are understandable and sympathetic. Namtan is doing a great job making these twins feel like different people, and she and Film are still gorgeous together. And I have no idea what's up with the messy lesbian sides, but I'm on the side of all of them need a time out! I've been pretty dialed out of this show because it's not my thing, so I'm not that invested in any of the relationships going into the finale, but it's been a wild ride and it seems to be holding together for those who enjoy the high drama of this plot.

*Petrichor ep 5/10 (Thai, Saturdays, 10:00 AM ET, iQIYI) The procedural aspects of this show are unfortunately not well executed, but Engfa and Charlotte have fantastic chemistry. I'm also really loving seeing Na and Max again even though I am very worried about getting too attached to their characters. It's always hard for me when a show is about a police officer trying to do good work in a corrupt system because the only takeaway I can accept is that that is not possible lol but I'm enjoying seeing these two on my screen every week (except this week, because we sadly did not get a new episode today).

*Mate, 6/12 (Thai, Tuesdays, WeTV (uncut version)) This one is hard to describe. It seems to be trying to do for trauma in a GL what Love in the Air and Bed Friend did in BL--show a realistic depiction of trauma in one of their characters and have them fall in love, and be taken care of and healed that way. But that also makes it extremely hard to watch. The trauma flashbacks and trauma responses is rough. The main character is not very likeable but that's kinda the point, I'm not minding that part of it so much. There are a lot of things I like about this show, so I don't want to discourage views. Just go into this one informed, and make the decision that's right for you.

*INTP 1/? (Korean, Fridays (?), YouTube) This is the latest short series from RedQ, who produced some of my favourite GL short series including More than or equal to 75 degrees C, and To the Ex who Hated Me. No info on how long it will be or if it will be weekly, so that Fridays release schedule is a total guess. The setup of this one reminded me of Semantic Error if SangWoo realized he was attracted to JaeYoung at their first group assignment meeting.

Recently Completed:

Apple My Love 6.5 50-min eps (Thai, Oct 12-Nov 16, GagaOOLala and YouTube) I ended up feeling like this one bit off a bit more than it could chew, as much fun as I had with it, it was a wobbly landing. I was ok with the ending at the end but I spent a lot of time watching the finale uncertain about how I felt about all of it. There's a 30 min "episode 5.1" that is an important bridge between episodes 5 and 6 (and also includes a 10-min fingering scene, thank you show) that I think resulted from either poor pacing or realizing they needed to set up the episode better? It was odd but something to make sure not to skip. The show does a lot of what I love about Kongthup's latest BLs: it avoids the worst drama pitfalls and calls them out in the show itself when it uses them, and it is largely about being kind to its characters who are figuring themselves out. Warning for extremely hard to watch secondhand embarrassment in the first couple of episodes lol Kris is such a cringefail lesbian I love her. With the caveats above, if you don't mind secondhand embarrassment and want a comedy GL and are willing to be a little patient with the ending, give this one a try!

The Loyal Pin 16 65-min eps (Thai, Aug 4-Dec 1, YouTube) Anin was the bravest right through to the end. I really liked a lot of this show, but I found the pacing a bit uneven and the finale a little rough. It's hard, because I actually am happy with the way the show ended--it makes perfect sense and was where I was hoping they would get to the entire show. What I didn't like was how we got there. It seemed wild that Pin and Anin didn't at least talk about this possibility before we got there; and didn't feel like we ever resolved the disparity between the two leads, though the show was aware of it the whole time which I did like. And you may have seen the shouting about the prank in the finale, it was in really poor taste. In the end, this show was beautiful, gave a platform for promoting Thai culture (food, clothing, history), and had excellent intimacy. I really enjoyed the slow burn between Anin and Pin, and I loved that every character had and used the agency they had, but that the show was realistic about what was in and outside of their control. If you want a slow-burn and high-heat romance and are willing to be a little frustrated for the sake of the drama, and/or you really like a pigtail-pulling romantic dynamic, you should watch this show.

Red Whisper 8 10-min eps (Korea, Oct 2-Nov 11, YouTube) Honestly this show never got better after what I wrote about it a month ago about how its portrayal of bisexuality and nonmonogamy was upsetting. For the record one last time: Not all bisexuals are nonmonogamous, and entering a monogamous relationship under false pretenses and then acting like your partner is being unreasonable by not wanting an open relationship is shitty behaviour. This one is sadly not recommended.

The Nipple Talk 10 30-min eps (Taiwanese, Nov 8-22, GagaOOLala) I highly recommended the first half, and so I am so sad to say that I can't say the same for the second half of the show. I was really enjoying how much the show seemed to support a mix of monogamy and nonmonogamy, but the second half of the show leaned heavily into 'everyone wants a monogamous relationship when they meet the right person', which disappointed me. The show also tried to introduce some themes that felt very dated in terms of how they handled them (e.g. HIV) and I ended up just not really liking the Pony character as a person by the end. The lesbian relationship was super messy in a way that I did not find fun too. Mama was the best part of this show, and I hope we get more characters like them in future (better) shows!

*Soul Sisters 24 12-min eps (Chinese, iQIYI) This entire show dropped this week so I binged it in one go. The basic setup is a GL version of Meet You At the Blossom, except the gender fuckery lasts for most of the series and they don't actually ever get to kiss. I loved this little show; it is a frenetic, very silly and censored comedy, so calibrate your expectations accordingly. But it walks the line in a way that is palatable (or was for me, anyway). Without giving too much away, it is an open happy ending. The caveats for this one are that there is no wasted tape, so the pacing is rollercoaster fast, and the cuts are sometimes jarring. But it's a surprisingly beautiful show for the budget, and I really appreciated all of the ways they came up with to give these women shippy moments. Also, good lord this main character is so competent, which is a major weakness of mine. I had a great time!

*Whisper Me a Love Song 12 25-min eps (Japanese anime, Apr-27 Dec, HiDive) This started airing in April but there was a delay and the last episode didn't air until yesterday. High school lesbians in a band having embarrassing confused and misunderstood feelings all over the place (with good endings including a kiss for at least one of our couples). I appreciate that this anime is not playing with the 'are they friends who joke about wanting to touch each other's boobs or are they more' line, they outright say they want to be more than friends and then kiss. The music is good too! Recommended if you are feeling like a high school dramedy with good tunes that stays pretty light and is in the 'bubble'.

Recent One-offs, Side Couples, etc.:

My Hot Butch Roommate (actually a 2-parter) aired on bilibili 1, 2) and was subtitled by @douqi7s on YouTube (1, 2) These two are very cute, and this little short does a ton with the very tiny 5 minutes of total runtime it uses. Give the original bilibili uploads a stream so they get views, even if you watch the YT subbed version!

Fufuknows put out a new lesbian short titled The Choices of Two Lesbian Couples in Love on YouTube This was a great short (11 min) film featuring the story of two couples at different stages in their relationship, and the different choices they make about their futures. I really enjoy Fufuknows as queer short filmmakers, and I appreciate that they regularly include lesbian and wlw content in their bi-weekly (as in, every other week) fictional shorts that they produce and release. This one is recommended!

Aim's Lesbian plotline in the new Love Sick 2024 remake concluded (this was not a plotline in the 2014 version and it's one of the changes I really like and that I think works really well) Spoiler: she doesn't get a romance happy ending but her story ends with acceptance from her friends about who she is, which was lovely to watch

There was a brief of-the-week lesbian couple who wanted to marry in Spare Me Your Mercy Spoiler: their story is tragic, which is par for the course in a murder mystery

I am suspecting wlw sides in See Your Love I may end up eating these words but I was getting vibes, and so I'm putting this out in the universe now in hopes I'm right lol

There is a new Korean shorts production company on YouTube called Lovememory (Their first BL ep is out and the GL, First Love, has a trailer)

Mom Ped Sawan started airing but I don't have a source so I can't give any info or links unfortunately. If anyone knows of a subtitled source for this show, please let me know!

My Ex's Wedding came out in Thai theatres waiting for an international source for this too

Korean short film What's In my Bag was uploaded to Matchbox I haven't seen it yet but the trailer is on YouTube if anyone is curious! The film is available now for a small fee on Vimeo (runtime 12 mins).

Sastra film app YouTube channel has several short Cambodian GL series that come out weekly Honestly they are not to my taste but I don't like gatekeeping GL especially from smaller markets. I check in on these time to time and if there are any that I think are great I'll give them a shout-out

Ditto above with JPC media YouTube channel for Thai GL shorts if there are any that stand out to me I'll say so; that being said I haven't had time recently so if I've missed anything good let me know!

Starting soon:

Us the series, Thai, 18 January 2025, most likely YouTube (as this is a GMMTV show) Caveat that this date is a rumour, see comments

Fragrance of the First Flower s2, Taiwanese, 18 February 2025, GagaOOLala ok this isn't that soon but I'm just so excited we're getting this second season after all!

It is so, so nice that we have this much GL to keep track of, I can't complain! This covers a whole month of content and it was a month I was very distracted from my QL consumption so while I always welcome anyone pointing out stuff I missed, I would particularly appreciate it this round.

[syndrossi]

In the AU where Rhaella and Dany get Summerhalled instead of Jon and Rhaegar, I'm curious about how their relationship with Daemon would be different then that of Daemon and the boys. So much of what he's doing to try and bone with them is inspired by his own childhood and/or stories about Aemon and Baelon, that I think he'd be a little bit lost if he had daughters instead of sons. Most likely he would ask Rhaenyra or Rhaenys for help, and while Rhaenys would probably be too busy and/or a bit cold towards him, I think Rhaenyra would jump at the chance to spend time with them. She's always wanted a daughter, and now Daemon has two! And they need a mother! (It would also give Daemon and Rhaenyra an excuse to spend more time together, which I think they'd both enjoy a little too much.) OTOH this could definitely be used as a way for Otto to try and get information on Daemon by having Alicent get close to the girls. I could honestly see it becoming another point of contention between her and Rhaenyra. Poor Rhaella and Dany are gonna have the two most powerful women in the court fighting over them! For their own personal preferences, Dany would definitely adore Rhaenyra, since she'd be able to relate to her struggles as a women whose inheritance is constantly being threatened, but it's possible that Rhaella might end up favoring Alicent, since their situations are somewhat similar. I could see her growing somewhat disenchanted with Alicent once she sees her interact with Rhaenyra and the Velaryon boys, especially if she realizes that Alicent is spreading rumors about their bastardy. (Aerys attempted to spread the rumor that Rhaella was cheating on him, and that some of their dead babies actually bastards, so seeing Alicent do something similar make her upset)

Also if you make this an official AU, maybe it could be called Reverie? If doesn't technically connect, but I think it works since Dany it's a canonical dragondreamer and, although her personality isn't really talked about, Rhaella always seemed like the quiet/daydreamy type to me. (Or she would have been if it weren't for Aerys.) Also it's a pretty word and I think Dany and Rhaella would both appreciate it :)

Yeah, I agree that Daemon would be far more out of his depth dealing with twin daughters on his own. In canon, he had Laena to help with Baela and Rhaena, and married Rhaenyra not long after. Society is such that Daemon just...won't make that Aemon+Baelon connection.

So I think you're right that he'd either seek help quickly or be much more open to marrying Laena so that he has someone to turn to on "feminine" matters. (Laena would be an awesome mom to twin girls, and it's a crime that she didn't get to see her own twins grow up. 100% enabler of all mischiefs and adventures.)

I still maintain that the Dany-Rhaenys similarities are strong, so Aunt Rhaenys would very much love her step-granddaughter, and definitely Dany would have a lot of empathy for Rhaenyra's struggles.

I don't know how much of a parallel Rhaella would see in Alicent, who by all accounts sought the marriage to Viserys, presumably out of ambition, vs Rhaella being forced into it for prophecy's sake. I could see her having an interesting relationship with Viserys, who would remind her a lot of her original father Jaehaerys (this comes up in the Rhaella AU bits I've written). On the one hand, she loved her father, but she definitely hated that he forced her into marrying Aerys.

I could almost see Rhaella really forming a close bond with Daemon, appreciating a father who fights for her wants/needs, whereas Dany has to grapple with her childhood desire for, well, a childhood with her family vs Daemon's overprotectiveness / tendency toward being almost stifling. Like Jon, she was highly independent before--a queen, in fact! I don't think it's easy to go back to being dependent and viewed as a future queen consort (at most). I think she'll have ambitions of her own.

Definitely we'll see some of the same dynamics with the Greens here as in Reversal, though, where marriage to neutralize Daemon + the twins' dragons is highly desirable to Otto, who will be scheming to win the girls over for matches to his grandsons. (And Runestone is still in play.)

Reverie is a nice name! I do try not to name any AUs I don't intend to write, and I'm not planning to pick this one up anytime soon, but if I ever do, I'd probably go with that. (There are...a lot in play right now. 😅)

[arcane-vagabond]

Hey again...

So I've kind of already mentioned it, but figured it was time to make an actual post.

A lot of you already know that I've been a participant in fandom for over a decade now, starting out in the original Hunger Games fandom and then quickly working my way to SuperWhoLock and a couple of others over the years. I took a step back from fandom because of different things going on in my life, and it wasn't really until Summer 2023 that I decided to get involved again. This time around, though, I had stories that I wanted to share and used writing fanfic as a way to navigate and cope with how crazy my day to day had become. Writing became my way to escape the uncertainty that had come with losing my job and keeping me sane while I hunted for a new one.

I could never have imagined how a silly, little U.S. military propaganda movie would change my life in such interesting ways.

I've been writing since I was old enough to tell stories, ideas floating in and out of my head faster than the speed of light, and even though my friends told me all the time how much they loved the ideas and my actual writing, I had convinced myself that I'm not a good writer. I held onto that belief for years until a story concerning a blond aviator as a an outlaw in the old west consumed me to the point where I thought I would go crazy if I didn't start to write it. So I did, and then I got the crazy idea to start posting it - just wanting to see if other people would like it too. To my absolute shock and awe, they did! A lot of people actually did! So I kept writing, and I quickly added new stories too which people seemed to enjoy. I made so many new friends, and people really did seem to enjoy my writing which made me so, so happy.

Stories have always been so special to me, and coming up with new ones and sharing them with others has always been a passion of mine. I love talking about them with other people, talking over theories and characters til I'm blue in the face. What's going to happen? Why? How will this affect the other characters? All things I love discussing, but...fandom doesn't like to do that anymore. All it is anymore is an endless sea of likes, which are...okay, but why are people refusing to talk to me? Are they bored? Are they shy? Was that last chapter too lackluster? Should I have added more action? Romance? Surely not because people are demanding more? More scenarios, more smut, more words, more, more more. Maybe I should step away for a day or two, just to give myself a break? Okay, yeah, that should be fine. Okay, what about a week? I have some stuff going on at this new job that I need to deal with. Okay, now people aren't even sending requests in. Now even fewer people are commenting or sending messages in. Why? Did I do something? Was I away too long? Surely people know that I'm a person behind this screen. Oh, now most of my friends are leaving the site...Now I haven't talked to anyone in weeks.

So...what's the point? Seems like people aren't even reading what I'm putting out these days, so why continue writing for a silent audience?

This is all to say these are some of the thoughts that have been going through my head lately, and I've decided that it's not healthy. Demanding attention from people unwilling to give it is not serving me anymore, and neither are the jealous and hateful people who hide behind the anonymous feature. People who have screamed at me since I started because they've been jealous of the attention I've gotten in the past, trying to get me to quit the entire time. Well, you win. You get your wish, congratulations. I hope you feel happy with the number of people who read your fics because surely they'll come read yours now that I'm not posting anything. Hating on me and my work was never going to make you a better writer or person.

As for me, I'll probably still make posts from time to time if I don't go back to my old blog again. I've decided to dedicate time to writing my actual novel that's been in the works for 12+ years now, and I have a renewed excitement for it now that I know my writing is worth reading. Thanks, strangers on the internet! And who knows, maybe TG3 will prompt me to write fanfic again one day.

For now, my stories will stay posted, but that may change as I decide more on what I'm doing, so please don't be surprised if one day they're actually gone. I've already cleared out my inbox, so...sorry if I didn't manage to get to your request.

I'd like to thank @sorchathered @pinguhub and @attapullman for the late night calls and vent sessions. @goldenseresinretriever and @fanficfandomlove for being constant rocks and sources of inspiration for my fics. And @roosterforme for being a solid head to rely upon and gab with. You guys rock, and I hope you'll stick with me for the journey that lies ahead.

Until next time.

Liz~

[afrowrites]

Princess and the Farm-Boy (Special Chapter 😏

DISCLAMER: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP

Author's note: Y'all it was been one hell of a year. I mean I have never been so overworked and with other stuff in my life it has been impossible to write anything, but I had this one in the works for awhile and I thought you guys deserved a treat. So here is my first *Ahem* "Spicy fic". I really hope y'all enjoy it :).

Clark Kent !Smallville! x Black reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (f! receiving), Unprotected P in V sex (Please be careful irl)

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61783975

There you are stuck in the rain, the mud creeping up your loafers and on your nice white stockings. Once again your plans to escape Smallville have proven futile. Your eyes start to tear up in frustration, which makes no sense. After all you're not a child, so why should you start crying like one. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a familiar and annoying truck pulling up.

 “Hey, are you ok?” Clark asks, he sounds genuine. 

“Yeah, I'm uh just fine.” You answer, he looks at you quizzically. He knows how much you hate mud and all things dirty.

“Doesn't look like it.” “Well what would you know anyway?!” You spat, your pride may be bruised but it's not broken.

He grumbles in frustration, he knows you're not going anywhere without a fight. So he goes for the next best thing, you see him get out the truck his tall frame makes his way to you and then he grins a little devilish grin.

“C'mon I know you don't wanna be here out in this rain, your hair’s too important.” 

“I don't see how that's any of you- Oh my God what are you doing!!!” You squeal as you are suddenly hoisted in the air and on his shoulder.

“Well princess, I'm taking you home.” He smiles.

You don't know how to feel about his nickname for you. 

Usually you hate it but right now it makes your cheeks heat up in a way you have never felt before.

He drives you both in silence, he realizes that he kinda kidnapped you, and you are feeling an acute sense of butterflies. Something you could never feel for Clark Kent. 

You shake the thought right out of your head, he looks over to you sort of reading your mind,

“Hey so uh- what is the deal you, I mean ever since we met you act like you hate me.”

You turn your head towards him, looking at his defined jaw, it's making you melt right in your chair.

“I don't hate you Clark,” you sigh “I just needed something to be upset at. It just felt weird to be taken from my penthouse in metropolis and come to Smallville, y’know.”

He does understand where you're coming from. 

“Look, I might not be super rich and super smart like you, But I know what it feels like to be taken from my home.” He comforts you, hesitantly placing a warm hand on yours. 

Before your able to pry further, you make it home. “I guess this is your stop,” He chuckles.

“You know the staff aren’t home, It’s pouring out there,” You sheepishly continue “I-I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” You can’t even believe the words that are coming out of your mouth, yet they feel so natural. 

He does his usual goofy shrug and mumbles an “Okay”. 

You say your name into the intercom and your let in to your expansive house, It’s a far difference from his warm and inviting home. You both walk across polished wooden floors with high ceilings, old paintings and weapons from a time before. He felt it was all a bit macabre. 

You take his hand leading him to your room. It’s hilarious when you get to your room. It's pink and filled to the brim with hello kitty and poster’s of Beyonce on your wall, it’s much more girly than the cold academic you are.

“Don’t gawk, I’m still a girl y’know.” You tell him, your words bringing him out of his trance. You take your sweater off infront of him as you're preparing to take a nice warm shower. He peaks over and sees you in your rain soaked white button down. He begins to blush as he sees your bra pink and full of ruffles just like your room. He almost gets an anime nosebleed from seeing you. 

“Here I’m gonna take a shower,” You throw him the remote. “Pick anything you want, I pretty much have all the good movies.” You wink uncharacteristically and slink into the bathroom. 

He turns on the tv and flips through the channels until he finds something. He hears a knock on the door, and while no one is on the other side he finds a fresh T-shirt and some comfy pants in his size in a warmed box. 

“Hey um, I thought you said no one was here.” He asked you through the wall.

“Oh there isn’t, I had my robot send it over.” He rolls his eyes. Of course you have a robot, He thinks to himself. 

He slips into the warm clothes, He doesn’t know however that you're peeping through the crack in your bathroom door, You notice his strong arms and wide back, He has such a soft chest. He’s jacked but not ripped and you don’t mind it one bit. 

You walk out into your bed room still in your robe, He’s sitting in your bed comfortably hand on his stomach. You look out the window seeing the worsening storm. 

“Hey do you wanna just stay the night?” You ask him. And while he could go through the storm no problem he needs to keep up the facade of being powerless so he just nods. You hand him your phone and tell him to call his parents. 

You sit at your vanity and start to moisturize your brown skin. He looks over to your glowing beautiful skin. He's so hungry it’s almost like he’s eating you with his eyes,he almost trips over his words when telling his parents he wouldn’t be home for dinner. 

There you are in your silk pajamas and a cute boy in your room, You have no idea what in the world to do. So you just get under the covers next to him. You hesitantly put your hand on his chest, and before you can pull away he takes your hand in his. The warmth he gives you makes you melt. 

“You know farmville, Sometimes I think I like you.” The confession falls out of your mouth like your Niagra falls. You sit up wide eyed staring into his sky blue eyes.

He just gives you a toothy grin like no other and plants a soft kiss to your lips, after a second he pulls away. “ I was wondering when you were gonna come to your senses.” 

You roll your eyes and kiss him, this time it gets deeper. You rake your hands through his messy brown hair as he places you on top of him. You straddle his lap and his strong arms cradle your back. He melts into your mouth like vanilla ice cream on a hot summer’s day, And he smells like fresh cut wood and apple pie. He tastes like a dream you’ve been desperately reaching out for but you could never hold. 

He pulls away to catch his breath, with blown out pupils like he’s in love, (Well he is now lol). 

“Gosh, you’re just perfect.” He breathes into your neck slowly kissing down your collarbone to your plump and supple chest. 

You take a deep breath everytime he kisses your radiant brown skin. “Clark,” You break him out of his trance. “Yes, Princess?” The nickname sounds fresh and new but familiar and quiet all at the same time. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” You ask him timidly. “Girl, I don’t think your brother himself could keep me away from you.” He chuckles into you as he slips off the strap of your top. Exposing your  glowing bare breasts.

His mouth salivates at the sight of them, And in one swift motion he pulls you further into him.

He places his warm mouth on one of your soft peaks while caressing the other.

“Oh Clark,” You say his name with a sharp gasp “That feels s-so good.” You enjoy his movements as he kisses lower and lower till he reaches your soft entrance. 

His eyes roam the sight, his pupils blown and his breath hazy. Your scent light and sweet envelops his nose. 

He starts licking your clit with long swipes of his tongue, you sharply moan. Tangling your fingers in his soft brown hair. 

He’s eating you out like he is a man on death row, and you're his final meal. And then when you didn’t think it could get any better he places his thick fingers in your sloppy wet pussy.

“Oh-Oh my god Clark,” you moan out. You're loving every single bit of attention he gives you. And he’s doing so much it’s like he can hold his breath forever he hasn’t even come up for air. 

You're so focused on the pleasure he gives you, you don’t even realize how your belly feels warmer. How your toes start to curl, how your body starts to writhe and squirm. But he knows, he knows that even between the broken sentences and near pornographic moans your body is close to climax.

“C’mon princess, think you can give me me a-” and before the man can continue there you are creaming this poor farmboy’s fingers. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure. 

“GOD, FUCK.”  Your words spurn him on as he didn’t realize himself that he was grinding into your bed. His dick so hard and with precum leaking at the tip. He’s afraid to hurt you with his size. He won’t even bring up the subject of his sore cock to you opting to handle his business in the bathroom. 

“Oh my god Clark that was amazing.”, “Oh well I thought-”  you interrupt his words with a deep and passionate kiss as your hands glide down to his member. You can almost feel the heat coming off of it. 

“ I think I know how to help you with that.” You giggle. You can see his cheeks heating up as he blushed furiously. 

You pull his pants down to reveal a huge throbbing cock. “How the hell am I supposed to fit this in my-” 

He hears you mumble under your breath, “Y’know you don’t have to do this.” “Clark, Baby if I didn’t want to do this you would know. Now open my side drawer, there’s a bottle of lube in there.”

So he grabs the lubricant for you, for some reason he is surprised at your usage of the bottle mostly because it’s halfway gone. 

“Oh relax, it's for my dildo’s, ya goof.” You giggle at him once more. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of that noise. 

You apply the cold lube to his red throbbing cock, which sends shivers down his spine. His chest heaves in pleasure as you stroke his thick member. 

“Baby do you want me to ride it, or do you wanna be on top?” The two options scream out to him, “Can you ride me p-please?” he asks, almost nervous like he didn’t just eat your pussy like it was a birthday cake. 

You straddle his lap, grinding on him teasing his very soul. You finally give him some relief  when you place his tip at your entrance. He’s so big you have to catch your breath every inch on the way down.

“I’m sorry princess, I know it’s a lot,” “Oh no it’sss.” You hiss in the middle of your sentence. “I can take it.” 

You finally bottom out and it feels like the air has been removed from your lungs. You reassure him that you're fine but he insists you take a breather before you start. 

You slowly pump yourself up and down on his length relishing in the feeling, His hands gripping the sheets trying so hard not to hurt you. The pleasure is almost to good as his beautiful pink lips part in an attempt to breath out a silent prayer of release.

“Princess, I’m so sorry I can’t-” He grabs on to your hips, speeding up the pace on both of your pleasures. 

“W-wait Clark, Oh ff-uck!” You whine as you take your arms and wrap them around his back, glistening with sweat. 

It seems like his strokes would never stop but as his pleasure builds with yours. 

“I’m gonna, s-hit.” He hisses as spurts of his cum flow inside of you as you follow releasing on to him.

You both look at each other with boundless stars in each other's eyes. “That. was… Amazing, I never would have thought goody two shoes Clark Kent could do all of that.” You breathily laugh. 

“Right back atcha, now I think I need a shower. Care to uh join me?” he asks shyly. 

You smirk because the fun has only just begun.

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy

[inneedofsupervision]

An Angels Helping Hands

Happy (late) Holidays @thebest-medicine! I'm your @squealing-santa this year. I hope you enjoy the little fanfic I wrote for you. I wish you all the best for the last remaining days of 2024 and an amazing time for 2025.

(I wasn't sure if you wanted Destiel so I left their relationship kinda ambiguous soo Destiel if you squint?)

Summary: A hunt goes wrong, leaving Castiel with a moody and injured Dean who refuses to get treatment for his injuries. Despite Dean telling him off, Castiel cannot leave his best friend in pain. Dean would have to overcome his bruised ego and accept the angelic help because this Angel of the Lord refuses to ignore the pain and injuries of his favorite human.

Word Count: 4383

“Ugh. When is Sam coming back?"

A hand fumbles uncoordinated across the coffee table inside the semi-lit hotel room. The owner of the almost pitiful crawling limb is shielding himself from the rest of the world, a blanket thrown over him.

“Shitty poltergeist and even shittier winter wonderland.”

Fingertips meet cold plastic, but instead of grabbing the remote and turning down the volume on the TV, they accidentally shove it off the table. The sound of the impact causes the figure under the blanket to jump, his face twisted into a grimace at the noise.

Dean groans, narrowing his eyes as he pushes the blanket aside. He leans over the couch, one arm wrapped around his middle to bear the pain coming from his chest and ribs. Even that little movement had been enough to render the hunter breathless.

He hates hunting in theme parks for a reason, and today’s hunt was another reminder of why.

“Christmas is over anyway,” mutters the man as he sits with his eyes closed, trying to ignore the throbbing sensation inside his skull. He doesn’t want to think about today.

The hunt had been a disaster, and its highlight, the peak of everything going wrong, had been that gigantic candy cane falling over and burying Dean under it. He had been lucky to not get instantly killed, but the embarrassment from having Castiel and Sam finish the ghost on their own sat deep.

“What an unusual time to sleep.”

Dean flinches at the monotone voice next to his ear, grimacing in pain as the movement causes an invisible knife to puncture right between his upper ribs.

“A heads up would have been great, Cas. We talked about it,” grumbles the hunter, turning his head away from the angel.

"And I'm not sleeping."

“You’re in pain.”

Dean snorts.

"What you don't say."

He can feel the angel's disapproving stare into the back of his head.

“When you have undressed me enough with your eyes, then go fulfill some angelic duties or something. I'm not in the mood for holy company tonight."

“You’re in pain.”

Dean rolls his eyes, only to regret it a moment later. The movement doesn't do his headache any good.

"Can I get a refund? I think my angel is broken," he mumbles, his head sinking back into the cushion.

Castiel tilts his head, brows furrowed as he watches the human.

"Hey, what are you doing? Hands off."

Dean cracks an eye open. He tries batting the palm away, but Castiel stops him from interfering, pressing his hand down on his forehead.

"You have severe injuries, Dean. And a concussion."

"What? A concussion is not an injury?"

Castiel ignores the bite in Dean's voice.

“I told you to stop watching those movies, Cas,” teases Dean, trying to overplay the hint of panic as the angel in front of him seems suddenly more than determined to get him out of his clothes. “You watched too much doctor play. Those movies don't actually show you how the real world works.” Castiel stops after getting one of Dean's arms out of the sleeve. Dean takes the chance to warp his hand around Castiels arm, trying to get the angel to stop whatever he is planning to do “Don’t worry, Dean. Sam already explained that to me. I am not planning to touch you like the nurses in the video.” The hand around Castiels wrist loosens as Dean's brain needs a second to process that information. “Hold on. Time out. Sam talked to you about what? What in the world did you watch?" "I believe there are more pressing matters than nurses in unsanitary short uniforms, Dean." The hand grabbing the hem of his shirt stills, the fabric awkwardly shoved up until Dean's chest, showcasing a colorful pattern of bruises. Castiel’s eyes catch Dean’s, the disappointment clear as day. “These have to get treated.” The hunter’s expression turns sour, and an angry hand pushes Castiel away, causing the shirt to fall back down and cover the excessive bruises. “I can do that on my own.” “I would be quicker if I treated them.” “Castiel, seriously. Stop.” Castiel furrows his brows as his hand is shoved away. With a questioning expression, he follows the limping hunter towards his bed, where Dean puts the first aid kit before sitting down.

Pearls of sweat glister on the man's pale forehead. The hunter had never been so adamant about declining treatment for his injuries. “Dean, you are being unreasonable.” “Look at you using your big words,” mutters the man. He opens the kit and roams through its contents while ignoring Castiel's gaze. “Why are you not letting me treat your injuries? I could help you without you being in pain.” Before he can finish his sentence, the angel gets interrupted by Dean shutting the medical kit rather loudly. “Because I don’t want you to see them, damn it!” Dean’s hand twitches as he tries to keep himself from shoving the first aid kit off the bed and storming into the bathroom. He feels trapped inside the stifling motel room, Castiels piercing eyes making his skin crawl in discomfort.

This damn angel just didn't know when to quit, always yapping about him not taking care of himself. His eyes wander upwards, an annoyed groan working its way up his throat as he catches sight of the other's unimpressed expression.

Blue eyes were openly observing him, and if Dean weren't already so used to his friend's unapologetic staring, he would have felt unsettled. Right now, though, the angel's burning gaze fuels Dean’s irritation. "Why are you angry, Dean?" “Why am I angry? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I miscalculated the course of action, used a faulty piece of equipment, and, as a result, endangered my little brother and you? I nearly got us all killed, so excuse me for not being in the mood to show off the marks on my body, literally telling how hard I failed to do my job today." During his verbal lashing out, Dean turned away from Castiel, dropping his head and glaring down at the mint green rug lying before the bed. A hand on his shoulder gave it a short squeeze, but Dean didn’t look up, not wanting to see whatever expression the angel was making. “Dean, what are you?” “What now? We’re playing twenty questions?” “Just answer the question, Dean. What are you?” “What am I? A hunter.” “No, not what you do for a living, but what are you, Dean?” “Human?” “And what am I?” continues Castiel, the hand not leaving its place on his friend's shoulder. “An angel. Although, I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.” Not paying attention to the hunter's words, Castiel keeps staring at the man sitting on the bed. “I’m an angel, and even I wouldn’t have been able to predict the poltergeist’s next move. How would you, a human, be able to do something a servant of the lord was unable to do?” Dean opens his mouth only to close it with a shake of his head, the corner of his lip twitching upwards. God, how low has he fallen for a socially inept angel to give him words of encouragement? “I know what you’re trying to do, but please improve your pep talk, Cas.” “That means your mood has improved, hasn’t it?” Dean is about to tell Castiel off, not feeling like showing off the damage the ghost has managed to achieve when he gets shoved onto the bed. “Fuck, that hurts,” groans the man, another curse for his friend forming on his lips for getting manhandled like that while being injured. “It will get better soon,” comments Castiel, not sounding as apologetic as he should, before taking a fistful of Dean's shirt. “Wow, hold on. What do you think you’re doing?” The angel looks up from the two pieces of fabric in his hands that had once been a shirt. “I’ll ask Sam to get you a new one.” “Because Sam has such a good sense of fashion,” mutters Dean, headache worsening by the thought of his little bro getting him a new shirt. “Did you have to rip it apart? I liked that shirt. I could just have taken it off.” “My apologies. I haven’t thought of that. Now turn on your stomach.” Castiel glances down at the man. Dean is leaning back on his arms and looking up at him with an eyebrow raised at the demand.

The skin on Dean's chest and left side is broken in some places and overall swollen, the impact of today’s events visible through the colorful bruises left all over his body. “You’re going to use your holy touch or something?” “I will use my grace, yes. Your shoulder and upper back are affected too, I will start there.” Knowing he wouldn’t get the angel to stop once he set his mind on something, Dean gives in to the command and turns, giving the older man access to his back. He can hear the angel stepping closer, and Dean would lie if he said he wasn't feeling a slightly bit nervous. A hand is placed at the back of his head. Dean blinks in surprise. “Cas?” he asks warily. “I don’t feel anything.” “It should be like that.” Dean rolls his eyes at the short-bound answer, relaxing slightly as the headache lessens along with the aching and throbbing all over his body.

He feels the grace on his skin, a warm and barely noticeable tingly sensation spreading where Castiels hand hovers over his back. It was almost relaxing, and the man had to fight his eyelids from slipping shut. But just a moment later, he felt wide awake again. “Dean?” “Ah, sorry. Can you be a little careful there?” Dean glances over his shoulder at the angel, who tilts his head, staring at his hand questioningly. The hunter shouldn’t feel any pain, but Dean had clearly jumped under his touch. “I’m a bit sensitive there. Just avoid that part, alright?” He can sense the question, but before Castiel can ask, Dean has turned his head away, hoping the angel would do as said and avoid using his grace so close to his ribs for now. Castiel didn’t avoid the spot. Dean flinches. Hard. Muscles bulge as the man instinctively tightens the hold on the pillow. He presses his flushed face into the cold fabric, hot mortification rolling over him. “Does it hurt?” Castiel is puzzled. Something like this has never happened before. Was the hunter still in pain? It couldn’t be. His grace has never not worked before. “It doesn’t hurt. Stop worrying,” came the muffled reply, but it didn’t help cease the angel's confusion. “But you are uncomfortable when I’m doing this, Dean.” Showing what he meant, Castiel lets his hand hover just over the back of the human’s ribs, using his healing abilities on the bruised skin. Blue eyes observe another full body twitch, brows furrowing at the change of color at the base of Dean’s neck. “You are not feverish, but you appear to be rather flushed. Is something bothering you, Dean?” He steps back when a pillow gets flung at him, a red-faced Dean glaring at him. “You are doing this on purpose, aren’t you? You have spent too much time with Sam. That little bitch told you, am I right?”

Castiel is honestly confused. Has he done something wrong?

Both hunters had never declined before. The injuries had been severe, and most of the time the Winchester brothers had been close to collapsing or were already unconscious. Did he never notice his healing bringing discomfort because the receiver of his abilities had been too out of it to show a reaction before? Castiel is puzzled. What is he supposed to do now? Sam told him to look after his brother while he was getting them something to eat. Dean is hurting and needs medical treatment. “Told me what, Dean?” “Don’t play dumb,” sputters Dean, unaware of the inner turmoil his reaction has caused for his angel friend, grabbing the blanket from the bed. He's suddenly feeling vulnerable without a shirt. While shielding his upper body, he shoots Castiels hands a vary glance. “I believe I am missing something here, Dean,” says Castiel and steps closer, an eyebrow-raising when the hunter moves at the same time he does, crawling backward on the bed while holding onto the blanket. “Stay where you are,” demands Dean, hand up high and palm facing the angel as if that would help keep the holy being from moving, climbing down the bed on the other side, and hurrying towards his bag. “You might not feel pain for the moment, but your injuries still have to be cared for,” comments Castiel as he watches the human pulling a new shirt over his head. “I cannot stop here, Dean.” Dean nearly jumps to the ceiling at the feeling of someone standing behind him. The damn angel and his nonexistent concept of personal space.

He’s about to tell the other off when his wrist is gripped not harshly but firmly enough to not be able to wind out of the hold. He is led back toward the bed and pushed onto his back. Luckily, he didn’t feel any pain this time. “If it bothers you, leave your shirt on this time.” With these words, the angel moves onto the bed, straddling the surprised hunter.

Without further warning, he shoves his hands under Dean’s shirt.

Dean tries shoving the angel off, but Castiel doesn’t budge an inch.

“What the heck, Cas. Get your hands out of there!”

Before Castiel can use his grace, his wrists are grabbed and pulled out of the shirt.

Blue eyes sparkle with confusion.

“Why are you resisting? Tell me, Dean. I want to help you.”

“Nothing is hurting, it’s just uncomfortable. Let's stop here and let it heal on its own.”

“If it’s not hurting, why can I not use my grace to help you? If we don’t treat this, you will be in great pain for several weeks.”

The man under him is visibly struggling to come up with an answer.

Castiel observes Dean, the latter glancing at his hands before a hue of red colors on his face.

“It tickles, okay? It tickles like hell, and I’m embarrassed, you angelic son of a bitch. I can’t believe you made me say that. Now let me go already!”

Dean swears his face has never felt as hot as in this moment, with Castiel straddling his lap, looking down on him with his head tilted towards the side and his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He feels like a mouse in front of a cat. It's like being put on a dining plate with a neon sign above, pointing down at him, saying “Eat me!” while he has a ribbon around his neck, wrapped up like a little present.

“It tickles?”

Having Castiel say it with such innocent curiosity causes another wave of heat to rush from the top of Dean’s head down to his neck.

He swears he must look idiotic, blushing like a high school girl.

“It never had that effect on anyone before. Maybe you are just rather sensitive, Dean,” muses Castiel as he casually grabs the hunter's hands and pulls them over his head.

Dean is about to protest, eyes widening at the sudden action and growing mortified when he cannot pull down his arms.

“You dick, release me!”

“If it’s hard for you to bear the healing, we can secure you. Now that I know you are not hurting, we can go on treating your injuries.”

Dean gapes, inwardly grasping at straws and trying to come up with a counterargument. He racks his brain, searching for anything to make the angel on top of him understand that this is a terrible idea.

“Cas, please. I cannot stand being tickled. I hate it.”

“I will finish as quickly as possible, Dean.”

Dean dislikes how Castiels words and the mischievous glint in his eyes don’t match.

But before he could protest, he finds himself busy biting his lips to prevent from showing any reaction towards Castiel placing a hand on his sides, just below his ribs.If he pretends to be unbothered, he might get the angel to lose interest.

“Since when did you have to touch me directly for your grace to work?"

He barely manages to press the words out between his teeth, concentrating all his willpower on ignoring the tingling sensation.

He swears Castiel's healing has never felt this weird before.

Their eyes meet.Castiel beams.

“I don’t have to.”

Dean narrows his eyes.

“Son of a bitc- ahaha fuck! You dihihck!”

The angel’s mouth curves into a bigger smile as his friend gets surprised by him sending a part of his grace towards the back of his ribs, the body part where all of this had started.

He glances over his shoulder, an amused chuckle joining Dean’s laughter as he catches sight of the wildly kicking legs behind him.

Dean pulls madly at the invisible bonds, holding his arms in place, lips drawn unwillingly into a bright grin as the tingling feeling reappears near his armpits. It was a hard feeling to describe.

The word tingling was not even close to encompassing the sensation he was feeling, but it was the first one he could think of on the top of his head. The touch wasn’t as soft as feathers but more like the feeling of several fingertips constantly fluttering over his skin.

The movements were so unpredictable that it left him on edge, getting caught by surprise and causing his laughter to jump an octave when an especially sensitive spot was being treated.

“The skin and muscle are fairly easy to repair. It seems like your bones have sustained some damage as well.”

“Does that mean you cannot treat them?”

“I can. But I need to increase the amount of grace.”

The hunter pants slightly, regaining his breath.

“It’s not like it could get any worse, does it?”

Castiel only smiles before setting his hands on Dean’s rips, right at the top, but before he lets his grace work, he waits for Dean to meet his eyes.

“I like hearing you laugh, Dean.”

Any smart-ass answer lying on the tip of Dean’s tongue dies as the palms of the angel start glowing, pumping his grace into the human’s body.

“FUHUCK CAHAHAHAS! YOU DAHAHAHAMN ASSHOHOLE!”

The fluttering sensation that had coaxed breathless laughter out of the hunter had been exchanged by the feeling of several hands expertly drilling their fingers into between his ribs, the muscles of his lower back, his upper back, and his shoulders, everywhere where the bruises had been more severe, leaving the man cackling loudly.

Dean was withering under the influence of Castiels powers, trashing as much as he could, but with the man sitting on him and his arms pinned, there wasn’t much he could do.

He was utterly helpless, and the fact that even if he hadn't been pinned, he would still have been under the mercy of the softly smiling angel who was seemingly enjoining himself seeing Dean being reduced into a quaffing and shrieking mess made the sensation tickle even more.

“Cahahas!”

Hearing his name called out with a hint of desperation, the angel reduces the amount of grace, leaving the human twitching from time to time, a bright grin not able to rid of his face but able to catch his breath.

“Hohow lohong doho you nehed? I’m dying hehehere.”

“How could you be dying when smiling so brightly, Dean?”

“I’m better already, I swehahar. You cahahan stohop now.”

“Dean, lying is a sin.”

“NAHAHAHAHA NOHOT AGAIHAHAN! I’M NAHAHAT LYIHIN YOU FUHUCKER!”

“Insulting an angel of the lord is no laughing matter, Dean.”

Castiel gets back to sending grace into the hunter's body, patching up the last few injuries Dean has received during their hunt, but he can’t help himself leaving it by simply laying his flat hands against the other man's skin. He concentrates his powers on the tips of his fingers, as he tickles up and down the hunter's ribs and sides, grinning at the reaction his fingers cause.

His friend trashes around less than before, but his laughter still bounces loudly throughout the small motel room.

“Stahahap tickling mehehe! Nohow you’re juhust beihing a dihick, Cahahas! Ahahaha, wahahit till I geheht my hand ohohn you!”

“Did you know that giggling makes threat sound less… threatening?”

“I’m nahaht gigglihing!”

Castiel merely raises an eyebrow. Without a word, he pulls the grace away and focuses it on a spot he hasn’t paid any attention to before, as it was spared from injuries.

Dean’s eyes widen as all sensations come to a sudden stop. He can finally move his arms again, making him question if he is done receiving this treatment from hell, only for his back to arch upwards and break back down onto the bed when the nearly unbearable tickling sensation focuses solely on his stomach.

He didn’t even notice the angel having moved from on top of him, only registering his newfound freedom of movement as he curled into himself, wrapping his arms protectively around his upper body but having to accept quickly that it did nothing to fight off the sensation.

“My stohomahach didn’t huhuhrt in the fihirrst plahahace. Castiel, make it stahahap!

It didn’t matter how much he trashed, how much he rolled from side to side, or if pressing his head into the pillow, trying to smother his laughing, he couldn’t do anything to fend off the feeling. It wasn’t as bad as when Castiel mended his fractured bones, but it was certainly worse than the light sensation from the beginning.

It was like curious hands kneading and poking all over his stomach, not bothering with any treatment but just acting out of curiosity, searching for the best reactions. It looked for the most sensitive spots only to get back to them with more vigor, with another technique to tickle him silly.

Dean wasn't sure if the angel's grace acted on its own or if it was Castiel noticing his reactions and deliberately sending more grace to those places that tickled more than the others.

The thought alone of the angel knowing and tickling him on purpose made Dean laugh even harder, suddenly feeling more sensitive.

The worst thing about the whole situation was not even the tickling itself. What was driving Dean madder than anything was the presence of the angel. The latter settled down on the edge of the opposite bed, one leg thrown over the other, his eyes never leaving the trashing human.

Embarrassment washes over the younger man as he shoves his face into the pillow.

Castiel was observing him.

While he is dying here, laughing like a little kid, Castiel is just sitting there, unfazed by Dean falling apart from being reduced into an incoherent, babbling, chortling mess.

And he seems to be enjoying it.

“Sadistic son of a bitch,” was all Dean could think before rolling onto his back, feet kicking frantically into nothingness or hitting the mattress, desperately hugging his middle but unable to do anything as the attack moved from his stomach towards his sides and wandering dangerously close towards his hip bones.

Noticing the sound of the human’s laughter growing breathless, Castiel draws back most of his grace, leaving some last traces roaming the hunter's stomach.

“Cahahastiel. Please, stahahap. Thihis is tohoh muhuch. I can't br- breheathe.”

Castiel cocks his head.

Dean is lying on his back, looking somewhat out of it. Still, there is a huge grin plastered on his face.

The past days Dean had been visibly on the edge. He had worried about the hunt and tried playing it cool, but one glance at the younger Winchester told Castiel that Dean was the only one who believed his mask would hide his real emotions.

A hunt not going how planned out isn't out of the norm, but today's events had the already struggling man spiraling.

Maybe it had been one reason why Dean didn't want to accept getting help, having caught onto the idea that he didn't deserve to be treated as some form of misdirected feelings of guilt overcoming him.

Watching his best friend now, Castiel was confident in having done the right thing even though his way of treating Dean and cheering up the older Winchester had been somewhat unconventional.

A movement catches Castiels attention.

The angel's eyes wander towards the hunter's middle.

Dean’s arms twitched, and Castiel watched with an amused grin how the man subconsciously pressed his hands onto the places where the grace tickled him as if he could shake the feeling of that way. The man had his eyes closed, face reddened from all the movement and laughing, and his shirt had ridden up, showing the angel through a slight glimmering of light where his grace was working on the man’s body.

“Your injuries are completely healed, Dean.”

“Great. Then pull your grace back, you feathered son of a – ACK I’m sohohory! I’m so sohhohorry! Pleahahase, Cahahas. Noho mohohore!”

“I’m sorry, what was that Dean? I didn’t understand you between all that giggling.”

“I said I'm sorry! Thahahanks for heahahaling me.”

Castiel opens his mouth only to get interrupted by the sound of the key's turning.

"They had White Cake and even reduced the price 'cause Christmas is over, but it should still taste good and- did something happen?"

Sam places the bags on the small coffee table, turning towards his brother and his angelic friend, eyebrow raised in question.

"Nothing. Just talking," answers Dean, a nervous chuckle leaving him as he looks everywhere but the angel's direction.

The younger Winchester doesn't look convinced and sends Castiel a questioning look, but the latter shrugs his shoulder. Sam shakes his head at their weird behavior before his face lights up and takes in the healthy color on his brother's face.

"I see, you treated his injuries. Thanks, Cas."

He pats the angel on the shoulder, giving it a grateful squeeze before unpacking.

Castiel shoots Dean a glance, the corner of his mouth pulled up.

"I will always treat him. Just say a word."

[astracora]

A Mandated Holiday Break - Chapter 11

Characters: Sylus x gn!mc (poly lads)

Warnings: Suggestive

Word Count: 1024

Written: 22nd December 2024

Notes: Established relationship Sylus/MC-centric but poly LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. I wrote this a while back and stewed on it, but I guess I'm posting it so it stops sitting in my drafts for 500 years, until I forget and come back to be like ??? tf was I working on?

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

Masterlist AO3

Sylus enjoys training with you. If he treats your training in earnest, you respond in kind, determined and focus. As a hunter you want to be good, you want to be capable, you want to be best placed to help people.

However he feels about hunters in general, he knows your drive comes from a determination to help.

There are times, however, that you let the competitive spirit snarl. That's his favourite. Watching you throw yourself at him, determined to knock him on his ass. It's a part of you that stays consistent, and he sees it most when he teases you, when he takes your challenge too lightly. When he pushes you the right way.

When he says you can't do something.

You become determined to prove him wrong.

You always prove him right in one regard, looking at you with your arm pressed into his throat, legs locked. You're as much a dragon as he is.

"So what do I win?"

You gloat, smug, and he flips the two of you, pressing all his weight in. Amused to hear the little wheezed gasp, as he does so. "Did you win?" He holds himself up on his elbows then, nose against yours. Gleaming eyes sharp but not harsh.

He blinks as you blow in his right eye, and pulls back a little bit, a gasp pulling out of his throat. You follow him though, and bite his nose. "Misbehaving little kitten."

Your laugh shoots him through the heart, but you press your advantage, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling. He can taste you on lips already, leaning in to you. His hand plants next to your head, other reaching for you, but you intercept it. Grabbing him, canting your hips up, against his.

Sylus doesn't think of himself as a needy man. He's had no problems controlling himself in any situation. You have a habit of walking his ideals back, in a way he loves and hates.

For a moment, he feels you against him, and his hips jerk, seeking you out more. A growl deep in his throat. Hand by your head clawing at the ground...

Before you flex again, leg wrapping around him, bite his neck and roll.

His undignified 'oomph', is one thing, he commends you anytime you best him (though he would rather you not use methods like that with just anyone), but the disappointed little whine he feels escape him, is another.

This time you don't pin him, you relax and rest your arms over his chest, crossed, and your chin rests on them to watch him. He stares up at the ceiling, huffs once, and then levels you with an irritable look.

"So my prize?"

You're so smug, wearing a smirk he knows is an impression of him. All canines. He loves you, irritable little kitten that you are, because you're as smart as you are curious. As feisty as you are gentle.

As warm as you can be cold.

"I don't remember offering one, what would you like?" Because how could he deny you anything, when all he wants in this world and the next, is to gift you every treasure so you can't think of anything but him when you see your own home in decor.

You tap your chin with a finger, then reach over to tap his nose, "I want..." you pause and hold him there. Over the precipice, as you enjoy to do, knowing his patience is nigh infinite for you. "You to read a book to me."

He blinks, not sure what he expected, but he's learned if he expects anything with you he'll be surprised and shocked more than he's not. Sometimes he cannot understand what goes through your head, though he thinks that could be part of the joy of knowing you.

Even if it does often result in you blurting out something with very little context.

"A book?"

"Yep."

He blows a little bit of hair out of your eyes, resting his hand on your waist and trying to ignore how thrown off his pace he is. A second ago he wanted to devour you. Well. He always does, if you're around, if you're not. He always wants to sate his hunger. Even if it's just burying his nose into your skin and inhaling.

"What book?"

You push yourself up, ungracefully. This time your smile is yours, excited and ready to drag him along again. You're sweaty and you're tired but he's opened a door to another of your interests and now you won't be able to focus until you show him.

He loves little else than allowing you to talk or share. He's record every word if he could.

You barely wait for him to follow, racing off to where his bookcase is, to where you've begun to place your own. Somehow, when he'd offered, he'd gained a bigger reaction than when he made an entire room up for you. Or cleared out space in the closet in his.

As he enters his own room... your room, because truly isn't this whole base yours now, you thrust a book into his arms.

He barely sees the cover before he's being dragged to the bed, arranged how you like, and then unceremoniously sat on.

Sylus exhales and pulls you into his arms properly, brackets you, and rests his chin on your shoulder so he can open Stardust in front of you.

It's well worn and even though the pages haven't been folded, they're greying at the edges. He can tell you've owned it for years. You tilt your head so you can look at him as he starts, chest vibrating against your back and his deep voice lulling you into a calm it's impossible not to relax into.

He has no idea if he's reading it right, if he's supposed to pull voices out of a hat, if you're even going to enjoy his rendition, but your nose nuzzles against his cheek and you close your eyes as he recites words he knows you know off by heart... and he doesn't think too hard about it.

[whoiwanttoday]

They say if you do what you love you'll never work a day in your life but this has always struck me as horseshit. In part because being forced to do something rather than choosing to do it is a good way to sour on said activity, at least in my experience. Do I like chocolate cake? Fuck yeah. If I had to eat chocolate cake 8 hours a day I bet I'd get real sick of it by the end of that first day. Maybe the second. Either way, that part always felt false but more so my issue is my favorite thing to do is nothing. I like having no obligations or responsibilities and my life and time being entirely of my choosing where I can follow any whim I want whenever I want. That means sometimes I laze around and do nothing. Sometimes I watch movies and make a fancy dinner. Sometimes I go for long walks and listen to music. Sometimes I do something that sounds cool and exciting and it's not that I am being vague because I can't think of anything cool and exciting to do but because it's so cool and exciting it has to be kept secret. My point is, no one on Earth is willing to pay me to be a layabout driven by impulse. Which is a long way of saying winter vacation is almost over. For some people I imagine it is over today. They're back in the office. For some it never started. You guys have my sympathy, I used to be that person. I basically didn't have a day off for over a decade before I decided to reassess and get a less demanding job. I am happier now but I also understand I am pretty lucky to have done so. Anyway, this is a long way of saying that because of the person I am I am already mourning my winter break despite the fact that I have two hole days after today when I can do nothing if I want. Which brings us around to Livvy Dunne, who it certainly seems must be doing what she is passionate about. Probably. I can think of few things that would make me hate my sport more than competing at a high level but that's probably why I played one year in college and decided literally everything else about my life would be better if I didn't play any more because I was never particularly driven so much as I did things like that because I was told it was key to a college resume to have diverse extra curricular and somewhere in the back of my head was the idea it would make me cool and popular. I mean, Livvy Dunne is cool and popular so maybe there is a lesson there about trying. But… she's at the end of her career, from here on out I guess she'll be an influencer only? I don't know but boy if I wanted to hate life that would be number one and I do wonder if anyone enjoys that as a job. I am sure they enjoy the benefits but the constantly needing to curate my life to make it looks awesome seems depressing. Maybe not as depressing as going back to work on Thursday but it's up there. What I am saying is Livvy Dunne is really attractive and I have found a way to suck all the fun out of that, so enjoy. Today I want to fuck Olivia Dunne.

[velvetvexations]

Some morrrrre enby takes, plus one about the concept of binary privilege, and as a reminder to be safe...

Disrespecting yourself is when you use the term you actively prefer apparently. It would be much more respectful of me to call myself words that actively make me uncomfortable.

"Grown ass adults should not be embracing immaturity" Wow, absolute dogshit take. Why not? Why are adults not allowed to embrace 'childish' things? Why does it matter how other people refer to themselves, it literally does not effect you if other adults use words or like things that you (general you) think are too childish. I myself am in my 30s and that just sounds to me like more of the same garbage that's always been shoved down everyone's throats about how fun stops at adulthood, no watching shows aimed at kids or having stuffed animals or wearing fun clothes because if you do no one with take you Seriously. No calling yourself a boy or a girl or an enby because those are baby words for babies and letting someone call you that is allowing yourself to be disrespected. Like I'm sorry but that's also the same logic others use to misgender me when I say I use it/it's pronouns, that to them it's disrespectful so I'm really the problem for preferring it. I cannot stress this enough, how other people define themselves and what words they feel comfortable with is none of your business and someone liking a word you don't is not a threat to you. Also like, some of us feel out of touch with our actual ages for one reason or another and may enjoy childish specifically because they're childish, and again, that isn't anyone's business but their own. You can hate being called something, you can want there to be more variety in what terms are commonly used to refer to nonbinaries as a group, you can tell people to not ever uses a specific word to refer to you, and you can be upset that a word you don't like is being used as a default, but you don't ever get to police how other people feel about it or what they call themselves. I am an adult who has never been able to really conceptualize myself as an adult or even a human due in large part to autism and ptsd, and I'm going to call myself an enby and an it regardless of other more Serious Adults are shaking their head and judging me for it, because my identity is for me, not for the approval of others. I didn't mean to go off quite that hard or get so worked up, sorry if that was too aggressive Velvet, I know you don't really have a horse in this race.

As a nonbinary man (as one of mnay mostly-fitting labels), I have deeply mixed feelings on the question of "is enby infantilizing as a default?" because, On the one hand, I understand the linguistic argument that it is on the grounds that many of the most common nouns that end in a long E sound are diminutives or otherwise "cutesy" (baby, puppy, kitty, cutie, mommy, daddy...) - even if the etymology isn't as infantilizing as some myths make it out to be, it doesn't exist in a vacuum with regards to existing language NOR with regards to common stereotypes of nonbinary people, and those things can DEFINITELY be argued to collide in a pretty unfortunate way, On the other hand, there are a lot of people - not everyone who makes the argument, but enough to be a derailing factor in the conversation - whose arguments against it DO come from exclusionist myths about etymology, or worse, "vibes" such that when you take even the slightest look under the surface you see that they've either internalized the stereotype that nonbinary people (other than themselves of course) are all just white teenage girls trying to be special, or at the very least they're letting that stereotype have WAY too much control over them, and often nearly get to the point of saying that ANYTHING other than the longform and almost clinical "nonbinary person" would be too infantilizing, But on the third, transhuman robot hand, well, isn't the line between "letting the stereotype have too much control" and "acknowledging the fact that the language doesn't exist in a vacuum and can have unfortunate implications due to how the sounds of English interact with that stereotype" kind of blurry in the first place? And on the fourth cyborg hand, we STILL haven't gotten the damned exclusionists who will argue for OR against it in bad faith to shut up! Personally I'm on board with the idea of "enban" and "enby" to have the same relationship as "woman" and "girl" + "man" and "boy" - references to the same category of genders, with the appropriate word chosen based on context and Vibes that are loosely but not entirely based on the age of the person in question - but I'm not super invested in the specifics; I like to study them more than direct them, so I'm not gonna be personally offended if that's not what takes off or anything.

i think enby is fine for the most part but as someone who has identified as genderqueer since before people started widely using nb it does bother me a little bit in the same way as a lot of language shifts around "other" genders that there's an assumption that everyone who uses them identifies with the term "nonbinary", which i honestly wouldn't mind as much as an umbrella term if it wasn't for the fact that a large driving force behind this shift was "you can't say genderqueer because queer is a slur and that's icky" (and also the most widely used nonbinary flag was created both because of this and because "too many afabs are genderqueer so it's not a welcoming label for transfems!!" (the person who coined genderqueer is transfem) and i know like nobody knows that anymore but it still stings)

As a black nonbinary person I never understood why nb had to just mean non black or non binary??? thats dumb. anything can be shorted to its starting/defining letters. thats like when people got mad at twitter/tiktok users for shortening white to yr to save space and they weee all like "thats youtube!!" its dumb and no one ever needed to act like they couldn't share a term when context will make it clear what youre talking about. enby is a perfectly grown up word that just fine to personally feel like it doesn't fit without implying that a term many adults comfortably use is infintalizing. just say you dont like it because its not accurate and ask people to use what works for you!

Yeah honestly the enby over NB conversation was... bad. And particularly galling as someone who is a) nonbinary and b) Australian Aboriginal because so much of the framing of it was this very American-centric, 'how fucking dare you not be aware of Black American conversations' vibe from the same people who scream and cry and piss themselves every time one of us calls ourselves Blak or says "hey if you're into omegaverse can you please not use the term a/b/o without the slashes, it's a pretty violent slur towards us" or rejects the term POC as not being relevant to our experience of racism on our own land or literally anything else about our oppression that doesn't centre American voices. It exposed a really ugly side to a lot of anti-racism advocates, many of whom *weren't even Black themselves but white 'allies'* and I really hope we're not about to rehash it just because some people don't like seeing 'enby'. I'm Australian. It's culturally impossible for me to spell out an entire word when there's a shortened nickname version available. Sorry.

“NB exclusively means nonblack” “enby came about as a result of black bloggers saying not to use it” wrong actually! It was a result of white saviors saying that black bloggers said not to use it: we never did ^-^ hope this helps!!

This whole discussion of 'binary privellege' has made me think more about my thoughts about the term privellege overall. I really think its about time we stop referring to marginalized groups as having privilege over one another. Like. I believe that transmisogyny, transandrophobia, and exorsexism are all real forms of oppression. Trans men, trans women, and nonbinary people experience oppression in forms that are often different from each other. But if two people each have privellege over the other in certain areas, doesn't that kind of just balance out to them being the same amount of privelleged? They should be able to talk about their own experiences and what makes them different, but trying to measure which marginalized group has privellege over another one just seems like a waste of time. As a nonbinary person, I face a lot of exorsexism. There's types of transphobia that I experience which the binary trans people around me generally don't. Does that mean they have binary privilege? Absolutely not! The oppression they face isn't better or worse, it's just different. That doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to talk about my experiences or have words to describe them. It doesn't mean my experiences aren't important or worth discussing. But I think framing the difference as 'privelege' inherently implies that my oppression is worse than theirs... and that's the problem. They aren't any better off than i am. We're both still facing bigotry, that bigotry just doesn't look exactly the same. Anyway sorry if this is rambly or doesn't make sense. Brain fog is fucking me up right now but hopefully I've managed to edit it enough to be somewhat coherent. This may or may not be my 5th attempt at writing this ask but at least I THINK it makes sense this time

[misterspectacular]

The Simpsons Season 36 (Spoilers)

Did The Simpsons creators forget Smithers is in love with Mr. Burns? The latest episode of season 36 was weird =/ Not a bad episode story-wise, the jokes were pretty funny, but character-wise, where Smithers is concerned, it felt off. Purely because his love for Mr. Burns was... not there? And that's usually at least 90% of his personality.

It started with him crossing off his to-do list and feeling bad that he was doing Mr. Burns's evil work. The song "I want to break free" was playing. He later gets drunk with Marge and says he feels like he's losing his soul and expressed disappointment at "starting to look like Mr. Burns". Heh??? The guy who thinks Mr. Burns is the most beautiful creature he's ever laid his eyes upon is disappointed that he's beginning to resemble him? THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE

So in this episode he:

Hates his job

Is disappointed that he resembles and is similar to Mr. Burns

Didn't say a single thing to express his obsession/love for Mr. Burns

IS THAT EVEN SMITHERS? WHAT IS HAPPENING?!

I'm wondering if the writers are trying to push Smithers in a new direction. I'm honestly not a fan of later episodes where Smithers hates his job and is looking for love outside of Burns. I don't know if it's supposed to be, like, inspiring? Like he's growing as a person or something? But I prefer it when Smithers is obsessed with Mr. Burns and fantasizes about him constantly. That's a huge part of his character! I miss earlier episodes when he loved doting on Burns, with or without reciprocation.

I'm hoping it's just a part of a bigger story, that'll end in reparation of some kind. I'd love if Smithers started pulling away and Mr. Burns's predatory and possessive instinct kicked in as a result. And then he realizes that he actually enjoys Smithers' attention and affection! It'd be satisfying to see the roles reverse, and put Mr. Burns in the role he's more familiar and comfortable in, which is where he's doing the chasing/initiating.

I just want them to get married already

[chillenby]

Okay. I'll try to explain it as best as I can without spoiling it and while covering everything you might need to now. (If you want me to explain everything else in detail just ask, I'll be more then happy to do so, but I certainly recomend for you to watch or play the game because it's great and has amazing retro graphics and soundtrack)

Since it's a bit longer post I'll just title the segment so that you can skip if you're not interested in something

Intro

It's a psychological horror with darker themes. Rape, murder, suicide and even canibalism. It's a game you can purchise on steam for like 12 bucks or watch a playthrough on youtube (most of them are about 2 hours).

It's about a crew in space. That's all I can say without spoiling it too much. It has a pot of metaphoric meanings and delves into a lot of different deeper topics (which is great if you're into more phylosophic type things and it can cause you to think about it a lot, from their catchy lines to just it over all) and they have a few characters that are very well written and really human.

Daisuke

For characters, Daisuke is the fan favorite, he's the youngest (18-20 years old) and he's the intern. People gravitate to him because of 2 things, 1) they see him as a silly guy (which compared to other characters he is because he jokes the most and is practically a lighthearted character) and 2) they find him relatable because he doesn't know what he wants from his life or his strengths.

Anya

Then Anya is also the fan favorite, she's a polite nurse that in the game doesn't actually have a lot of personality. Which in a nerative way makes a lot of sense. People gravitate to her because some of them have been in similiar situations and she makes them feel seen, while others feel bad for her and from a lot of different ao3 tags say that they think she deserves a hug

Sweansea

Sweansea is that typical old grumpy character you have in a lot of media and he's the engineer of the crew. He's Daisuke's mentor and a lot of people like to think of him as Daisuke's father figure. He's gruff, a bit blunt and in the end has one of the better monologs and opinions of the whole game.

Jimmy and Curly

Jimmy (co-pilot) and Curly (captain) are my favorites and the plot focuses a lot on them because we play as them, switching between their neratives. They're surtainly complex characters and most of the plot is built around them. Jimmy is that assholish character, mean, rude, greedy and selfish, while Curly is that guy people rely on and concider a nice guy. Polar oposites, but they are close friends.

Polle

And then Polle, the lovable mascot of Pony Express (aka the company they work for). She's also used as a metaphore and an amazing one at that. (Can't say anything else so I don't spoil anything and because I fucking hate that pony. Scared me shitless the first game thtough, literally friend had to be on call with me for the last 20 minutes of the game because that stupid Pony was practically haunting my ass).

For the plot, it's not too complex, but I personally find it impactful and as disturbing it is, I hold it close to my heart. It's dark and heavy and simple and complex at the same time. Though, the way the plot is handled through narative gives it that specific charm.

Fandom

For the fandom I'll just say this. Enjoy at your own risk and always check trigger warnings if you're sensitive to something. If you don't like something, just ignore it or go talk with your friend about it. Mouthwashing fandom has a lot of amazing stuff, like from psycho analysis, fanart and certain fanfics, while some miss the point intierly (which is fine, it's not, but if it makes a person happy who cares, I'm not gonna ruin it for them) and some which I personally consider that they go too far. Also, the fandom is perfectly split between people who want to enjoy the dark parts of the game and those who like the silly stuff (memes, jokes, fluff, and they probably do it to 'cope' with the game).

I'm not gonna go too deep into the shipping because everyone has their personal opinions on it, but it's a bit contreversial. At times diving into the proship vs the other side debate.

Music

Last thing, 'Headlock' by Imogen Heap is convidered the mouthwashing song. It's like about how you wanna persue your hobbies and interests, but you're stuck in place unable to actually do it. Which I personally think perfectly fits the game, atleast a very specific scene in the game that actually is one of my favorites and a bit not comforting, but it makes me feel a bit seen. But I think a lot of people actually just like it cuz it's a catchy song with a very nice and specific beat. Also, receantly JT music released the mouthwashing rap which actually covers a lot of the plot, meaning and other parts of mouthwashing. It's also a bop and in the intro they sampled actual sounds from the game which is very cool if you ask me

..

So yea. Sorry for rambling, I covered a few things, I thought would be important without revealing too much if you actually decide to play/watch the game.

WHAT THE FUCK IS "MOUTHWASHING"????

can someone tell me about what Mouthwashing is

my friend is obsessed with it and i wanna learn more about it for her, and i also saw it was a psych thriller and i love those.

lowkey i thought it was the sally face sequel so if anyone could rb and help me out itd be much appreciated

also whos that gay fuck daisueke or whatev