#because what if you have nothing at the moment? it's not as good a reason for me
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maxivstappen · 3 days ago
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DID YOU LIKE HER IN THE MORNING ?
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[ masterlist / requests closed ]
☽。⋆ distance can lead to stupid, reckless decisions. but lando knows better than that, right? — lando norris x reader based on “did you like her in the morning” by nikki
ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 angst! pure angst 𝄞 1.7k words
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You loved a loud life just the same as he did. You enjoyed the traveling, the partying, the sleepless nights, hell, even the stressful nights you wouldn’t trade for a peaceful, quiet, boring, normal life. You were eternally grateful for having a job surrounding the same tracks Lando is driving on, even if that was rather a lucky coincidence instead of a thought-through plan.
You loved it not only because it meant you’d get to be close to your boyfriend most of the time, more so because you got to experience the loudness with him. The parties, the race weekends, just everything. You’d have it without him too, and no doubt, you would have tons of fun doing so, but of course it’s better with a “super cool hot famous boyfriend” by your side, as he liked to call himself.
You loved it, until you couldn’t anymore.
Not as dramatic as it sounds. You were invited to a wedding of an old friend back at home, and Lando, for obvious reasons, couldn’t attend with you, so you flew out the country by yourself, giving Lando one last good luck kiss a few days before the Las Vegas Grand Prix. You missed him dearly, but you also missed your friends at home whom you haven’t seen in what felt like forever, and really, what’s a better reason for a reunion than a wedding?
But that’s where the trouble began.
You liked to call yourself independent. Very independent, even. You didn’t have a problem with being far from Lando for a few weeks, and while you of course loved him more than anyone else in this world, you’ve stated before that in case of you losing the job for whatever reason or if you just couldn’t travel with him anymore, you’d think a long distance relationship would work just well. At least for you.
Of course, the constant missing your partner would complicate things, but that’s still no reason to break up a relationship that has lasted for longer than three years already. At least that’s what you thought.
Lando liked to call himself independent too. Very independent, even. Too bad it’s all a lie.
Lando has always hated the idea of being away from you, or rather the idea of you being far from him. It’s not like he didn’t have any trust in you, it’s just become normal for him to always have you at least somewhat in his reach. That’s how your relationship has always been, you were coworkers before you were lovers.
He didn’t mind you taking a few days off. He also didn’t mind you wanting to spend some time with your family and friends who were still located far, far away from wherever you two would usually have to travel to for the many races. However, he did mind you not being near him.
It bothered him more than he’d like to admit.
You’ve talked about it before, talked about him being too needy and too possessive from time to time, but never once have you two fought about it. You thought you never would, and you were right. Your departure was slightly painful for the both of you, but it was only 2 weeks that you‘d be gone, and it’s not at all like you couldn’t stay in contact. So there was nothing to worry about, right?
Or so you thought.
The moment you arrived at you local airport you saw your mom run up to you, caging you in her arms as if to never let you go again. Your father wasn’t far behind, and then came your brother. It was a sweet little moment of a family reuniting as a whole again. And even though you wanted to set your whole focus on the few next days to come, the lovely wedding and the friends you once lost on the way who you’d now finally see again, Lando never really left your mind. You just didn’t understand why, you weren’t usually like this.
Maybe it was just that after five years of knowing each other and three of those spent dating, you did grow somewhat dependent. you knew it wasn’t the truth, but blaming it on a simple thing like that seemed terribly easier than giving in to the thoughts of what could actually be the cause of it. You didn’t have any time for that. You weren’t here to think about work or about Lando, but about the things that were right in front of your eyes, which at this moment was the beautiful white wedding decorated with all sorts of flowers of sunset hues.
The wedding was held on a beach, surrounded by the dreamy sound of waves crashing and seagulls singing their own nupital melodies. You arrived with one of your old friends Nina, both of you wearing long and flowy pastel dresses, just as the dress code ordered you to. The day went on with you two crying at seeing one of your childhood friends getting married, listening to the heartfelt vows of bride and groom.
Your mind immediately went to Lando and you standing at the altar like they did. You knew it was too soon, and you knew he didn’t have time for marriage, even less for planning a wedding, but you still couldn’t help it. You really did miss him more this time, and throughout the whole ceremony, the feeling of something being incredibly off only intensed.
But the night came, and the feeling faded. Or at least the drinks made it do that.
You were sitting with Nina and two guys you used to be very close with at the dim bar near the dance floor when you suddenly noticed something light up inside your purse. You didn’t mind it at first, not wanting to be rude towards Tom who was trying to talk to you without stumbling over his word completely, but the shots you downed beforehand made it undoubtedly harder.
Your phone lit up again. Slowly getting on your nerves, you decided to wait until Tom’s attention was fixated on Nina again to then check your messages and - missed calls?
Lando hated how his mood changed whenever you were gone. It felt as if there was something missing when you weren’t there waiting for him at home after debriefing or after PR events and whatnot. He missed your hugs and kisses, your smile and most importantly, just your touch.
Truth be told - but never to you - when you first started dating, for Lando, the thriving point was attraction. One month in, that’s when he realized that he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. Not that he minded. Two months in and the two of you made it official, of course not without any drama because how was a McLaren driver allowed to date a McLaren employee? Two weeks and the conversations and the hate online slowly died down, but your relationship kept on blooming. There was just one thing that somehow had Lando incredibly confused - why did your relationship suddenly feel more like you couldn’t get rid of him? Why did it feel like he was the one attached to you instead of the other way around?
Not that it felt bad or anything, he was just very used to have the girl being that dependent on him, to always want his attention, to always ask for his opinion on everything. Now he was the one all over you, and you didn’t mind it at all. You had the man you love wrapped tightly around your finger, just like he had you. For three years now.
But that didn’t help him right now, not with jealousy nagging at his side like a demon. You were out, enjoying your time with people you loved, and while he should be happy for you, he spent his time rather annoyed at you not being where he was. It’s only been a week, and work has already failed to keep his mind off of you. And he hated it. He knew it was the day of the wedding, and he was done wasting his time only thinking about you, so what else was there for a man to do instead of going clubbing with the guys? He hadn’t spent time with them in a long time, neither had he gone clubbing these past fem months, too caught up with Formula 1. So this would be okay, right? Just some drinks to keep his mind off of you.
Right?
15 missed calls from carlos sainz.
that was weird, you thought, and your stomach dropped and you felt the dread creeping up your consciousness. It had you feeling weaker than ever.
You quietly excused yourself to go to the bathroom, though every step towards it made it harder and harder to breathe.
What if something had happened to him? A work incident? Then how did Carlos know? Were they hanging out and he hurt himself? Were they out and someone there hurt Lando?
Did something happen to your Lando?
Your finger hovered shaking over the green button until you finally decided to press it and call the Ferrari driver back. Not even a single beep was heard before he huffed out your name as if he had been yearning for you to finally phone him back.
“Carlos? Is everything okay?” The Spaniard could practically feel your distress through the screen and he swore he’s never felt an urge so strong to punch someone right across their face, let alone his best friend Lando Norris.
It took some time for realization to set in. Your breathing had slowed down but the chills all over your body told that it was a sign far from good. Very far from good.
You could still make out the faint sound of Carlos’ voice as you locked the door of the bathroom stall furthest in the back, however, every word that came after “Lando cheated on you” somehow wasn’t comprehensive to you.
You just hope he’ll still like her in the morning, cause you, for sure, weren’t coming back.
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dissapointu · 2 days ago
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Hello, I wanted to ask you a little drabble with all the arcane characters.
Like how they fell in love with reader ( like what captured their attention etc)
It would be pretty cool in my opinion.
Have a wonderful day\night.
Aaaugh, I made of made this a bit long-(really long, that was sarcasm) I'm splitting it into two portions
Jinx-
Jinx didn’t know what to make of you at first. You weren’t loud or flashy like the people she was used to dealing with. You weren’t trying to prove anything, and yet, there was something about you that screamed different.
She first noticed it when you didn’t flinch at one of her explosions—not the way most people did, anyway. The boom had rattled the room, shaking dust from the rafters, and yet, there you were, brushing soot from your shirt like it was just another Tuesday.
“Nice touch with the blue sparks,” you’d said, nodding at her latest contraption. “Adds flair.”
Flair? Most people would’ve called it destruction. Most people would’ve screamed or run. But you? You tilted your head, eyes bright, genuinely impressed, and for a moment, Jinx was at a loss for words.
It wasn’t just that you didn’t fear her; it was the way you saw her. You noticed the little things—the care she put into her work, the way she tinkered endlessly to perfect her machines. While others saw chaos, you saw art, and for someone like Jinx, that was everything.
The next time she saw you, it was intentional. She didn’t need to bring you a gadget she’d been working on—it wasn’t even finished—but she wanted to see how you’d react. Sure enough, you examined it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world, pointing out details she hadn’t realized anyone else would notice.
“This is genius,” you murmured, tracing a finger along a carved design she’d barely remembered adding. “You really think through every detail, don’t you?”
Her heart did something weird then, like skipping a beat but more… explosive.
From there, it snowballed. You became her favorite person to show her creations to, the only one she trusted to see her work before it was ready. You never judged, never laughed when something misfired—just smiled and asked how you could help.
And Jinx? She realized she’d fallen for you one day when she caught herself trying to impress you. The realization hit her like a grenade: she didn’t just want you to like her inventions—she wanted you to like her.
“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” she said one night, leaning against her workbench, tools scattered around her. Her voice was softer than usual, almost unsure. “Most people don’t get me, but… you do.”
You’d just smiled, that easy, genuine smile that had hooked her from the start. “That’s because you’re worth getting.”
And just like that, Jinx knew there was no going back.
Vi –
Vi wasn’t looking for anyone. She didn’t have time for soft moments, not with everything she had on her plate. But then you came along, and she couldn’t help but notice how you carried yourself—steady, calm, unshakable.
The first time she really noticed you, it wasn’t some grand, sweeping moment. It was quiet. You were helping some kids in the Lanes patch up a rickety swing they used to pass the time. Nothing fancy, just you, a coil of rope, and that determined look in your eyes.
She hadn’t meant to stop and watch, but something about you drew her in. Maybe it was the way you didn’t hesitate to get your hands dirty or how the kids laughed around you, their faces lighting up despite everything the Lanes threw at them.
“You’re good with them,” she said after working up the nerve to approach you, trying to sound casual.
You glanced up at her, wiping sweat from your brow, and gave her a smile that hit her like a sucker punch. “Someone’s gotta be. They deserve better than this, don’t you think?”
It wasn’t just your words that stuck with her—it was the way you said them. Like you meant it. Like you actually believed in something better, even when the world gave you every reason not to.
From then on, Vi found herself noticing you everywhere. The way you stepped up when others hesitated. The way you didn’t back down, even when things got messy. You had this quiet strength about you, the kind that didn’t demand attention but earned it anyway.
She started finding excuses to stick around—helping with repairs, walking the kids home, sparring with you in the courtyard when the opportunity came up. And each time, she found herself drawn to you a little more.
“You’re somethin’ else,” she admitted one night, sitting beside you on a crumbling wall, the city’s broken skyline stretching out before you.
You raised an eyebrow at her, clearly amused. “That so?”
“Yeah.” She rubbed the back of her neck, uncharacteristically shy. “Most people would’ve given up on this place a long time ago, but not you. You stick it out, no matter how hard it gets.”
You shrugged, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “Same could be said about you, Vi.”
That was the moment it hit her—like a punch she didn’t see coming. It wasn’t just admiration anymore. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t ignore.
She fell for you in pieces, each small moment stacking up until it all clicked. It wasn’t about grand gestures or dramatic confessions. It was the way you fit—like you were exactly what she didn’t know she was missing.
And when she finally worked up the courage to tell you, your answer came with that same steady smile that had captivated her from the start.
“Figured it out, huh?” you teased, and she rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away.
Yeah, she figured it out. And she wasn’t letting you go.
Sevika-
Sevika didn’t believe in love. In the Lanes, it wasn’t something people had the luxury of chasing. Survival came first, and attachments were just liabilities waiting to stab you in the back.
But you were… different.
The first time she noticed you, it wasn’t because you were trying to catch her attention. You were too busy holding your own, stepping into a dispute between two gang members over stolen supplies. She’d leaned back in the corner of the Last Drop, watching the chaos unfold, ready to step in if things got messy.
But then you surprised her.
You didn’t raise your voice or threaten anyone. Instead, you stood tall, calm as you defused the tension with a few sharp words and an unflinching glare. You had this presence, like you weren’t afraid of anyone in the room—not even her.
“Bold move,” Sevika had said when you approached the bar afterward, ordering a drink like you hadn’t just stared down two brutes twice your size.
You glanced at her, your lips quirking into a small smirk. “Someone’s gotta keep things from falling apart.”
That was the moment she started paying attention. You didn’t just survive in the Lanes—you thrived. You didn’t let the weight of the place crush you like it did everyone else. And more than that, you cared. Not in some naive, starry-eyed way, but in a way that made you fight tooth and nail for the people who couldn’t fight for themselves.
It pissed her off at first. The way you carried yourself like you weren’t afraid of the darkness around you. She thought it was reckless, stupid even. But the more she watched, the more she realized it wasn’t recklessness. It was conviction.
You weren’t scared of getting your hands dirty, but you never lost sight of what mattered to you. That’s what got under her skin, what kept her coming back to the same barstool night after night, just to see what you’d do next.
She started finding reasons to stick around. Sometimes it was to share a drink, other times to offer backup when things got rough. You never asked for her help, but you didn’t push her away either, and that intrigued her more than she cared to admit.
One night, after a particularly close call with one of Silco’s rivals, you patched up a cut on her arm, your hands steady as you worked.
“You’re too damn stubborn for your own good,” she muttered, watching you through half-lidded eyes.
You chuckled, your touch gentle as you tied off the bandage. “Takes one to know one.”
It was such a simple moment, but it stayed with her. The way you looked at her—not like she was some feared enforcer, but like she was just… Sevika. It wasn’t something she was used to, and it scared her as much as it thrilled her.
Over time, she realized she was looking for you in every crowd, waiting for the nights you’d sit beside her and trade sharp banter over a drink. She fell for you quietly, begrudgingly, like it snuck up on her before she could stop it.
And when she finally admitted it—to herself, to you—it wasn’t some grand confession. It was a gruff, almost reluctant, “You mean more to me than you should.”
Your response? That same infuriating, endearing smirk. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”
Sevika huffed a laugh, shaking her head, but the truth was, she didn’t mind. Because for once, letting someone in didn’t feel like a weakness. It felt like strength.
Silco -
Silco had always been a man of control, ambition, and sharp edges. In the underbelly of Zaun, survival demanded nothing less. Trust was currency, and affection? A distraction. He had long since accepted that power was the only thing worth chasing.
But then you appeared.
You weren’t loud or showy, not one of those people clawing for his attention. No, you worked quietly, efficiently, in the background of the chaos he ruled. You were just another piece in his intricate machine at first—just another person serving a purpose.
What caught his attention first was your unyielding patience. Where others in the Lanes were frantic, desperate to prove their worth, you moved with a calm certainty, like you weren’t afraid of the storm around you. You fixed what was broken—tools, machines, even people—without asking for anything in return.
One night, you’d been tending to one of his injured men after a skirmish, your hands steady as you stitched him up in the dim light of the hideout. Silco watched from the shadows, curious. The man hissed in pain, and you responded with a soft laugh.
“Hold still, or I’ll sew you up crooked,” you teased, your tone warm but firm.
It wasn’t the words that struck him—it was the way you carried yourself. There was no fear in your voice, no need to prove yourself to anyone. You didn’t care about earning his favor or gaining power. You just… were.
For someone like Silco, who thrived on manipulation and control, it was unnerving. People were supposed to want something from him. But you? You treated him like a man, not a king.
It wasn’t long before he started seeking you out. At first, it was subtle. A lingering glance as he passed through the room, a quiet question about your work. You always answered him honestly, without flinching under his piercing gaze, and it left him unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite name.
One evening, after a particularly brutal day, he found you sitting by the docks, staring out at the toxic waters of Zaun. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly at the sight of you, though he didn’t understand why.
“You should be careful out here,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.
You glanced over your shoulder, smiling faintly. “And miss the chance to breathe? I think I’ll take my chances.”
It was such a simple thing, but it stayed with him. In a world that demanded constant vigilance, you allowed yourself to simply exist. It was a quiet defiance, one that intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
Over time, you became a constant presence in his life, slipping through the cracks of his carefully constructed walls. It wasn’t grand gestures or impassioned declarations that made him fall for you. It was the quiet moments—the way you never cowered under his gaze, the way you challenged him without hostility, the way you saw him for more than his scars.
One night, as the two of you shared a rare moment of silence in his office, he finally allowed himself to admit what he’d been feeling.
“You’re dangerous,” he said, his voice soft, almost amused.
You raised an eyebrow, leaning back in your chair. “Dangerous? To you?”
He smirked, though there was no malice in it. “You’ve managed to do what no one else has.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ve made me want something I didn’t think I needed.”
Your smile widened, warm and unguarded, and for once, Silco didn’t feel the need to look away.
In you, he found something unexpected: a quiet kind of strength, the kind that didn’t demand attention but commanded respect. And for a man who had spent his life fighting for control, letting himself fall for you felt like the ultimate rebellion.
Vander -
Vander wasn’t a man who fell in love easily. His life had been shaped by too much loss, too much responsibility. The people of the Lanes leaned on him, and he carried their weight with quiet strength. Love, to him, felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford.
But then, there was you.
It wasn’t some grand moment that captured his attention—it was the small, steady things. The way you moved through the chaos of the Last Drop, keeping the peace in your own quiet way. The way you never demanded his time but somehow always knew when he needed someone to sit beside him in silence.
What struck him first was your kindness—not the soft, fragile kind, but the sort that had edges. You didn’t let people walk over you, but you never hesitated to offer a hand to someone in need. In a place like Zaun, where survival often demanded selfishness, you were a rarity.
He noticed it one night when a brawl broke out in the bar. Two rowdy patrons had nearly overturned a table, and before Vander could step in, you were already there. You didn’t raise your voice or throw a punch. Instead, you placed a firm hand on one of their shoulders, your calm, measured tone cutting through the tension.
“Save it for the street, boys. We don’t spill blood where we share drinks.”
To his surprise, they listened. Vander couldn’t help but chuckle as they slunk off, muttering apologies.
“Got a way with people,” he said later, handing you a drink as thanks.
You shrugged, offering a small smile. “Just trying to keep things from falling apart.”
Those words stayed with him. It was how you carried yourself—like you were always holding the pieces together, not because you had to, but because you chose to.
Over time, he started finding excuses to be near you. A quick conversation here, a shared drink there. You had a way of making him feel… lighter. Like he could let go of the weight he carried, even if just for a moment.
It wasn’t until one quiet evening, after the bar had emptied, that he realized how deeply you’d settled into his heart. You were sitting on one of the tables, cleaning up a spill, humming a tune under your breath. The soft glow of the lanterns lit up your face, and for a moment, Vander just… watched.
“You’re staring,” you said, not looking up.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Caught me.”
You glanced at him then, your smile warm and teasing. “What’s on your mind, big guy?”
He hesitated, uncharacteristically unsure. But then, he decided to just say it—Vander was never one for dancing around the truth.
“You. The way you care about this place. The people. Me.” He exhaled, leaning against the bar. “Never thought I’d find someone like you in all this.”
Your eyes softened, and you set down the rag in your hands, crossing the room to stand in front of him. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased gently. “Took you long enough to notice me.”
He laughed then, a deep, rumbling sound that made your chest warm. “Oh, I noticed. Took me a bit longer to admit it.”
And when you reached up, resting a hand against his face, he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for just a moment. In you, he found something he hadn’t realized he needed—a steady flame in the chaos of the Lanes.
Ekko -
Ekko didn’t believe in distractions. The Firelights needed him, the Lanes needed him. His days were spent fixing the mess left behind by Piltover’s greed and Silco’s reign. He had no time for anything else—least of all love.
But you? You didn’t give him much of a choice.
It wasn’t a single moment that caught his attention. It was a collection of them, like the pieces of a clock coming together. He first noticed the way you moved—quick and deliberate, like you belonged to the rhythm of the chaos around you. No hesitation, no wasted motion. Whether you were patching up one of the Firelights after a mission or organizing supplies in the hideout, you carried yourself with a quiet confidence that made it impossible for him not to watch.
What hooked him, though, was your laughter. The first time he heard it, he froze. It had been after a particularly rough raid. Everyone was tense, the weight of the day pressing down on their shoulders. And then you cracked some joke—stupid, honestly, but something about the way you delivered it had everyone laughing, including Ekko.
That was when he realized it: you didn’t just survive the Lanes. You thrived in them. You brought light into a place where most people only saw shadows.
It started small—an extra second spent talking to you, a lingering glance when he thought you weren’t looking. He’d catch himself gravitating toward you without even meaning to, drawn to the way you lit up a room with just your presence.
But it wasn’t until one night, long after the others had gone to sleep, that he truly understood how deep you’d gotten under his skin. You were sitting by the glow of a makeshift lantern, tinkering with some piece of tech you’d salvaged. The light cast shadows across your face, highlighting the curve of your cheek, the focus in your eyes.
“Burning the midnight oil?” he asked, leaning against the doorway.
You glanced up, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Someone’s gotta keep this place running.”
He stepped closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “You do too much, you know that?”
“Says the guy who can barely take a break,” you shot back, raising an eyebrow.
He huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Fair point.” For a moment, he just stood there, watching you work. The quiet stretched between you, comfortable and warm.
“Why do you do it?” he asked suddenly.
You paused, looking up at him with a tilt of your head. “Do what?”
“Care so much. About all this.” He gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the entire hideout, the Firelights, the Lanes.
Your gaze softened, and you set the piece of tech aside. “Because someone has to. And because… I believe in you, Ekko.”
The sincerity in your voice hit him like a punch to the gut. You believed in him. In a world that seemed determined to tear him down, you stood beside him, unwavering.
“I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. “Guess you’re stuck with me anyway.”
That was the moment Ekko fell. Completely, irreversibly.
Jayce -
Jayce had always been drawn to brilliance. Invention, ambition, ingenuity—they were the cornerstones of what he admired in others. And yet, none of it had ever prepared him for you.
The first time he saw you, it wasn’t in a polished Piltover workshop or a grand council meeting. It was in a small, crowded market on the edge of the Undercity, where the scent of oil and metal clung to the air. You stood at a stall, bartering for scraps and materials like your life depended on it—because, as he’d later learn, it did.
What caught his attention wasn’t just your resourcefulness or the sharp wit you wielded against the vendor. It was the way your eyes lit up when you held a seemingly useless part in your hands, already envisioning the endless possibilities it could unlock.
He didn’t even mean to approach you. His curiosity had a mind of its own. “What are you going to do with that?”
You turned, a little startled, but you didn’t back down from his inquisitive gaze. Instead, you held up the twisted hunk of metal like it was a crown jewel. “Turn it into something brilliant. You’ll just have to wait and see.”
It wasn’t arrogance—it was certainty. And Jayce, who had spent his life chasing impossible ideas, saw a kindred spirit in you.
From that moment, you became an enigma he couldn’t resist unraveling. Every conversation revealed new layers to your ingenuity, your resilience, your unshakable belief in making the impossible possible. And the more time he spent with you, the more he realized it wasn’t just your mind that captivated him—it was your heart.
You were unafraid to challenge him, to push him, to remind him that the world wasn’t just equations and theories but people and dreams. Your passion reignited something in him he hadn’t realized he’d lost: a love for the why, not just the how.
One evening, as the two of you sat side by side, tinkering with a device in his lab, he found himself watching you instead of the work. The way your hair caught the light, the quiet determination in your expression, the soft smile when something finally clicked into place.
“You’re staring,” you teased without looking up.
He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—how do you make everything seem so effortless?”
You grinned, glancing at him with that spark he’d come to love. “It’s not effortless. I just don’t let the hard parts stop me.”
In that moment, he knew he was a goner.
Jayce Talis, the golden boy of Piltover, had fallen in love with you—not because of what you could build, but because of what you built in him: a renewed faith in the beauty of dreaming big, of chasing the spark no matter where it led.
And it apparently led to you.
Viktor-
Viktor didn’t notice you at first, not in the way others might have. He was too focused on his work, his mind consumed by blueprints and equations. But you… you were patient, always there in the background, asking questions no one else dared to ask, seeing things no one else cared to notice.
It was one of those late nights in the lab when you caught his attention. He was hunched over a schematic, frustration etched into every line of his face. You, seated quietly at the far end of the room, had been watching him—though you’d never admit it aloud.
“Did you eat today?” your voice broke through the silence.
Viktor didn’t even look up. “I’m fine,” he replied, a rote answer that wasn’t convincing in the slightest.
You set down your work and crossed the room, standing just out of his peripheral vision. “Fine isn’t food, Viktor.”
When he finally looked at you, there was something in your eyes that made him pause. It wasn’t pity or condescension—two things he’d grown accustomed to. It was understanding, genuine and unyielding, as if you knew exactly what it felt like to lose yourself in something bigger.
That was the first moment he realized you were different.
It wasn’t the last.
You had a way of grounding him, of pulling him out of his own head without judgment. Your presence was quiet but powerful, a steady force that didn’t demand his attention but earned it nonetheless.
What truly captured him, though, was your mind. You didn’t just accept the world as it was; you questioned it, challenged it, sought to understand it. You weren’t afraid to debate him, to push back when you thought he was wrong, and yet you did so with a respect that made him listen.
He found himself looking forward to your late-night conversations, the way you’d linger in the lab long after everyone else had gone home. You’d ask about his work—not just the mechanics but the why behind it, the hopes and fears he buried beneath his relentless drive.
One evening, as you sketched out a rough design on a scrap of paper, Viktor caught himself smiling. Not at the drawing, though it was clever, but at you. The way you bit your lip in concentration, the furrow of your brow, the quiet hum of satisfaction when you got something just right.
“You are remarkable,” he said softly, almost to himself.
You glanced up, surprised. “What?”
His cheeks flushed, and he looked away, fiddling with a wrench. “Nothing. Just… your ideas. They’re… innovative.”
But it wasn’t just your ideas. It was you—the way you saw the world, the way you saw him. Not as a man constrained by limitations but as someone capable of more.
You believed in him, not just in his work, and that was something Viktor hadn’t realized he craved until you offered it so freely.
And as the days turned into weeks, then months, he realized something else: He believed in you, too.
It wasn’t some grand epiphany or dramatic moment. It was in the quiet, shared glances, the lingering touches when you handed him a tool, the way his chest felt lighter when you were near. Somewhere in the midst of late nights and whispered dreams, Viktor had fallen in love.
Not just with your mind or your presence, but with the way you made him feel—seen, understood, whole.
And for a man who’d always fought against the odds, loving you felt like the greatest invention of all.
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chryso-poeia · 2 days ago
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Then it made me understand the importance of being with my pain, to have moments where i don’t look away or cover it with technique after technique. The only true way out of trauma is through. So i honor its good intentions for me. Trauma is emotional energy through hypervigilance, that once converted and in full throttle can take a person as far as their bodies can hold it together. After that crisis. The emotional energy typically has the ability to become inner focused, spiritually focused. Now at that point, when the person alone realizes responsibility, nothing can stop them.
If a person thought survival was dependant on their ability to adapt/accomodate the caregivers ability to meet their needs, i.e fawning. Then that alone can give them an insight into people that most others never will have access to. Once the insight into others stabilizes holistically into self-knowledge. It can make them so self-obsessed and in love with that process that they are free to gloat in how it makes people sick of them.
You cannot make me look away or disconnect anymore. The disagreeable reach further for good reason. They criticize you but their knees would snap from a week in your shoes. No one really has the emotional bandwidth to hold space for you, no one cares that much. Nor can you or should you expect it. Only you care that much because your survival used to depend on it in your view. But it does not anymore.
So when self-caring becomes self-focused, all bets are off. I.e when a person cares enough about themselves, because they are all they’ve got in the end. Instead of caring about the conditioned and confused responses of others, that in turn came from the limited minds of other wounded people. An inheritance of limitation that has only gotten those people as far as they’ve gotten. They will experience the mercy they seek, i am either merciless to myself and merciful to others, or i begin to give myself mercy instead of seeking it externally.
”Fuck forgiveness, i don’t need your permission to live, think and feel as i wish.”
Trauma can make a person strong but if said person is traumatized they’ll likely think ”force and defense” is the way out. Or the healing fantasy of otherness. I’ve personally found that learning about and practicing healthy processing and functioning and the manifestations of self-love and self-focus is the way out. The personal permission slip of letting myself show up as ’one life’ with everything i am at all times is as well. Of seeing that despite my trauma, my heart beats and my breath occurs without my command, this is life.
We are ”human beings” not ”humans doing”. Nothing needs to be done in truth; other than to ’be’. This is the spiritual truth. Now, the spiritual realm can supercharge all of it too. Learning to stack positivity and health in every aspect of life is a big one too for me. Finally though, the difficult emotions have to be felt all the way through, so they lose power over us, this is where i see the benefits of therapy. What is healthy for us never seizes, same for what is unhealthy. No matter how convincing the mind gets.
Finally now, this life is to me, a ridiculously profound experience and exploration.
I was given a beautiful spirit in the womb of my mother, this spirit is a sun shining, no matter how dark the clouds get.
My childhood trauma didn't make me stronger. it made me a people pleaser. it made me forgive way too much. it made me not speak when i'm supposed to. it made me an extreme empath.
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puckinghischier · 17 hours ago
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https://www.tumblr.com/puckinghischier/766626512832266240/hiiiiii-ive-come-to-beg-for-crumbs-lol-seeing
thinking about this for no reason tonight…quinn getting home extra pissed bc he got ejected and you aren’t helping, prancing around in only his jersey doing everything you can to get him to take his anger out on you again
you watched the whole thing happen from the tv in the hotel room, choosing to stay in tonight because it was so cold out. you hate to say it, but you were turned on the second you saw him looking down at the player on the ice, jabbing his stick around after the play had already stopped.
you knew he’d be back early, having already texted you that he’s forgoing any media because he just wants a hot shower and some greasy take out. you had other plans, however. you knew he’d have some pent up feelings. he always tries to hide how frustrated he really is, not wanting to set a bad example for any young captains or players watching. so, you decide to use it to your advantage.
you strip yourself from your clothes, walking over and rummaging through quinn’s game bag. you find the clean, black, skate jersey tucked away inside, and slip it over your bare body. you sprawl yourself out across the large bed, jersey ridden up just enough so your ass peeks out. you lay there in wait, wanting to be nothing more than his stress reliever tonight.
when he finally makes his way into the room, he tosses his bag down at the door and stalks towards the bathroom. he doesn’t even look your way, shutting the door and turning the shower on. shock and disappointment clouds your features, a small bit of embarrassment settling in your stomach. you stay put, though. waiting. surely when he sees you, he’ll pounce.
he emerges from the small bathroom twenty minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. he looks at you on the bed, noticing your state.
“why are you wearing my skate jersey?” he asks, not hinting at whether he’s pleased or not.
you shrug. “just…felt like it,” you try to sound sultry and seductive, letting him know what you want.
he stands and stares for a moment before shaking himself out of the trance, walking over to grab a pair of black boxer briefs from his suitcase, dropping the towel and sliding them up his legs before you can even appreciate his bare ass on display.
“did you find anywhere that’s still open and sounds good? m’starving,” he asks you, not bothering to put sweats or a shirt on.
“not yet…didn’t know if maybe you wanted something…sweeter to eat,” you roll over, spreading your legs slightly, giving him a glimpse of your damp pussy.
he sighs out, closing his eyes and pinching his nose while tilting his head up. your embarrassment creeps back in, picking up that he clearly doesn’t want to do this tonight.
you sit up, tugging his jersey down to cover yourself, cheeks flushed and eyes stinging with oncoming tears you will yourself not to drop.
“s-sorry. i’ll…uh…go look up some menus on my phone,” you whisper out, not meeting his eyes as you stand.
you don’t see the way his eyes snap open to look at you, the embarrassed and dejected tone causing alarms to go off in his head.
he reaches out and grabs your arm as you try to walk past him, stopping you in your tracks. placing both hands on your biceps under his jersey, he turns your body to face his, a soft “look at me,” forcing your attention to his face.
he brings a hand up to push a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand trail down your face before finding its previous spot on your arm.
“m’sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. s’just…not this time,” he tells you, squeezing the soft flesh of your arms.
you nod, but you need to know if it’s you, or if he’s just really not in the mood. “was…,” you trail off, not knowing if you can handle the answer if it’s not in your favor. “was the jersey too much? just thought, i don’t know…you always say how much you like seeing me in them, and figured you’d need some…stress relief after tonight, so…” you leave the sentence open ended, assuming he understands what you’re not saying.
he chuckles out a dry laugh. “baby, i love seeing you in my jerseys so much, you have no idea,” he lets his gaze travel down to the way your body is swallowed by the black fabric. “but, i don’t trust myself with you tonight,” he confesses, looking back up at your surprised face.
“quinn, i trust you. i do. i know you’d never go too far, or do anything i wasn’t comfortable with,” you rush out, your hands flying up to grip both of his forearms.
he shakes his head, letting it drop. “sweetheart, you have no idea how much i’d love to have my way with you tonight, but i’m so pissed off. so mad at how tonight went. and the fact the team acted like they didn’t even need me?” you can see his eyes darkening the longer he talks, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. “can’t promise what would happen. how rough i’d be. don’t want to hurt you, or worse, scare you off,” he snaps out of his little trance, his grip loosening, but not before you whimpered at the burning squeeze.
it’s your turn to shake your head at him, hands leaning his arms to touch his face.
“q, please, i promise you won’t scare me off, or hurt me. i know my limits, and so do you. i trust you. trust yourself,” you plead with him.
you can tell he’s thinking it over, watching the conversation he’s having with himself in his head.
“i-are you sure?” he asks, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.
“use me,” is all you say in response, leaning up on the tips of your toes to whisper the words in his ear seductively. for good measure, you lick a stripe from his ear down his jaw and to the base of his throat.
the growl that erupts from where your tongue was just exploring is carnal, shoving you back from his body towards the bed. the force catches you off guard, falling onto your back on the plush surface.
he walks the short steps towards you, hovering over you. “tell me to stop at any time, okay?” he speaks softly, but with meaning, wanting you to know you’re still the one who’s really in control here.
you nod, sighing out a “okay,” as he rests a large hand on your thigh, sliding it all the way up to your chest, bringing the jersey with it.
he teasingly pinches a nipple, earning a moan from you as you arch your back into the sensation. he looks down at your face, loving how desperate you already are for him.
“remember, you asked for this,” he reminds you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the hungry, dark look on his face.
‘sure did,’ you think to yourself, knowing if last time was anything to go off of, tonight, coming off of an ejection rather than a simple minor penalty, you were in for a treat.
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serendipitous-imagines · 3 days ago
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Can you do a Homicipher Mr Gap x transmasc reader smut fic? Maybe w him eating the reader out? Perhaps?
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cws/tws: female genitalia verbiage, oral, fingering, begging, edging
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omg,,, my first homicipher request!! i have been so in love with all of the characters in this game and it has been so fun playing through all of the routes! i do get easily jumpscared bc i am a coward but hey, fear and adrenaline adds to emotions I am pretty sure ;> as always~ the fun stuff is under the cut~
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Where were you again...? Oh, right, you were stuck down here, running around mindlessly, looking for an elevator that may or may not bring you back to your world... And everyone surrounding you was a creature that was almost beyond human comprehension. But... they were kind, kinder than anyone had ever really been to you, and they cared, they cared so much about you, about how you felt, about how your body ached and reacted. Sure, it could have been because they wanted to do experiments on you, maybe even take your arms, but it being cared for like this felt so nice. Honestly, it would be a waste to leave everyone down here. How would you even live life normally again after meeting everyone? A soft groan escaped your lips as you rolled over on the bed, flopping your head down into the pillow that had definitely been untouched for a while, but it was better than laying on the ground. You could not imagine how it felt for Mr. Chopped- where even was he? Where was anyone? The room suddenly felt far more cold and empty than it had before. Anxiety crept into your chest and in an attempt to comfort yourself, you pulled the white blanket up to your head, wanting to hide from the vast empty echoes of the labyrinth where you found yourself confined. ... Why did it feel like you were being watched...? Lifting the sheet up hesitantly, you tilted your head downwards, unknowingly holding your breath as you glanced down at your legs. Nothing... You set the sheet down and let out the breath you had been holding, looking around the room. You were just being paranoid because you were alone, there was nothing to worry about, you were sure Mr. Crawling would be around at any moment and you would feel better. Shaking your head, you lifted the sheets to lay back down and- "AHHHH!!!!" Your whole body jumped, a scream involuntarily coming out, legs pressing together as you made eye contact with Mr. Gap smiling up at you from under the covers. "When did you get here?!" you yelled, fingers trembling as you held the sheets up, eyes wide.
"I help..." Mr. Gap mumbled, a smile on his face, his visible eye upturned with small crinkles in the corners of them. "Is there a reason why you are smiling so hard?" you asked, a smile on your face, wondering what organ or part of your body he was going to ask to take. Mr. Gap tilted his head, not understanding your question, his smile still ever-so-prevalent. "Give?" he asked. "Me want have." Mr. Gap repeated, his voice a little more firm. You could feel his warm breath hitting the insides of your thighs, goosebumps appearing on your skin from the warmth in the cold room. "Want what?" you asked, thighs shifting to close from the embarrassment of Mr. Gap's head being so close to such intimate areas. "Want you." Strong hands wrapped themselves around the inside of your thighs, pinning them open despite your attempts to force them closed. "M-me?!" your voice squeaked in surprise as your pants were ripped clear off of your legs. Mr. Gap's face leaned forward, huffing your scent, his fingers digging deeper into the squishy flesh of your thighs. "Smell good. Smell like. Want. Want. Want." Mr. Gap repeated, massaging your thighs in his palms obsessively, his words melting into mere mumbles as his teeth caught the fabric of your underwear, ripping them off (though you were unsure if he ate them or dropped them onto the bed, they were destroyed anyways). "Mr. Gap..." a breathless mutter came from your lips as Mr. Gap's mouth wrapped around your pussy, his tongue frotting against your clit. Your hips lifted at the sensation, a small whine leaving your lips as Mr. Gap's tongue started to speed up, greedily lapping up the arousal that started to drip from your vagina. How did he even know how to do this? Your hand slid beneath the sheets, wrapping your fingers around his hair as his tongue buried itself inside of your pussy, rubbing against your insides, easily gliding around in your arousal. Mr. Gap let out a low groan, a noise you had never heard him make before as his hand slid up your thigh before hovering just below his chin. His lips wrapped themselves hungrily around your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves as two of his fingers circled around your soaked and sensitive entrance. A moan of pure desperation and a need like none other you have felt before came from your agape mouth, tugging on Mr. Gap's long hair, which had started to become knotted between your fingers. Your gazes caught one another, and you could see and feel his smile get wider before he sunk his fingers without warning into you. Your eyes widened at the sudden intrusion, walls clenching around Mr. Gap's unforgiving fingers that slid deep inside like he was going to pull your internal organs out from you. Your hips rocked, riding his fingers as his tongue pressed against your clit, flicking up and down as he sucked. Those calloused fingers provided a much needed texture, curling inside of you and forcing your walls wider open. Hearing such beautiful mewls coming from you, and feeling your hips starting to tremble, closing in on your orgasm, Mr. Gap cruelly slid his slick-covered digits out of your pussy, rubbing your hole as you gasped and looked at him with eyes that could only be described as downright pathetic. In an action even more cruel, he pulled his mouth away from your swollen and throbbing clit. Your head lifted, your eyes wide in surprise as he rested his head on your thigh and just smiled at you, a taunting, cruel smile. "You know exactly what you are doing..." you whined out, rolling your hips towards his face. "Me funny." "No," you retorted back with a pout on your lips. Mr. Gap laughed, fingers still mindlessly rubbing your opening, which was now soaking the sheets beneath you. "Me funny. You cute." Mr. Gap looked up at your face, which was twinged pink before he pushed three of his fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out of your hole far rougher than he had before. At full force, your orgasm hit your body at full force, crying out Mr. Gap's name as your cum squirted into his mouth and he greedily swallowed it.
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FANDOMS ~ MASTERLIST ~ COMMISSIONS ~ REQUESTS
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heegyukeluv · 21 hours ago
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complementary - the physics of your body [part 2] (sjy)
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pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader
synopsis: Jake loved physics as much as he loved you.
my's note: part 2 is here earlier than expected because i'm anxious 😀
warnings: trauma from parents, fluff, angst, drama/arguments, more physics stuff lol, pet names (babe, doll, good girl…), reader blushing/turning red!, reader have a bit of an explosive demeanor, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f.), squirting, jk cum inside, overstimulation (f.), bathtub sex. lmk if i missed something!
wc: 13k
NOT PROOFREAD.
part 1
Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.
Was it worth it?
Jake was in your mind throughout the entire night.
When you woke up the next morning, your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and your body craved a rest you knew you couldn’t give it – not anytime soon, at least. Both physically and mentally, you were utterly drained.
You had spent part of the night wide awake, crying and torn between two nearly impossible choices: breaking things off with Jake or fighting to keep him. It was a strange, bitter feeling that sat heavily in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t dissolve with the tears or the long hours – it only lingered, raw and unresolved.
Jay ignored you on Saturday. And again on Sunday. You ignored Jake on Saturday. And again on Sunday.
Jake  assumed your sudden distance was due to your determined spirit, convinced you were throwing yourself into studying for your final exams. He didn’t want to disturb you and instead left sweet, encouraging messages to cheer you on without adding to your stress. But something in the way you responded – or rather, in the way you didn’t – planted a seed of doubt in his mind.
He called you and you dismissed.
The lump in your throat only heavening within each missed call and message left on read, realizing you could be hurting Jake as much as you were hurt.
You just didn’t know what to do, what to expect or where to run, because everything seemed wrong or difficult; Jay wasn’t there for you, and you couldn't reach Jake because he was the reason Jay wasn’t there for you.
Messy, confused, chaotic.
As the night settled quietly in your apartment, you opted not to leave your room. Your face swollen with heavy tears that spilled just like a waterfall. 
But then a sudden outburst of words being spoken loudly in your living room got your ears perked, your heart speeding it beats, your stomach knotting in despair as you made your way towards the noise.
“Where is she?”
“You’ll not see her.”
After feeling something was off, his instincts screamed for him to take action, so Jake immediately sped his car all the way to your apartment. He had his mind racing, spinning even, a dreadful feeling creeping inside his chest while each possible scenario played out in his head. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he found when he finally landed his eyes on you.
Your figure appeared in the doorway the very moment Jake asked about you, almost as if his words had summoned you, drawing you in like an unshakable spell. Under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, poetic even. But not now. Not like this.
“Y/N! Oh, my God," Jake exclaimed, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of relief and alarm. He expertly sidestepped Jay’s attempt to block him, his focus zeroed in on you as though nothing else mattered.
You flinched as he closed the space between you, your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly as you let him pull you into his arms. His hold was firm but not overbearing, like he was trying to shield you from a world you desperately wanted to escape.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with urgency, concern dripping from every word. Then, without waiting for an answer, his gaze darted to Jay, his tone sharpening into something far more dangerous. “What the fuck happened?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and crackling with tension. The room felt suffocating, the silence a cruel prelude to whatever would come next.
Your body gave up. Jake's scent enveloped you like a mist, soothing and soft, allowing you to be your most raw version – the one in desperate need of refuge. The painful sobs tore through you, your body shaking against Jake’s chest as he tightened his hold protectively, as though he could physically keep your pain away.
“You two happened.”
Jake stiffened as Jay’s words cut through the atmosphere, your entire body shuddering, a pang in your chest leaving you breathless for a second. Jake’s head snapped towards his best friend, panic underlying his voice as he feared the worst.
“What?” 
Jay let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. “She’s my sister, Jake,” he could have stopped just at that, it would be enough to make Jake's terror increase significantly. But he didn’t, he made sure that his every word was loud and clear. “My little sister! Did you even think for one second before–” He stopped, gulping while a hand ran through his blonde strands, eyes never wavering. “Before hooking up with her? I know about your fucking casual relationships, Jake.” 
Jake’s grip on you loosened just enough for him to take a step back, but his touch remained close, grounding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, your voice raw and trembling.
“It’s not just a casual–”
“Please, stop,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with fresh tears, fluttering close, and not really aiming for anyone in particular. “I can’t handle this right now.”
Jay’s expression faltered for a moment, realizing he might have gone too far. On the other hand, Jake looked at you, confused. 
“Please, go.” You sniffed, unwillingly pushing Jake away from you. He stumbled on his feet a little, offering you the most lost, baffled puppy eyes. You wished you had kept your eyes closed, the pain in your chest growing heavier each passing moment. “I– I appreciate you for coming, but… But just go, please.”
Guilt. You felt the guilt slowly and painfully eating away at you. Guilt for hurting the one person who cared most about you. Guilt for letting things unfold the way they did. Guilt for liking – loving – Jake.
You were torn between confronting Jay, your only family that remained by your side to fight for Jake, and letting Jake go, as a way to go back to how it was before.
There was no possible choice, everything felt like a fresh, open wound and the argument only put pressure on it.
“Alright.” Jake whispered, his eyes lowering until they rested on the floor. “I’m going, because you’re asking me to,” he nodded to himself, quickly taking a glance at Jay over his shoulder before approaching you; the phantom of his touch lingering on your fingers as he let go of your hand. “But I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now that I finally have you.”
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Jay had not spoken a word to you in a whole week.
He avoided the slightest interaction with you, going out of his way to ensure that your paths rarely crossed. Yet, every day, he still managed to prepare your full meals, leaving them meticulously arranged on the counter, as if to fulfill a silent duty. It was a strange contrast – his actions speaking of care, while his absence screamed louder than words ever could.
Jay would leave the house earlier than normal and return just in time to prevent having you under his line of sight, a perfectly calculated timing you wished to end soon.
The unspoken tension lingered in every corner of the house, a suffocating reminder of the fracture between you both.
He didn't strict your routine nor made you change your lifestyle, but it weighed just as hard. It somehow felt way worse than when your parents treated you back then, yelling harsh words alongside punishments to put you back on the line or regain control over your life.
Receiving the heaviness of your brother’s silence cut deeper than anything else, mainly because he was your only true family.
On the other hand, Jake was dealing with a double loss. It hurt to feel like losing his best friend, to watch his messages being ignored and having his calls go to voicemail, to be prohibited to step into his house under any circumstances.
But the idea of losing you definitely started to hurt way more.
In the middle of the week, you called him. Your voice was weak, almost fragile, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.
“I aced my physics exam,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you… for everything.”
“No way!” Jake exclaimed, his voice lighting up with a rush of pride and excitement as he hid himself in the company’s bathroom. A big smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the one he always wore when he was truly happy for you. You couldn’t see it, though. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you would beat that exam's ass.”
That small interaction somehow felt like a bullet had lodged in his chest and he couldn’t run to the hospital to resolve it. It was almost robotic, far from utterly genuine, because there was a thick smoke of tension that suffocated his senses, that reminded him you were slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. God, he was your boyfriend! Not a random.
You giggled at his choice of words, a sweet, genuine sound that had not been present in days. The sound of your happiness made his heart shrink, as if it was both breaking and expanding at the same time. He wanted to hear more of it, wanted to make it last forever. The warmth in his chest turned into a wave of determination.
“Thanks to you, Jake,” you whispered, the words soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken.
And without missing a beat, Jake was already planning his next move. “That’s it. I’m coming to pick you up.”
The certainty in his voice was unwavering. You tried to argue, to refuse, to come up with something to stop him, but he wasn’t having it.
“Your work–”
“I can leave early.”
“But it’s far–”
“I don’t care.”
He was already thinking of you and you only – of the way you deserved to be celebrated, of how he just wanted to hold you close, to kiss you. He missed you so fucking much it hurt, it painfully hurt.
“I’m picking you up,” he repeated, this time softer but no less sure.
“But–”
“Don’t even try to argue.”
You could hear him smiling through the phone, and it made your heart ache. Why did this feel so wrong, and yet so right at the same time?
“Wait for me, my angel. I’m on my way,” he finished, his words like a promise.
You felt your heart race, even if a part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn’t need to go. But at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to stop him, so you waited. You waited for the man of your life.
Ever since, Jake began picking you up from your classes every single day. He would have his lunch with you and video call you during the night, singing a sweet lullaby until you fell asleep. He bought you a cake and kissed you deeply to celebrate your achievement, once again voicing out how proud he was.
You needed support, you needed someone that had your back, and Jake was your boyfriend, the one who should be giving you the comfort you deserved.
It was unbearable to watch you withering quietly and not having much to do other than offer some hugs and kisses, other than have his hands on yours, other than his caresses on your hair. 
However, as soon as you started to lit up again with your jokes and smiles, Jake realized it was worth it. His efforts were worth it, and he would keep doing a million things, a million times over, if it meant seeing you happy.
But there were days when you slipped back into the overwhelming sadness, due the silent reminder from Jay that his treatment of you had not changed – and maybe never would.
You couldn’t help but believe he felt betrayed, and you didn’t have the strength or courage to change his perception.
Deep down, you knew yourself well enough to understand that any confrontation would be ugly – because, beyond sadness, you also carried the weight of a quiet, lingering anger.
“He just needs time,” Jake said, offering you the same reassurance every damn day.
Two weeks have passed since Jay discovered your relationship with his best friend, but it felt like ages, painful ages, days that you had to drag yourself through it, finding perseverance in the depths of your soul to keep going, keep pushing through it.
And you don’t think you would be able to do it if it wasn't for Jake.
He was now hugging you, one hand kindly caressing your back, the other firmly holding yours. You had curled up against him in the car, your body trembling as you sobbed into his chest, trying to calm yourself by hearing his gentle breathing.
The sound of your sobs broke his heart. He knew you didn’t want to cry, but he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it stop. All he could do was hold you, let you pour out your emotions, and be there for you.
“I don't even know why I'm crying right now,” you said with a broken voice, burying your face deeper on the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jake whispered softly, his voice low, the kind of soothing tone he knew you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to know. Just let go, my love.” And so you did. The pain, the confusion, the despair, the anger, everything weighing on you felt too much to bear, flowing away through your wrenching tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jake,” you mumbled between sobs, your voice shaky, “I never thought he’d be like this… It’s been so long. I never thought I’d lose him.” Jake’s grip on you tightened. He understood the intensity of your pain; he could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, in your words. He never felt this way before, like lingering on a thin string of losing his mind, feeling so, so useless. Jake wished he could erase all your pain and sorrow, or at least transfer it to him. 
On that very day, Jake made a quiet promise of never, ever, breaking your heart. 
“You won’t lose him,” he said gently, nuzzling his chin on the top of your head, the shampoo scent calming his nerves a little. He hoped to give you the same comfort. “You just need to give him time. He’ll come around, I know it.”
You let out a deep, fragile sigh, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to stop the tears streaming freely from your eyes, sobs echoing through the car softly as you stained Jake’s shirt. He seemed not to care, arms around you as though he could shield you from the gloom that slowly and painfully swallowed you, as though he could maintain you with him, forever. 
Jake held you as close as possible, as reassuring as possible, as grounding as possible; a comforting, sweet, gentle cocoon anchoring you, as his hands drew subtle circles on your back.
With a mild push, you pulled away from Jake embrace just enough to murmur, voice raw, shaking. 
“Sorry, I dampened your shirt.”
“I love you.”
Jake said, nearly at the same time.
On that very day, Jake made a loud promise of loving you unconditionally forever. 
The words tumbled out of his mouth, soft yet firm, as though they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. His voice carried a certainty that cut through the fog of your sorrow, the three words echoing louder than your sobs ever could.
You peered up with your glossy eyes, shooting Jake a flabbergasted glance that replaced your broken expression. His chest tightened, his heart nearly shattering at the sight of you, so brittle, so vulnerable, so utterly… destroyed.
Jake wanted to do more than just hold you. He wanted to wrap you in the warmest, coziest blanket and protect you from the world and all the pain it had inflicted. He wanted to whisper reassurances until his voice gave out, to erase every tear from your cheeks with gentle kisses, to love you so deeply that you would never feel this hollow again.
He wanted to shower you with love.
The same love he was sure he nurtured for you. The same love that had been haunting his entire being to voice out, suffocating, desperate to be born into the world you both shared. The same love he discovered he loved to feel. 
Jake loved to love you, because you made it easy to.
“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing slightly.
“I love you. I don't know what to do in this situation, but I know I love you. And I think you should know too.”
You hesitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while no words came out, because you had nothing that equaled the sudden sweet burning sensation that spread inside your chest as you heard those pretty words. 
Love.
You didn’t remember loving someone as much as you loved Jake.
Over the past few days, Jake had made it increasingly difficult for your love to remain a mere whisper in the depths of your mind. He had proven himself deserving of your affection, your care, your attention – because he gave just as much, if not more, in return. He had broken through the protective barriers of your heart, the ones that kept strangers away; except Jake wasn’t a stranger anymore. Perhaps, deep down, he never was.
Beyond the chaos within you, the silent, yet deafening conflict of your situation with Jay, Jake had stirred a yearning inside you – a desperate urge to scream to the world that he was the love of your life.
It was an uncontrollable desire to say it out loud, to tell him you loved him the way a painter loves their muse, the way a musician treasures their draft, the way a photographer cherishes their landscapes.
It was a love that was raw, sincere, genuine – achingly so. And it was a love you were happy to know it was mutual.
Jake was the most gorgeous star, brightening your profoundly clouded sky. 
“Jake–” You finally managed to speak, not exactly aiming for anything other than just… Say something. But Jake interrupted you with a kiss. 
“You don't have to say it back.” He murmured, lips grazing on yours as he cupped your cheeks, gentle eyes tracing the lines of your mildly swollen face. You still looked stunning. He couldn’t help but sigh, a mix of adoration and longing in his gaze. “I know I caught you off guard. I'm not asking you to love me back right away.” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness – love, devotion, and the kind of affection that made your heart ache. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to keep it there. "Just know that I, Jaeyun, love you."
You bit your lower lip, but it didn’t do much to contain your wide grin. The tears, once drenched in sorrow, now filled with uncontrollable happiness, exploding in your chest just like fireworks. With a fear of missing the time, you shook your head still in disbelief, leaning in closer as you whispered.
“I love you too, Jake.”
And just like that, Jake had his lips working on your mouth deliberately, distant from what you normally did together. It seemed he wanted to take his time, heartfeltly exploring and appreciating the attachment of your lips together, as though he was memorizing the taste of you. And it was definitely different.
It tasted like love.
Your tongues swirled in a beautiful languid dance, a rhythm only you two could follow, the kind of connection that felt natural and right, like two halves of a whole, complementary.
Jake’s hands slid down to your nape and waist, pulling you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap where you could feel his warmth radiating into you.
There was no rush, no urgency. There was only raw, honest love between you two – pure and untainted. No distractions. No lust. Just the quiet, steady beat of two hearts that had found each other in a world full of noise.
Jake loved you. You loved Jake. And right at that moment, that was all that mattered.
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The car engine sound soothed the silence with a steady hum. The radio played some random song you didn’t bother to pay attention to, not when your head was wandering amidst the chaos happening there. 
Your life was a complete mess and your anxiety bubbling up, not knowing exactly what to expect from that weekend trip.
Yeah, trip.
Just two days ago, Sunghoon showed up at your doorstep holding bags of your favorite food and wearing a pitiful face. You didn’t understand the sudden hug, much less the following waterfall of “I’m sorry’s” he mumbled with a broken voice against your hair while pulling you closer.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you and Jake.”
You remember his words vividly, your confused state, your hands now knowing what to do or your brain not fully processing what he just said, because no one actually knew about you and Jake. But your memory made sure not to erase the following addon.
“I unintentionally snitched on you and him.”
Sunghoon stayed the whole night on the verge of crying – and you never saw that man with anything near to glossy eyes, so it seemed to be a real business for him – explaining what happened that night and how Jay found out about your hidden romance with his best friend.
His drunk ass – as he said – went back home way too earlier than both of you expected, and he could have turned a blind eye – ear, in that case – and said nothing if he knew the woman screaming Jake’s name in his bedroom was actually you, and not a random chick – his words.
So he absently texted Jay about it, thinking he was too high on his alcohol trip for hearing your voice screaming Jake’s name, teasing as he said “That would be crazy, right? That girl is really having a good time,” just to get under your brother’s skin as he always did.
However, for his misfortune – and yours –, it was you.
And Sunghoon even showed you the texts, where Jay replied with a brief, simple: “Well. Y/N went to Jake’s to study. Hah.” before turning off his phone and not receiving the next messages Sunghoon sent, trying to ease the situation.
At first you couldn’t help the bitter feeling on the back of your throat as you heard his side of the story, aware of his guilty part on it, nonetheless, to finally have a clarification of what led your relationship with Jay down to shambles was actually relieving, especially when Sunghoon said he had a plan to suggest Jay to go with them in a trip as a way to clear his mind, and then you and Jake would go as well without him knowing, and with everyone together – Heeseung too, since he was part of the friend group – it would be easier to face the problems and wrap it up with a happy ending or whatever.
Sunghoon reassured you that both he and Heeseung were on your side of the story; Jake was a good guy and they trusted him to make you happy. But Sunghoon also understood Jay’s position, since he had sisters, so he could try to help with that part as well.
Everything seemed perfect.
But it didn’t ease your comfort as you drove with Jake towards the destination, not even with his free hand holding yours and kissing the back of it gently every once and while. 
“Are you hungry, my love?”
Your sorrow facade slipped just a little by hearing Jake’s tender words and the cute pet name, still not used to it. 
“A little, yeah. But… I don’t think I can eat right now.”
Though you didn’t see, Jake nodded, knowing better than to try to pursue you out of your stubbornness. Now practically spending entire days with you, he mastered the art of knowing when to push you out of your shell and when not to. That moment you needed silence, comprehension and someone to be there for you just to make sure you were doing fine. 
You couldn’t be more glad for having a man like Jake in your life. 
And quietly, you both wished for that trip to change at least a bit of whatever was going on in Jay’s mind.
So when you both arrived – twenty minutes after the others – and Jake parked his car, you quickly spotted Jay’s blond hair amidst people in the hotel’s lobby. He wore a relaxed face, sitting on one of the couches and happily talking with his friends while they waited for you two.
The makeshift excuse Sunghoon and Heeseung told was that they were all waiting for other two friends they invited from college as well, even naming them as a way to ground the lie. 
Jay didn’t mind waiting for the said people, not at all. But he also didn’t hide his surprised and slightly disgusted face when he saw the actual two friends.
“I’m with you,” Jake muttered close to your ear, holding your hand tightly. “Always.”
You just nodded, feeling the weight on each step you took until you approached them, three pairs of eyes hovering over your presence. 
While Heeseung and Sunghoon happily greeted you both with big, genuine smiles, even hugging you briefly and muttering a quiet “It’s gonna be ok,” Jay, on the other hand, held an unreadable expression. 
“Hey,” you said back, voice coming in a small layered apprehension that didn’t go unnoticed by none of them.
Jay was fighting his inner demons not to cringe after watching you and Jake walking together, side by side like a normal couple, but it was hard when he knew how his friend regularly acted with girls he hooked-up with, how he loved to have a one night type of thing, never really committing. 
You deserved more than just a fleeting pleasant moment. 
They spent a life together as something similar to brothers long enough for Jay to be aware of the consequences of that relationship, the thoughts of you being hurt triggering the worst side of his protectiveness. And to think he would lose his best, closest friend because of that stupidity increased his emotions negatively – he felt betrayed, somehow picturing you both as selfishes who didn’t care about his side in the story.
Jay simply nodded at you both without saying a word, eyes flickering quickly towards your and Jake’s intertwined fingers, taking notice of it. You followed the motion and gulped, unconsciously squeezing your boyfriend’s hand. Jay then drifted his gaze to his friends, a dry laugh escaping his lips.
“Looks like lying to me has become everyone’s favorite pastime lately, hasn’t it?” 
“Come on, bro,” Heeseung shot back swiftly, not tolerating the way he changed behavior after you and Jake joined them. “You’re the one being an ass.”
“Am I?” Jay scoffed and pointed to himself, eyebrows raised skeptically. “I’m not the one fucking my best friend’s sister.”
The tension lingered in the air thickly, the silence immediate and edging the unbearable. You tried to ignore the people around you starting to take notice of the unfolding conversation between your brother and your friends. After all, the tension seemed to be rising and they were growing curious with the subject – your relationship.
Sunghoon was the first to notice the situation and your discomfort, especially as you quietly – and unconsciously – scooched to slightly hide behind Jake as a way to shield yourself from whatever could be thrown at you. At the same time, a spark of anger stirred in the depths of your soul, the same one you struggled to shove back down in order to protect your loved one’s from your possible explosion.
“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Sunghoon muttered and headed to finally make the check-in, the rest of you following him, each carrying their respectives luggages – Jake and you sharing just one that he insisted on holding, but you barely had time to proper acknowledged how hot he looked as he did so. 
The path to the rooms was silent, the tension thickening as all of you stepped into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with one another. Jake noticed your mad grimace – pursed lips, mildly furrowed brows – and positioned himself in front of you, facing you in order to shield any lingering stares Jay might dare to throw your way and to distract you with his puppy eyes that showered you with genuine affection. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, grounding you a little, even stealing you a small smile.
After going through a lot during your life with your parents, you had developed an explosive, even destructive, behavior that you struggled to restrain sometimes. It had become second nature to quietly bottle up every single detail of a stressful situation, letting it all pile up until the dam finally burst, and you ended up hurting the people you cared for.
You were terrified of losing it with Jay and consequently splattering on Jake and destabilizing the amazing, reliable relationship you just got in. That fear was precisely why you had been trying to act more reserved, more withdrawn. But Jay wasn’t making it easy for you – not even a little.
Not when he rolled his eyes in the childish way possible as he realized you and Jake were exchanging affection. Not when he was acting like an angry teenager that would prefer to ignore the problem instead of facing it. 
And that was why after leaving the elevator and before you could stop yourself, you let go of Jake’s hand, seizing the moment now that you were somewhere more private. It was still just the hotel corridor, but at least it wasn’t out in public. You turned to Jay and blurted it out.
“Why the fuck are you so mad for?” 
It was clear that Jay was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t care less. The tension in the air was thick as everyone froze in their tracks. Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do next. Jay’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker as his eyes narrowed at you.
“Y/N, babe, wait–” Jake’s voice was soft, trying to calm you down, but the storm inside you was already raging. He moved to step closer, his hand hovering over your arm, but you pulled away, brushing him off.
“No,” you cut him off as sweetly as possible, raising a hand to stop him. You turned back to face your brother, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “So far, you’ve said whatever came to your mind, now it’s my turn.” 
Your voice dropped to a dangerous low, thick with underlying fury, no one daring to say a word.
“I really don’t get why you’re so mad about me being happy. You always talked about how much you wanted me to find the happiness I deserve, but now that I have it, you act like a damn child!”
Jay’s features sharpened as he clenched his jaw, eyes piercing through you. However, he kept his tone calm, he didn’t raise his voice, never. Not at you.
“Jake is not the happiness you deserve.”
“Woah, hold on…” Jake tilted his head, visibly stunned by Jay’s attack. He looked between you and Jay, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation. His brows furrowed in confusion, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Why are you saying this?”
You tried to ignore Jake for a while, really tried. But it was extremely difficult as you took notice of his hurted tone, which triggered even harder your ongoing feelings.
“How the hell do you know that? How can you even say that if you’re not the one in a relationship with him?” Your voice was louder now, sharp, and you felt the heat rise in your chest. Your eyes burned, threatening to spill over with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.
Jay hesitated for a second, his eyes shifting as if measuring his words carefully, but the frustration in his eyes was evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice quieter now but no less intense.
“I know Jake. I’ve known him long enough to know he could just… leave you.” The words were like a knife, and you flinched.
“I would never–” Jake immediately protested, stepping forward once again, but Jay ignored him, continuing.
“And I don’t want to see my sister get her heart broken by my best friend,” Jay’s voice cracked slightly at the last part, as if he himself didn’t want to believe the possibility, but the fear still lingered in his words.
“Jay–” You started just for him to cut you off, the urgency in his voice building.
“Did you ever even think about my feelings in all of this before it happened?” His eyes were wide now, almost pleading. “No, you didn’t. And now you’re dragging me into something I never asked for.”
“No–” you shot back, voice rising, but before you could say more, Jay’s words came thickly again.
“Did you ever stop to think about what I’d have to deal with the outcome of this shit? To lose my best friend and see my sister broken because of some stupid choice.”
His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tense. The more he spoke, the more his control slipped, and you could see the anger building in him, mixed with a deep sense of hurt.
You took a deep breath, like a gasp, holding it in for a moment, before speaking slowly, your voice softening just a little. You were finally walking beside Jay’s line of thought. So that was the reason?
“And why would that be the only possible outcome? Why do you doubt Jake so much?” You paused, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “He’s sweet. Always so, so sweet and gentle. He cares for me. He loves me, and I love him too.”
As you spoke about Jake, the walls around you lowered just enough to let the raw honesty out. You felt his presence close at your back, his hands resting on your waist lovingly, managing to somewhat anchor you – your heart fluttered, your nerves soothing ever so slightly.
For a split second, you saw Jay’s expression falter. He wasn’t ready for your vulnerability nor your genuine feelings to come out. You could see it in his eyes – the battle between his protectiveness and the fleeting need to understand your and your point of view.
“I did think about you when I accepted Jake’s dating proposal,” you continued, voice growing quieter, but firm. “And I was scared you’d react exactly like this.”
Jay’s mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but the words died on his tongue. For the first time, you saw him hesitate, truly unsure of what to say next. 
His eyes flickered towards Jake, who held an expectant, yet determined expression. He knew Jake wasn’t going to give up so easily, and it was impossible not to see you actually liked, loved each other. WJake positioned himself behind you, close, protective, and somehow loosed Jay’s demeanor, the weight on his shoulders dropping, maybe for realizing his best friend could give you the protection and the love you deserved – the one he was in charge of until now. 
Jay struggled to gulp down his stubbornness; it was his most characteristic feature. However, on the other side of the argument was you, the little sister – now a woman – he cared for and would move mountains for if necessary. 
Would Jake be able to do the same?
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, quiet, eyes lowering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment. 
You couldn’t hold back your surprised face, not when you expected the conversation to unfold in many possibilities where you would gladly, relentlessly counter each and every argument until you overtired him with your own stubbornness. 
“I– I was stupid. I only thought about myself, and… I mean, you seemed so happy before I found out about you two. I guess that was… because of you, Jake.”
The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stepped closer to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. He didn’t hesitate to return it, pulling you firmly against his chest.
“I really care about you, kiddo,” he murmured softly into your hair, his voice tinged with both regret and affection.
You let out a small, breathy laugh, sniffing as you tried to compose yourself. “I know,” you replied, pulling back slightly to look at him. “And I’m glad you do. But now…”
Turning your head, you glanced at Jake over your shoulder – a genuine smile curved his plump lips, radiating relief and happiness. His eyes shone with pure joy, watching the two people he cherished most finally reconcile. For the first time in a while, he looked truly content and not laced with condren.
“I have him caring about me too.”
Jake took the moment to approach you both, intertwining his fingers with yours as you stepped away from your brother. He brought your hand to kiss the back of it sweetly before voicing out. 
“I’ll make her really happy.”
“You better do,” Jay nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “Just don't… screw this over, Jake. I'm serious,” the subtle change in his tone got you rolling your eyes playfully. 
“I won't,” Jake promptly shot back.
“If you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down to hell to kill you,” Jay added within a warning voice and Sunghoon, who had been silently observing the exchange, burst out laughing.
“I second that, by the way,” Heeseung chimed in with a smirk and shrugged. 
“No need to worry. If I ever break her heart, I'll kill mys–”
“Shut up.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, your smile not faltering a bit as the rush of euphoria started to run in your veins.
Jay groaned, shooting the two of you a disgusted look before rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the stress. It was clear he was struggling to get along with the bitter realization: his little sister, the one he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect, was now sharing intimate affection with his best friend – the very same best friend he knew far too much about, including his past escapades with commitment and… other things.
“And for the love of God,” Jay added with an exasperated sigh. “Do not… Do anything under my roof.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake quipped with a grin, earning another groan from Jay.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter, contentment filling your heart in the most endearing way. Things have been settled in the best way possible.
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"Now that we have a room to ourselves…" Jake murmured with a mischievous smirk, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you’ve aced your physics exam…" His breath was warm against your skin, teasing the back of your ear. “And everything is set fine again…”
"And my brother is not overreacting just because I’m sucking your dick…" You couldn’t help but say it out loud within a smirk, relieved.
Jake’s eyes widened in shock, then he gasped, his hands tightening around you to pull you even closer. He laughed.
"That’s... one way of saying it, yeah." He squinted playfully, a smirk still tugging at his lips, the same lips that now pressed soft kisses on your sensitive skin, making you squirm a bit within an unfading smile dancing on your lips. You were really happy. "I’ll take it."
The following atmosphere was full of warmth and ease and for a moment you just stayed there, in the quiet calm of Jake’s arms, enjoying the simple reality of being together, just a quiet love that felt endless.
It took just a second for you to feel something poking you from behind. You hummed.
“Now I understand why you were so excited to get to our room, baby,” you purred, leaning back onto his chest and swinging your hips a little, just to friction Jake’s growing boner. His answer was immediate; a soft moan traveling its way to your ear.
“What?” He feigned innocence, pulling you closer and helping you to move your ass straight on his hardening, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Quit the act, pretty boy,” you scoffed playfully as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You're not fooling anyone.”
You met Jake with hooded eyes that locked with your lips for a while before going back up to glaze your orbs, his tempting tongue wetting those beautiful lips you loved to kiss and feel on your skin before he turned you to fully face him, his hands on your hips firm, steady as he pushed you slightly behind until you felt the back of your knees meeting the soft end of the bed. 
In any moment you broke eye contact, nor words were being said while the atmosphere shifted under the soothing realization you could be completely free – with your noises, with your needs, with your relationship. 
You smiled, pulling Jake by his shirt so he could fall on the mattress with you; his lips searched for yours immediately, crashing together into a delightful dance of tongues and mouths, starving each other with a longing of years. You would never get enough of your boyfriend and it felt so good to know the feeling was mutual.
His hands wandered to where you craved his touch most; Jake had become an expert at reading your body, knowing exactly what made you shiver with delight, what brought you to that edge of the pleasant bliss you loved navigating together. But there was a specific subject unspokenly lingering in the air that made him try to move back and bring it to words. 
“You promised me something,” Jake mumbled against your mouth, but you didn’t give much care as you moved further up on the bed, your hands clutching on his neck to pull him with you, lips never parting. “Babe, your pussy–”
You smirked and teasingly shut him up with another torrid kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, eliciting a groan that made your cunt pulse and clench around nothing. The grip on your hips tightened and Jake finally parted the kiss, panting a little, his eyes gleaming with lust.
“Babe, you promised,” Jake protested with a whining voice and you couldn’t hold back your laughter, your eyes loaded with love, affection and burning desire drinking from his already messy features.
Jake’s hair was disheveled, a courtesy of your hands that would always tangle it, tugging and playing not only due to its silkiness, but mostly because Jake would moan beautifully into your mouth whenever you pulled a bit stronger, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. 
He had a sweet voice, and his noises sounded even sweeter; as crazy as it sounds, sometimes you wished to sip Jake until he was empty.  
“You’re so cute when you’re asking for my pussy, baby. How do you manage to do that?”
Jake leaned into the touch of your hand cupping his face gently, caressing his reddened and parted lips. His cheeks had a faint flush, half-opened eyes showering you with expectation, dilated pupils pleading, flickering slowly through your face.
“Please, I really need it,” Jake sounded urgent, his breath hitching as he pressed you on the bed with his body weight.
He was quick to dodge your attempt to kiss him again, taunting the wicked game you were building. His tongue traced the curve of your neck, and his lips followed with deliberate, tantalizing kisses – a striking contrast to his current raw desperate state. “Please…” he murmured, the plea thick with longing.
He was trying to nudge you out of your deviousness using your weakness, however, he wasn’t faking at all. Jake was genuinely desperate. “Oh? So it’s a need now? Not just a want?” You teased, your voice dripping with mischief as your eyes fluttered closed.
A sigh followed by a moan escaped you, your body instinctively arching forward as a wave of contentment rippled through your core. Yet Jake kept you firmly in place, pressing you into the mattress with precision, his grip restraining your movements just enough to leave you yearning for more.
“I need and I want, please…” He whispered against your earlobe before nibbling it; you felt his hand sneaking into your shirt nearly at the same time, his fingertips softly brushing your side, making you contract your stomach and try to squirm, but again, Jake was holding you strongly against the bed. “Mhm? Please?” He begged once more within a small, weak breath.
Being so close to your boyfriend always made you thrilled and also loosened. He presented you with the possibility of being yourself freely, a safe haven you didn’t know you needed. The trust you had with Jake was beyond imagination, it was with your entire being among every possible nuance of the wording; there was something about how he managed to always spark an interest of an ongoing desire that fueled your will to keep him near, physically and emotionally.
So when he offered you the prettiest hooded eyes, glistening with the plea he showed through every pore of his, you couldn’t really control the thrum of your heartbeat echoing louder and louder in your eardrums, nor your breath catching in your throat as you felt yourself swoon under Jake’s intense and eager gaze, the need of something he never actually had a taste burning in those pretty two brown orbs. 
Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, after all you admittedly – not out loud – longed to feel Jake’s head buried between your legs as much as him. Just with how he managed to kiss you, mouth and tongue working precisely, skilfully on yours had your toes curling, yearning to feel all of that on your cunt. 
“Don’t go quiet on me,” Jake murmured with a pout, one that vanished in seconds as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not when I wanna hear you screaming my name,” he quietly softened the weight of his body onto yours, giving you the room to move. Your legs instinctively opened. Jake noticed. “Just give me the word, baby.”
Your eyes fluttered close when you felt Jake lowering his kisses to your clavicle and so on, a moan slipping out of your mouth when he twirled his tongue on your hardened still covered nipple, sucking and motioning something you were sure he would be doing in your clit in a few. You just needed to… Allow it. 
“Give me the word and I’ll make you feel so good…” He whispered. Once more, you felt yourself pulsing, your panties with a pool of arousal at that point. “Mhm? Please? You deserve to feel good, baby.”
He glanced up at you, giving you more of what you would experience after you said yes; the eyes looking up, the mouth deliberately and masterfully doing its job of pleasuring you, the hands holding you still.
Your whole body ignited with fervent flames, bursting with desire and an anxious longing to feel everything Jake had silently promised you until that moment. Driven by the maddening need to have him, you finally spoke, with a voice you couldn’t quite properly find as you lost yourself in your imagination.
“Yes, Jake. You can eat me out.”
Jake let out a small groan of contentment, his smile wide and radiant as he positioned himself in between your parted legs and began to remove your jeans with your help. 
“That’s how I like it,” he murmured, biting his lip to hold back the surge of excitement and impatience building inside him. But the hunger to taste your pussy of you had been building for far too long to slow down now. “Good girl.”
There was no doubt Jake would make you feel good, nevertheless you found yourself unable to untense completely under the hot touches he was leaving in your skin as he undressed your bottoms; you felt awkward, especially because it was the official first time Jake was seeing you in such a position. He had fingered you and fucked you countless times, but it was the first time his face got that close to your cunt and you started to worry. To disappoint him after you had so carefully nurtured his hopes with that fleeting promise seemed unbearable.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands grabbing the sheets underneath you as you breathed heavy. Jake noticed your change of demeanor right away and soothed your skin kindly with his palms.  
“Relax, my love. Why are you so tense, mhm?” The question was followed by a tender kiss on your knee and a gentle caress on your other leg. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know, honestly,” you chuckled nervously, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes that were trying to read your anxious expression. You were being serious about your lack of knowledge of what exactly triggered your sudden reaction. “I’m afraid of disappointing you, I guess. Does that make sense?”
“No,” Jake was quick to shoot back, a sigh of admiration slipping from his plush lips for finally seeing your cunt revealed before his hungry eyes. Beautiful, he could feel his mouth watering. “You can’t disappoint me, sweet girl.”
“What if I cum too fast?” You asked without giving time to Jake to answer, and he skeptically quirked a brow at you. Did he hear it right? “What if I taste bad? What if you don’t like the feel of it? Or the look of it? What if my smell isn’t that good? What if–” 
You fell silent as you felt Jake’s warm muscle licking your folds, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your heated body, legs trying to close instinctively and your eyes growing wide as you realized he just… Went for it. And he was good.
Just after the long lick, Jake sucked your clit and groaned, as if the pleasure was his, not only yours. He didn’t part the connection, though, continuing to play with your clit and your pussy in random patterns using his tongue and lips, as if he was studying which one you enjoyed the most by the way your moans sounded. 
“J–Jak–Mhm…” A soft murmur mingled with a whimper interrupted whatever you were about to say – and you couldn’t even remember as you drifted your gaze down to catch the sight of Jake’s furrowed brows, deep in concentration and desire as he lost himself in you. 
You brushed away the hair sticking on his lightly sweaty forehead, watching how delighted he seemed to be eating you out; you heard the lewd sounds of slurping and soft smacks imitating a kiss and you deduced he was simply making out with your pussy.
As regular as it was, your fingers tangled into his brown locks, this time urging him closer, pulling him down to you as the longing for more consumed your chest. 
Jake was drunk – and loving each second. Mind blurry, only your pussy and the sweet scent and taste of it occupying the haze inside his brain as he got motivated by the pretty noises you allowed to escape your lips.
He dived into you with fervor, with love. God, he dreamed for too long to waste time with foreplays or whatever, especially when you were that wet already. He could die in between your legs and he would thank you for that. 
The way your breath hitched when he went a bit further and tested to poke your pulsing hole with the tip of his tongue got his eyes glancing up to catch your contorted expression, mouth agape, head throwing back into the pillow. He moaned when you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your pussy on his face just how he wanted to. 
“You’re so fucking good,�� you managed to breathe out, your voice shaking between delicate moans.
Jake’s tongue lapped over and over your now dripping pussy, drinking from your juice as if it was his favorite. After cautious inspection, he understood what made you clench shamelessly and was now openly making out with your clit, even so often tongue fucking you within an impressive skill; he also positioned both your legs on his shoulder as way to ease his and your comfort.
The way your body squirmed under his firm grip on your thighs was a feeling Jake wished never to forget, especially how you unconsciously tried to press your legs together, as if it could shield you from the intensity of his touch, though you knew deep down it was futile. 
Jake was addicted to every aspect about you. If he allowed himself a moment of reflection, he might feel a flicker of embarrassment over just how intensely you got him wrapped around your finger.
Your smiles, paired with your playful banter, sent a whirlwind of emotions through his chest, a constant reminder of how effortlessly you matched his provocations with your own sharp wit. Your determination, laced with a stubborn edge, stirred a deep sense of pride within him, filling his heart with admiration for your strength. And your body… it was a masterpiece in his eyes. Every curve, every line felt tailor-made for his hands, his touch, his need to hold you close and never let go.
And now you had permitted him to taste the part he cherished the most in terms of sex. 
Jake didn’t care about how cringe, loser-like or shameful could sound to others, but eating girls out was everything he needed to feel fulfilled when in bed, and now, if the said girl was you, his perfect girlfriend…
“I love you so much,” you heard Jake mumble against your cunt, the slurred words vibrating against your clit brought you back from the lustful fog your mind drew into only to send you back again, a journey you would gladly revisit again whenever possible.
The knot on your lower stomach tightening had your toes curling as you tugged Jake’s hair harder, eliciting a soft moan out of his mouth that got lost in between your wet arousal.
“Mhm, F–Fuck Jake– I’m–”
“Close?” He murmured, though he didn’t expect you to answer. 
Jake was way lost into his own pleasure of satisfying you to think of anything other than your release coating his tongue, and he started to shamelessly, yet slowly rut his hip against the bed as your moans increased, your legs around his shoulder pressing tighter.
“I wan’ you to come all over my face and mouth, doll.” 
The blend of his words and how he started to shake his head to rub the tip of his nose on your clit while lapping your clenching hole got you screaming his name, the waves of shock running through your body within trembles as you had your orgasm. Whimpers and cries would be everything filling the room if it wasn't from Jake slurping noises getting constant with him swallowing every single drop of your climax, driving you through your high.
His big hands held you steady as he finished the job of cleaning you with his tongue, your sensitive bundle of nerves getting brief brushes that got you squirming. Jake then placed a sweet kiss on your clit, diverging from the intensity of the touches seconds ago before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and shaky, but utterly satisfied, with a dumb smile gracing your lips.
Your hooded eyes blinked slowly, tiredly as you panted for air, your whole body relaxed as if you were on the clouds. However, you captured the view of Jake undressing himself even with your slightly blurred vision; his chin and his nose were glistening with his spit and your cum, and when you finally noticed the hardened bulge hidden behind his underwear, you gulped, feeling your body heating up again before that pretty, lascivious sight.
Opposite to what you thought, Jake propped himself near to you, out of the bed still, with a cute smile, endearingly watching you regaining your senses. You didn’t catch the flicker of mischief the puppy eyes showed briefly, though.
“Babe, how about we take a shower, mhm?,” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. With a gentle stroke on your hair, he added. “I think we have a bathtub here, we can take a bath.”
A smirk danced on the corner of your lips as you sat with Jake’s help, your fingers tracing the shape of his covered dick. “But what about you, pretty boy?” 
You watched Jake biting his lip, a habit you loved that made both your heart flutter and your cunt pulse. You were getting worked up again. 
“We can take care of it there, can’t we?” 
His gaze darkened out of the softness he was offering you when you nodded, pulling you to stand up and removing your shirt. Jake’s eyes lingered a bit longer on your now exposed breasts and you felt shy under the intensity of it, so you just leaned forward to cut the staring with a kiss. 
The same kiss that had Jake holding you by the waist and you finding support on his shoulders. The same kiss that Jake used to quietly guide you towards the bathroom. The same kiss that left you breathless as you parted away with a content smile followed by a chuckle because Jake’s fingertips brushed your ribs in a teasing way. 
“Oh, we have to fill it up, though…” You pouted when noticing that the said bathtub was completely empty. 
Once again, you failed to realize Jake had a secret plan by the way his eyes twinkled with wicked intentions, especially because he positioned himself behind you.
“Babe…” His voice dropped an octave when he murmured against your ear, the feeling of his hot body pressing on your back together with his covered cock frictioning against your bare ass got your pussy starting to be wet again. 
“Mhm?” You answered softly, hands covering Jake’s that were now on your boobs, softly massaging 
“Do you trust me?”
The question was simple, the answer even simpler. And yet you found yourself hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty threatening to spark – a fleeting fear of what might unfold. But then, you remembered: it was Jake. Your Jake. The man who had dived headfirst into all your wildest adventures without hesitation, who would never dream of hurting you.
The man of your life.
“Of course I do.”
“Good,” he chuckled softly, a hint of mischief lighting his gaze as he pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, only to strip off the last piece of clothing separating him from you.
You turned on your heels, confused, aiming to ask what the hell was going on, but your eyes dropped to Jake’s big, stiff cock, the tip reddened, glistening with leaking precum in a way that got your knees weak.
“You’re hard,” you breathed out, pointing out the obvious and feeling your body working on automatic as you approached with your hands already moving further closer his length. “And hot. I’d suck you off–”
Jake shushed you with a quick peck, his lips being graced by a small smile. “Shh, come with me.”
He approached the bathtub, opening the water register to fill just the bottom of it before he settled on one of the ends and tapped his lap, urging you to join him.
“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, a grin growing on your lips as you made your way to your boyfriend, doing as he instructed you so. “What are we doing?”
Your curiosity was driving you wild, yet there was something thrilling in the way Jake sometimes took control of the situation, keeping details scarce and letting slowly you discover things as they got revealed.
Sharing moments with Jake was a treasured part of your life, and you longed to create more special and unique memories with the one you had vowed to love for a lifetime – through every shade and possibilities.
So when he placed you on his lap, facing forward, something similar to as if you were about to ride him, you did nothing to control the excitement fluttering in your chest. Before you said any other word, Jake’s cheeks flustered with a cute tone of crimson and you furrowed your brows, a confused-amused chuckle escaping your lips because you literally had no idea of what was going on.
“Please, ignore what I’m gonna say, because it’s a fucking turn off…” Jake said with a small voice, his whole face contorted into an embarrassed expression as he tightened the grip on your hips.
“Okay…” As unsure as you sounded, still you held your expectations high. The worst that would happen was Jake making you laugh with his goofy ideas and jokes.
“You know that we calculate the velocity of some things in physics, right? Like fluids, and stuff…” You nodded along, not really getting the line of thought, but still allowing him to finish. “I was wondering… Mhm–” He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours precisely. You were already giggling, hands caressing his nape.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to calculate the velocity of your squirt on my dick?”
Though Jake immediately reacted by breaking into a shy laughter and hiding himself cringing on the crook of your neck, you, on the other hand, had to stifle the shocking scoff that caught in your throat upon hearing his filthy, straightforward request, your expression shifting from teasing humored to stunned disbelief. And you felt your pussy clenching right after, because Jake had that fucking effect on you, no matter what. 
“I won’t lie… I was so ready to laugh,” you admitted, voice soft and edged with a dryness that had you swallowing hard, trying to hold the thrill bubbling low in your core.
Your hips rolled ever so slightly, a teasing motion that grazed against Jake’s aching hardness, drawing a guttural groan from him. Your hand held the back of his head, caressing his hair, while the other wandered over his biceps. 
“But, damn, I’m so turned on right now.”
“Thank God you’re perfect.” 
It was the last thing Jake said in between a relieved giggle before kissing your neck and skillfuly maneuvering your body with your help so his aching cock could finally meet the warm embrace of your walls. 
A shaky shared moan echoed through the hollow bathroom walls, your head falling back, your lips parted with a small delighted smile adorning it. Jake bit your neck to muffle his following groan when he finally got himself completely inside of you; he had been hard for so long, ever since he started to think about getting lost in the taste of your pussy, craving some sexual release that only your cunt embracing his length would give him.
“So fucking tight–” He whispered against the slightly bruised skin of your neck, voice cracking at the end when you rolled your hips in a silent plea.
Without a moment of hesitation, Jake lifted you effortlessly by your hips, only to pull you back down with a steady force, guiding you with a rhythmic precision. Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, providing the support you needed to move with him, as you both found your pace.
“Kiss–” you breathed, a soft whimper escaping your lips, just as Jake hit a spot that made you tremble. “Kiss me, Jakey–” 
As a natural command, Jake drifted his lips towards yours, his tongue licked your bottom one before sucking it and diving into a passionate, messy kiss, the movements never halting as you drowned into the pool of arousal and lust your boyfriend provided; you could feel Jake everywhere and it was amazing.
He pounded into your g-spot with ease, eliciting the loudest noises from the back of your throat, shamelessly. His hands roamed your ass to squeeze it while guiding your body up and down, the mild slapping sounds ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody. 
“You make me go insane,” Jake whispered, his eyes fluttering close as the euphoria of feeling you that close drifted his senses into an overwhelming experience. 
He felt a faint grin appearing on your lips before you shot back. “And– And do you like it?”
Jake chuckled lightly, a lingering smile following his answer. “I love it.”
Since you had one orgasm already, you felt your next one coming faster than expected, so when you started to involuntarily clench more, together with your whimpers of Jake’s name and curses amplified louder, Jake took a close notice to start rubbing circles on your clit with one hand, wishing you could keep on holding the position practically by yourself for a bit longer – he wanted you to do a bit more than cumming, after all.
“Close… ‘M close–” You whined, body jolting forward and your head falling back once more, the grip from your arms on Jake’s shoulders tightening as you partially hugged him. 
Jake drank in the sight of you rolling your eyes close and your hips uncontrollably grinding and bouncing and doing whatever would make you achieve your climax – so fucking beautiful. It made his dick throb in despair for the same release, but he wanted so bad to feel you squirting on him. So he gathered strength from the depths of his self-control not to cum, even after you creamed his shaft with your warm liquid. Even after your squeeze grew unbearably good.
“Fuck, babe…” 
“Jak– Jake– Sensitive,” you whispered when Jake didn’t stop drawing circles on your clit, momentarily forgetting he had a different plan as you struggled to squirm away. “Jake, mhm–” 
Jake shook his head as if telling you no, maintaining his dick buried deep into you as he focused solely on your swollen bundle of nerves. If you paid enough attention you would feel his mischievous smile creeping on the corner of his lips grazing on your cheek.
With your eyes fluttering open to try and look at your boyfriend, the overestimation teetered the edge of madness; overwhelming at it most, you whined pleas of despair for Jake to stop, though you didn’t actually want him to.
Jake groaned when your nails scratched his back, your whole body trembling, shaking to escape the painful, yet delicious feeling of Jake driving you faster towards an inexperienced field for you.
You never actually squirted, but as soon as you reminded yourself that it was Jake's desire, you wished to give it to him as much as you wanted for yourself. Pleasuring Jake would always pleasure you as well.
“It’s gonna feel so good, doll,” Jake cooed, holding you closer, keeping you steady. “Hang in there, just a little, yeah?”
“Can’t–” You shook your head, feeling a weird feeling creeping inside you. “Can’t Jakey–”
“Yes you can,” his voice was low, soft even, though breathless. Jake was trying his best to navigate you precisely to where he wanted you to arrive. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Mhm– Fuck, Jake–” You screamed his name. “Yes, ’m yours. All yours.”
The excruciating pressure on your core felt like a glazing fire, scorching every inch of you as if it were igniting something deep inside, something new, strange. It was a fiery ache, relentless and consuming, making it almost impossible to think of anything but the heat that pulsed through you, demanding attention. The sensation grew more intense with every movement, every touch, every deliberate open-mouth kiss Jake deposited on your neck. You couldn’t decide if you wanted it to stop or if you wanted it to go on forever. 
“It’s burning– Jake–” You sounded urgent, not exactly knowing why.  
“Let it go, doll,” Jake murmured on your earlobe. “For me, yeah?”
And so you did, moaning, exclaiming Jake’s name like a mantra, like he was the only thing carved into your soul, the only thing crossing your mind. You felt like Jake entered you completely as a flush of fluids squirted from your pulsing, abused cunt.
At the same time, Jake had his own body trembling, his abs tensing as he came undone; not even a movement, not even a roll of hips, just the indescribable feeling of your juices flowing freely down his length and your walls clenching got him filling you to the brim with his release.
A wave of soft moans slipped from your lips, each one rising like a gentle hiss. Your mind was blank. Your body, numb. You felt everything and nothing at the same time. At some point you questioned if you had died – and if you did, it would be an amazing death.
But then Jake’s honeyed, broken voice brought you back from your trance. 
“I’m still coming,” and he so fucking was; it was a different feeling from the other times, if you forced yourself to think coherently, you would realize Jake had never come that hard. 
“I’m weird,” you mumbled, body softening against your boyfriend’s strong grip. He held you steady in his arms, supporting you with care. “Can’t feel my legs… Or my body…”
You heard Jake laughing a little in between pants, his noises sounding distant while your eyes began to slowly close, your body relaxing into that blur of tiredness that took over in seconds.
“I’ve got you, my love.” Jake kissed your cheek. “You did amazing. Thank you.”
With tender touches and gentle caresses, Jake cleaned both of you, making sure you were comfortable and not getting any type of extra stimulation as he did so. Through soft murmurs of reassuring words, he praised your work and thanked you for allowing him to pleasure you. As he always did.
Jake loved you with genuine affection. It never felt forced, nor did it ever seem like something he had to prove. It was simply there, effortless, constant, and profound. His love lived in the smallest gestures and the proudest compliments he would gush about, and you couldn’t feel more grateful for living in a relationship where the caring was mutual, because you cherished Jake just as much. 
You were finally at peace, in a comfortable relationship with Jake, knowing there would be no more lies between you and your brother. It was soothing to be able to sink into the warm embrace of your boyfriend without worrying about interruptions, or how quickly you would have to throw on clothes and present yourself as presentable as possible, hiding the remnants of your burning passion behind fake smiles and lame excuses.
Jake had a scent of home, of love. And it felt so, so good to love him without restraint, to kiss him without fear, to feel a sense of completeness as he fit perfectly in a special place in your chest.
“Y’know, I was just thinking…”
Jake’s voice filled the quietness of the room. He had put you in a comfortable set of clothes and laid on the bed with you, your body curled cozily against his chest, his soft heartbeats soothing your senses.
“We complement each other pretty well.”
“How so?”
Your ask came as silent as his. Jake caught himself thinking deeply, snuggling you closer as he did so. 
“Mhm… I lean towards physics and you’re into art,” you nodded along, casually drawing random shapes on his bare torso. 
The softness of his tone vibrated through his chest like a sweet lullaby. You sighed. 
“I feel like you’re more rational than I am… You’re always so, so determined and adorably stubborn until you get what you want… And I’m kinda lazy, not gonna lie.” 
“That’s true,” you smirked, raising your head briefly just to shoot a teasing glance. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you nestled back against him.
“We always find a way to please each other, in every sense,” he continued and you couldn’t help the warm flushing from your neck to your face, shyly shifting to hide yourself on his neck. Jake giggled, caressing your back. “And I always feel complete when I’m with you.”
Pulling back slightly, you searched those two mesmerizing eyes, brimming with tenderness and care. With love. Jake was a beautiful masterpiece, worthy of endless admiration you would willingly give, because you loved him just as much. 
“I agree,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. “We’re like pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.”
“Exactly,” Jake breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed as tranquility washed over him after you pressed a tender kiss on his lips just to get cozy again against his torso. “We’re complementary, babe.”
BONUS SCENE
"Well, well… If it isn’t the cutest couple..." Sunghoon greeted you both with a teasing tone as you approached the table.
The weekend trip was nearing its end, and that was the last meal the five of you would share at the hotel. It was a simple yet cozy dinner, the kind that felt more meaningful because of the company. A table set with exactly five seats, ready to accommodate all of you.
Jake responded to Sunghoon’s comment with a playful smack to the back of his neck before you both took your seats; Heeseung settled on your right, Sunghoon next to Jake, and Jay directly across from you.
“The cutest and the freakiest, too. Jesus Christ.” Heeseung muttered just loud enough for you and Jake to hear. Instinctively, your eyes darted up to catch the displeased scowl on your brother’s face. “Please, never put me next to their room again.”
“The choice was either you or Jay, so…” Sunghoon shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, though it didn’t stop Heeseung from glaring at him.
“And you weren’t an option?”
“Of course not. My trip, my rules. You should be grateful I even got you a solo room.”
“Oh, right, because between hearing Y/N scream Jake’s name and–”
“For God’s sake, dude,” Jake interrupted immediately, his voice sharp but laced with embarrassment.
Your cheeks burned fiercely as you sank into your chair, crawling Jake’s arm as if your life depended on it, trying desperately to avoid looking at Jay – or anyone else. But from the corner of your eye, you caught him massaging his temples with one hand, the other lifting his glass of wine to his lips as if he needed a moment away from the conversation.
“Am I wrong, though?” Heeseung arched an eyebrow and looked directly at you, who were now sipping your drink, still curled against Jake who held you by your shoulder. “I bet you were having a good time in the bathroom.”
Jake couldn’t suppress the sudden snort of laughter that escaped him when seeing you and Jay choking, each with your own drinks, together. On the other hand, Sunghoon shamelessly burst into a loud, noisy laugh, clapping his hands and throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.
“Oh, man, this is gold,” he managed to say, eyes flickering in between your mortified expression and Jay’s mad grimace.
You coughed into your napkin, one that Jake handed to you gently, holding back his own wanting to laugh at it too, your cheeks blazing hot. 
“Heeseung, I swear to God, if you–”
“Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell about how hard–”
“Ok. Shut up, dude,” Jake interrupted sharply again, though his voice carried a mix of amusement and shyness. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm, anchoring you away from their teasing.
Jay, however, wasn’t laughing. Not at all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression tense as he shot Heeseung a glare that could cut through steel.
“Some of us don’t need a visualization of whatever happened in that room. Thank you.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, which shone with amusement, matching perfectly with his playful grin.
“Come on, Jay. It’s all in good fun,” Heeseung replied, waving off the tension with a careless flick of his hand. “We all know they’re just very passionate. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, God.” You groaned, burying our face in your hands, feeling Jake giggling by the way his body trembled against yours. “I hate all of you. So much.”
The mortification flooded your senses, an urge to run away from their playful banter because you didn’t know where else to hide. However, the same subject being treated with jokes and laughter eased your fear of Jay turning back on his decision of supporting you and Jake.
“Even me?” Your boyfriend asked, kindly grabbing your chin to lean your head upwards to face him. He had a feigned pouty expression, one that elicited a giggle from you right away.
You shook your head. “No, baby, never you.”
And just at the moment your lips touched Jake’s into a sweet gesture, you heard your brother’s voice.
“Am I that ass of a brother to deserve this level of pain and torture?” Jay muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation.
You and Jake giggled in between the kiss, parting ways as you bit your lip and shot a fake annoyed glance at Jay – comfort now settling your nerves, as you noticed he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Maybe?” You teased, your tone playful as you tilted your head. Jay rolled his eyes, but the small smile dancing on his lips didn’t deny he was starting to accept your relationship.
“Whatever, kiddo.”
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taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @taeminsboogers, @4wkjun, @wiccangirl29, @guapgoddees, @manuosorioh, @zkg2318, @m3wkledreamy, @jakeswifeyyy, @love4hee, @missychief1404, @thlrstae, @jaems-left-toe
(the ones in bold text i couldn't tag!)
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I love how people think this was the only problem. Arcane's pillars are the writing, the world building and the animation. In this season, only the animation matched s1's level because everything else couldn't keep up with the quality they set before.
And before anyone comes at me, you can enjoy the show, I'm not telling you to hate it. I actually envy those who managed to enjoy it because I could only notice the fatal flaws, the cartoonish representation of the main characters and the lack of continuity in the plot development.
The writing is ridiculous. I'm not saying it because I want to hate on the show, but because I loved it with all my heart and it disappointed in a way I couldn't even fathom. We lost the most important part of it: the slow, meaningful moments between characters, the ones that helped us see how they felt and what they thought, how their relationships changed and views shifted.
Take Isha and Jinx. We have the before, and we have the after, but where's everything in between? Jinx pushed Isha away at first, then the next scene they're best friends, and I simply can't accept this in a show that is ALL about building connections.
They added random characters that turned out to be completely useless. Was I supposed to feel bad when bad things happened to them? I was like "oh, alright."
But most importantly, they stripped away the conflict between Zaun and Piltover. They inserted a common enemy so that they'd put aside their differences to defeat it (that's also literally the only reason why the Black Rose "makes sense". It's literally used for the bossfight and to set Mel up for the next series, nothing else).
After the fight they're all good. Forgive and forget, right? That's how you make peace with your oppressor, without even having a single fucking conversation, a damn confrontation or something. The power of friendship, the power of "we're all the same, we just want to live and we must stick together to defeat the baddest guys! It doesn't matter that you treated us like shit on your soles for years!!! Now we're all friends and we have a seat in the council!!"
This season is a goddamn joke.
People can rant about the pacing of season 2 all they want, but the fact that they managed to fit a climax this epic and cathartic and painful this seamlessly in a single episode is nothing short of genius.
Like... y'all they really had it all
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demonpiratehuntress · 2 days ago
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clowns
taglist - @kabloswrld
OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader
summary - clowns are terrifying, and your first encounter with one leaves you traumatised. lucky for you, you have a big strong swordsman as a boyfriend.
warnings - CLOWNS (yes they should ALWAYS be a warning and yes Buggy scares me), you and Zoro are/were both pirate hunters
a/n - i count myself lucky i don't have circuses where i live, because if i ever see a clown i will run the other way
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Not only did you not expect to join a pirate crew, but you far from thought your first encounter as a "crew" would be facing your worst nightmare.
The minute you saw the bright red nose and funny make-up, you stiffened. Your eyes went wide and you became unresponsive, like you couldn't hear them talking or feel Zoro's subtle protective touches. You were too focused on the clown in front of you, terrified to your core.
"What's wrong with her?" Buggy noticed your stare, and waved his hand in front of your face. "Can she hear me?"
Zoro growled and put himself between you and the clown pirate, "Eyes on me, Binky." He knew that wasn't the clown's name, but Luffy's mistake would serve him well in getting Buggy's attention off you.
Sure enough, the clown scowled and looked at him, "Buggy! It's not that hard to remember!"
You were relieved that the clown was no longer focusing on you, but just the sight of him was rattling you to your core. While he was distracted, you took it as your opportunity to turn and run.
Now let it be said that you do not run easily from anything. You and Zoro were pirate hunters, or had been until you'd been roped into this, and you had faced some nasty, dangerous threats. You were hardened, and almost nothing shook you.
Except clowns.
Funny how the one thing you steered clear of found you first the moment you aligned yourself with others.
Before you could get far, some of his circus freaks grabbed you and brought you back. The clown was still talking about himself, but chuckled when his goons brought you back into the tent.
"What's wrong, pirate hunter?" He sneered. "Scared?"
"Hey!" Luffy beat Zoro this time, "Leave her alone."
And things went downhill from there.
You were, for some reason, separated from the group. So was Luffy, but that's because Buggy was interrogating him. Nami and Zoro had been escorted somewhere else, leaving you on your own in another side room, panicking and growing more and more nauseous. To make matters worse, Luffy started screaming from wherever he was.
A while later, the clown walked into your room.
Your eyes went wide, and you struggled against the rope holding you to the wooden beam.
"I'm surprised," he spoke, "You have a reputation that made even some of my men nervous. And yet...you can't even look me in the eye." He stopped right in front of you, "Why's that?"
You tried your best to look away, turning your head sideways and finding something else to focus on. You couldn't speak, and you were trembling. Nothing had ever shaken you like this, ever. But clowns for some reason...you couldn't handle them.
"Is it the nose?" He asked mockingly, although he sounded a bit annoyed at the mention of his large appendage again. He forced you to look at him, gripping your chin in his gloved hands. "Hmm?"
"Leave me alone," you managed to get out through gritted teeth.
"Your captain isn't being very cooperative," he ignored your request, "So I have a lot of time to spend here with you."
"Why me?" You tried to glare, but you knew you looked scared. Because you were.
"Fear is a good motivator for telling the truth," he finally let go of your chin, walking around you and sizing you up. "Your friends will be tough to convince, but you...you don't like clowns, right? I'll leave you alone if you tell me where the map is."
"Do your worst," you breathed out, a little shakily, but you were determined not to cave. Not for this idiot.
He growled, and in an instant he was in front of you again, holding a knife to your throat while putting his frightening face right up in yours, "Tell me where it is!"
The sound you let out was something between a squeak and a yelp, fear once again overcoming your body at the clown's proximity. It wasn't so much the knife pressed against your jugular, it was the fact that your worst fear was inches away from you. You clenched your fists, trying to control your shaking, but it didn't work. And he was amused by your terror.
"I'm going to check on your captain," he stepped back, "If he doesn't give me an answer, I'm coming right back here and I promise I'll leave a scar." Then he left, and you could breathe again.
But that's when the tears came.
You didn't really sob, you just stayed there crying silently. Your body trembled, mind numb with fear and shock. His face was burned into your mind, and shutting your eyes only made your panic worse.
That's how Zoro found you, tied up and shaking with glassy eyes.
"What did he do to you?" The swordsman asked when he cut you loose, grabbing and squeezing your arms gently. "(Name), what did he do?"
You just shook your head, unable to speak, and sought his comfort by burying your face in his neck and crying even more. The more you shook, the angrier he got. But he held you for as long as you needed, knowing Nami would be okay with finding Luffy on her own. You were Zoro's priority.
You finally let go a few minutes later, wiping your face, "Let's go help the others."
He nodded, guiding you out the room.
The trauma stuck with you for a few days after the three of you escaped him, evident one night when you woke up sweating and shaking. Zoro was a deep sleeper, but he had a sixth sense reserved just for you, so he was woken up by your outburst.
Zoro wasn't good with words, but he was definitely good at comforting you through actions. He never had to say anything, he just wrapped his strong arms around you and you were slowly soothed. You just had to lean against his chest, enveloped in his arms, and you would slowly calm down. His gentle kisses atop your head also helped, his affection never failing to get your mind off whatever was worrying you.
In Syrup Village, you spotted a poster of the clown pirate and started hyperventilating. Zoro immediately turned you away from it and cupped your cheeks in his hands, making you look at him.
"Hey, focus on me," he told you, "Just me. I'm here. You're fine." He used a gentle, soft tone, one reserved just for you.
You tried to breathe, eyes locked on his face, concentrating on his warm brown ones that held so much concern for you. The eyes that always comforted you with just a look. Slowly your breathing evened out, and Zoro embraced you, this time not caring that you were in public.
"You're okay."
You nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, "Thanks, Zoro."
He just nodded, giving you one last forehead kiss, "If we ever see him again, I'm going to cut him up and throw him in the ocean."
You managed a weak smile, grateful to have such a protective boyfriend. His actions always proved how devoted he was, even if they were a little violent. You wouldn't have it any other way.
"You do that."
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triglycercule · 21 hours ago
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yall who cast reverse animal themes on my horror and dust,,, why we got BUNNY horror and PUPPY dust
ok but on a real note i was DYING drawing this. i cant believe its my first time drawing the 1 of the trio in a maid dress!!!! id like to thank underfella and calvateyla for inspiring me; i wouldn't have graduated from shit art college without you guys ❤️💜 (inspo) (SOMEONE GET THIS DOG OUT OF HERE DUST HAS A FUCKING CHAINED COLLAR???? 💀💀💀)
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i didn't know what to do for the background either so i just added funny photos. HERE. yes its a coincidence the memes are both horror and dust themed i totally didn't plan that
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#killer come get your animals you dumbass#this has GOT to be the cringiest shit ive ever drawn#both of the references had fell in them and im just amused at the difference in between.......#the fell horror's with is SILLY and GOOFY and just not serious at all#and then the fell dust's with is COOL ans EDGY and SUAVE and THE CONTRAST IS CRAZY#isnt it outrageous that all of the trio have been depicted with fell. fell pulls all the classics#i say as i dont even ship kustard (glances away and tucks afterfell into my pocket discreetly)#dont worry horror you wont need to sweat any longer#the next time i draw any of these guys in anything but the outfits i designed is probably 2025#this was so fun actually tho :33 if only drawing a simple doodle didn't take 2 FUCKING HOURS#the ONLY reason you guys dont get more triglycercule art is because it takes TOO FUCKING LONG#the dust werewolf Halloween costume image actually did give me an idea 4 a rant but ill write it l8er#ive been trying to get over my weird little perfectionism thing#i avoid coloring like the plague because my smooth lineart doesnt look good with it#probably bc idk what style i want but colors are inherently messy#i should sometimes just color over the goddamn lineart SMH#anyways thats enough of this for the day. i am going to get back to doing nothing#ACTUALLY today was lowkey productive kinda. idk. i dont remember for some reason#tricule art#only reason killer isnt in this one is because i couldnt remember a time he wore something weird n animal themed#if there was a moment where he wore a fucking furrysuit or something he'd be smack dab in the middle :3#should i even tag this lmao 💀💀💀💀#horror sans#dust sans#murder time trio#utmv#sans au
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yourstrulysylus · 13 hours ago
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Burn the world for you
The room was filled with a thick tension, the air practically crackling with the animosity between them. They had been lovers once, but now they were nothing more than enemies - their love reduced to a distant memory.
Sylus stood across from you, his eyes burning with anger as he spoke. An unexpected visitor trespassed in his house as the thunderstorms being heard across from the windows at night.
“What do you want, my Queen?” He spat out, his voice laced with venom. He was standing in his own study the only place where he would find solace and it was something that he always maintained in his manor since this was the very room where their love began and he felt that it was about to end here as-well.
She pointed her silver revolver at him while his body stiffened with the silent threat of violence in his presence. The audacity to aim a gun at his own home and yet he chuckled as his eyes playfully glinted at the woman that he once loved before him.
She was silent and he didn’t like it - he missed her witty remarks. Their conversations where he feels like the world does not matter but them. Her voice. He would do anything just to have her utter a word disclose her reasons as to why she was here standing before him wearing that beautiful dark maroon strapless dress that shows off her perfect curves and that fine slit of her skirt that reveals a bit of her long leg that’s laced with a black stockings to pair with her high heels after all these years.
Of all things she chose to wear a ravishing dress while attempting to annihilate him. He caught a glimpse of her scent. Oh my love. Her familiar sent shivers down to his spine because he knew how much she knew that was his favorite perfume. Pomegranates and black orchids.
“You really want to go down this path, my lady?” He mocked her knowing that her powers may be an equal to his however not exactly experienced as he was putting it into good use.
She clicked the safety lock off as a response so he pointed his gun at her as well, a flawless aim all it takes is one trigger and it shall be done. The sound breaking the silence of the room he eyes brows frowning at the situation his body tensing as he realizes the gravity of the situation.
“You’re serious,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. “You’re really gonna do it.”
He heard her gasp the sudden surprise on her face giving away the awful feeling that she had at that moment despite the intense situation a part of him was amused by her reaction.
“What’s the matter, my love?” He asked, a small smirk on his face. “Suddenly having second thoughts, aren’t we?”
She used her evol to get closer in a snap now both can feeling each other’s breaths approximately she pointed her gun at his head intensifying her aim. This moment felt like a deja vu - as that lifetime ago he was forcing her to resonate with him desperate for her to remember their life together. Their marriage.
His smirk faded instantly replaced by a sudden surprise and disbelief. He tensed further as she pressed her gun harder at his head the cold metal scraping against his skin.
“You’re insane,” he said, his voice low and dangerous he pointed the gun deeper at her chest where her aether core is - her heart. He was only mirroring her actions.
“They sent me to kill you.” She finally spoke.
His expression hardened, his eyes darkening with anger. Was that really the reason? He could his evol at this very moment to see if she was telling the truth but he loved her too much to doubt her word.
“Ordered to murder me? By who?” He frowned but his voice softened now that she’s standing close before him.
“My father, he knows you’re after his kingdom and then bedded his daughter? You provoked him more than enough times.”
He changed his position he was now standing beside the door of his study by using his own evol while she’s now by his window distancing himself to compose himself once again. He was being hunted and now his love was the chosen one to kill him.
The guns were still aimed at each other the metallic click of the triggers still filled the air. The air in the room was thick with tension, the weight of the situation almost suffocating.
He locked his eyes with her his gaze unwavering and intense. “You’re not pulling that trigger, my love.” He said as a matter of fact tone. “You’re too much of a spoiled precious little kitten to do it.”
Not looking away from his gaze she said,
“Try me.”
Time seemed to slow down as he watched her cock the gun and aim it at herself she pointed it at her own neck where her carotid artery is located a fastest way to take one’s life. His eyes widened with horror a mixture of panic, confusion and shock. He lunged forward and caught her lifeless body his hands trembling as he gently caressed her face. His eyes were filled with despair and misery - he felt like he’s losing his breath at the scene before him.
He gently placed his forehead against hers “No, no, no..” she placed her hand to cup his cheek slightly tasting Sylus’ salty tears on her mouth.
“I’d rather die than kill you.”
His hands continued to cradle her lifeless body as he whispered to you his voice thick with grief and despair.
“You… your foolishness this isn’t what I…” his voice shaking “you’d throw your life away like that just to keep me alive? I could have died with you.”
“Sylus, I love you.” Her eyes closed as she said her final words her hand fell from his cheek. The sight of her still lifeless body was too much for him to bear. It took him a few moments to compose himself still holding her in his arms and vowed to himself that he would burn the world for her.
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Added another chapter, here we goooo ~~
-
Tim stepped out of the Batcave to grab himself a coffee. He was gone for 10 minutes.
So tell him why as soon as he closes the entrance, he's accosted with the sound of Jason and Damian bickering over the bat computer. The computer he’d been using for the past 5 hours to try and solve an ongoing trafficking ring.
“I told you my fucking number and I’m no liar,” Jason grumbles.
“Shut it Todd, I’m concentrating.”
Why does this always happen to Tim? What god did he piss off enough to regularly put him in the room when his brothers are arguing? What did he do to deserve such slander??
“You wouldn't have to concentrate if you just believed me-” Jason snaps, as Tim starts to make his way down the staircase, quietly stepping between shadows to avoid being seen.
“I refuse to believe that you’ve killed that many people since you were revived.”
“I’mma crime lord, brat. I’ve killed a lot of fucking people. Not to mention the Pit Rage.”
When Tim gets his first peak of the Bat Computer, he doesn't know why he bothered to be sneaky. At a first glance, Jason looks casually relaxed, his feet up on the desk, but his shoulders are tight and his attention is focused on whatever the hell Damian is doing.
Did Tim mention that he didn’t like where this is going? He would like it on record that he doesn't like this one bit.
“Pit Rage or not, that’s a preposterous number.”
“And that’s a good enough reason to hack into the Watchtower for all the information they have on the League of Assassins?”
Oh shit. Oh fuck .
“Father has encrypted folders stored in their databases holding detailed information pertaining to the League of Assassins." Damian sniffs, "If the information we seek is anywhere, it’ll be there.”
Nope, Tim is definitely not a fan of this development. He’d been meaning to see if he could get to that particular file and erase all mentions of Ra’s obsession with him. Tim just hadn’t gotten around to it.
“And you’re what? Going to hack past Oracle?”
“No,” Damian scoffs, “I know the password.”
Tim scrambles for his phone. It’s not his favorite device to hack from but dammit, needs must.
"How the hell did you manage that?"
"As if I'd tell you."
“Sneaky little shit.” Jason sounds begrudgingly impressed.
For a few moments, the cave is filled with the sound of aggressive typing, before Damian makes a small, pleased noise.
“I’m in.”
From this angle he can’t see what Damian typed, but Tim has been breaking into shit he shouldn’t for longer than he should have been able to. He’s just gotta get in before they can download something they shouldn’t.
“Great, where’s the LOA files? Do they even have the LOA files?”
“Of course they do, the watchtower is updated on every major server-”
Tim frantically pulls up backdoors and firewall scanners, hoping he can slip his way inside despite not being connected to a direct network.
“What’s that?”
“We have a task, Todd. Try to stay focused.”
“No, go back. I’ve never seen that before.”
Damian scoffs, but returns to a file labeled, 'The Detective - Project Failed’
See, this is why Tim can’t have nice things. Every time he lets his guard down for even a second, a meddling brother fucks it up for him. Truly a tragic life he leads.
“It’s nothing important. Clearly it wasn’t successful-”
“Open it.”
“This is not a leisurely perusement of information, Todd. We have a task to fulfill.”
“The file was created two years ago. That’s too recent to have been Bruce.”
Damian pauses, cursor hovering over the file. Tim hopes with everything he has that the kid will ignore Jason’s request.
But of course, because the universe hates him, Damian clicks it.
The Detective
Age: 17
Height: 5’6”
Weight: 131 lbs
"I fucking told you it wasn't Batman. That's Robin levels of scrawny."
"I applaud your clearly superior intellect, Todd." Damian drawls.
"Who the hell taught you sarcasm?"
“I didn’t need to be taught, unlike some.”
“Bullshit.”
“I don't see how this is relevant.”
ABILITIES:
Trained by Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Lady Shiva
Martial arts disciplines including but not limited to:
Kung Fu, Aikido, Jeet Kune Do, Escrima, Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Wing Chun, Hapkido, Karate, Savate, Kendo, Ninjitsu, Tai Chi, Leopard Kung Fu and Biangan.
Prefered Weapon
Bow staff
Highly skilled combatant
Master Detective, Tactician, and Strategist
Gifted Intellect
Excels in computer science and inventions
Firm grasp of assorted scientific techniques including biology, engineering genetics, forensic, criminology, acrobatics, stealth, disguise, and escapology.
"So I know I made a joke about this being a Robin, but…" Jason trails off.
"These descriptions are too specific." Damien agrees.
AFFILIATIONS:
Batman and his associates
Leader of Young Justice
Leader of Teen Titans
Justice League associates
League of Assassins associates
"Which fucking Robin worked with Ra's of all people?"
"I am the heir of-"
"Tell me when exactly you lead Young Justice."
“Tch.” Damain scoffs.
PERSONAL CONNECTIONS:
Janet Drake (Mother): Dead
Jack Drake (Father): Dead
Eddie Drake (Uncle): Fake Identity
"Oh fuck ." Jason breathes.
ALIAS:
Timothy (Tim) Jackson Drake-Wayne
Robin - Boy Wonder
Red Robin
The Detective
Alvin Draper
"What kind of alias is Alvin ? What the fuck?"
History:
Defeated King Snake (assisted)
Defeated Clusmaster (alone)
Escaped Bane and Killer Croc (alone)
Defeated Firefly (alone)
'Zero Hour'
Defeated KGBeast (alone)
Kidnapped by Zeus - (escaped alone)
First contact with LOA - apocalypse virus
Defeated Cluemasrer (alone)
Lead Young Justice
'No Man's Land'
Defeated Mr. Freeze and Ratcatcher (alone)
Defeated Darkseid (assisted)
'Titans Tomorrow'
Defended Bludhaven from OMAC's (assisted)
Defeated Secret Society of Super Villains (assisted)
Reassembled Teen Titans
Defeated Obeah Man (alone)
LOA affiliation - Objective: [REDACTED]
“No fucking way.” Jason breathes, and judging by Damain’s silence, he shares Jason’s sentiment.
Tim’s frantic typing is yielding no results. Fuck .
“I didn’t think the kid had it in him.”
“I was not aware that Drake was so… versatile in his skills.”
“That’s a fancy fucking way of saying he’s got a rap sheet longer than Santa’s naughty list.”
“He didn’t strike me as the type to work with Grandfather.”
“Yeah, no shit. When did that even happen?”
“By the dates, it would have been during Father’s disappearance into the time stream.”
“ Oh my fucking god .”
Classification: Potential Heir
Mission Success Rate: 98%
Active Member: N/A
Time of Service: 1y 2m 15d
Kill Count: 8,528
“That number can’t possibly be right.”
“Holy fuck, that’s a higher kill count than me .”
“I refuse to believe this. We need more evidence.” Damian states, scrolling down to the detailed notes.
“He blew up a League base?”
“Not just one. He blew up 7.”
“I don’t understand how he would have had the information-”
Tim’s phone vibrates as finally gains access to the Watchtower. It’s too late to have kept his brothers from seeing what they did, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bury his file.
“It says he that he was favored by Ra’s and… that bastard wanted him to be the next Demon’s Head? What the hell did Timmy do ?”
“I don’t understand.”
The data starts disappearing, and Tim clears his throat. His brothers turn around, staring wide-eyed at Tim’s blank face.
His heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, but he forces a smirk.
“No one will ever believe you.”
Tim turns and sprints for the door.
Without the copies stored away in the watchtower database, his brothers will be hard-pressed to come up with proof about his crimes and really, he’s heard far too many comments about him being one of the more morally sound people in the family, so it’s not likely that his brothers will be taken seriously, but he's not sticking around long enough to get caught.
Tim’s escape lasts about five minutes.
It’s an epic five minutes, there’s a lot of sick flips and narrow misses involved, but by the end of it, the entire family is on the chase.
Which, Tim thinks wryly, is just fucking perfect as he wheezes under the weight of 200 pounds of sheer muscle.
“You have some fucking explaining to do, Timbo.” The jerk that’s currently crushing all of the air out of Tim’s lungs says, but all Tim can do is wheeze.
The weight lifts and oh . Fuck . Yeah, no wonder Tim was on the verge of breaking a rib, Jason was the one who tackled him.
Rude. Tim weighs like. A third of him. The man could at least pretend to use some constraint.
“Tell me why,” Jason starts in a dangerously low tone, “You have the highest kill count in this family.”
Tim tilts his head, the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“ Bull. Shit . Damian and I saw the fucking file. Deleting it doesn't change the facts.”
Tim's expression doesn't falter. He’s been rubbing elbows with high society since before he could walk. He’s well practiced in a poker face. “What file?”
Jason lunges for him.
A short scuffle later finds both Tim and Jason separated, Bruce with an arm across Jason’s chest and Dick bodily hauling Tim off the ground.
"What's going on?"
Ah shit, that's Bruce's Batman voice.
"Tim has a kill count higher than me." Jason immediately spits, the snitch.
"He worked with Grandfather."
"He blew up 7 league bases."
Every gaze in the room lands on Tim, and he sighs, admitting defeat and slumping in the hold Dick has him in. Damn the man and his octopus arms.
It was a good run. But the gig is up.
"I was in a… bad headspace." He shrugs ruefully, "Black Canary once told me that shared misery is halved misery.”
“Your ‘bad headspace’ lead to blowing up 7 League bases ?”
Tim shrugs. “In my defense, Ra’s is an asshole who has my spleen in a jar. I think he deserves it.”
The arms tighten around Tim, “He has what -”
”Your spleen ?”
“That does sound indicative of Grandfather’s behavior.”
“What the actual fuck, replacement.”
"You have some serious explaining to do." Bruce says, tone authoritative with no room for argument.
Tim sighs. He just wanted coffee.
An opinion. Jason was the only batkid who did not come with a pre-installed Kill option, that was downloaded, after death, while he was with the League. Dick, Tim and Damian, tho, they came with it, and Bruce had to learn to manually turn it off.
99% success rate with Dick and Damian.
76% success rate with Tim who has not killed anybody, but has contemplated it way too many times for Bruce to be comfortable with.
Edit: for all the people who keep saying "But Tim blew up the League bases with so many people," listen, if Bruce doesn't know, it didn't happen. Don't go snitching on my boy like that.
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lillypad-monopoly · 2 days ago
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Wild Life Episode 5 Thoughts
(Except I'm insane about Martyn's ep)
LIFE SERIES TRIVIA is DIABOLICAL! The watchers literally being like "how well do you guys know your pain and suffering?" (also sorry only winners remember theory truthers)
The way Grian and Scar are such bitter ex-soulmates that Mumbo has to point it out is hilarious. (also them getting even and saying "Just like Third Life" hurt my heart)
Grian not remembering iconic moments from his own series is so funny. What do you mean he only knows Martyn beheaded Ren with an axe from fanart? Grian gaining possession of the Red Winter Axe was a whole plot point.
MUMBO FIRST OUT! IN SESSION 5! The canary curse is broken for real now guys but at what cost.
Grian standing on the ruins of the tower by himself going through the five stages of grief over Mumbo's death as the sun rises in the background is a gorgeous piece of fanart waiting to happen
Martyn you didn't need to start the episode by talking about how Ren is providing for you, you're asking for the shipping at this point 🤣
MARTYN YOU DO THE LORE OFC JIMMY AND TANGO WERE OUT FIRST. Also REN YOU WERE LITERALLY IN DOUBLE LIFE. RIP Ren/BigB we know where his true loyalties lie
THE TWO NICKLES MEME BREAKING CONTAINMENT I CAN'T
Ren inviting BigB to join the RenWood Mound alliance WITHOUT REMEMBERING DOUBLE LIFE is so insane I don't even know what to say.
OF COURSE SCAR REMEMBERS THE DESERT DUO FLOWERS I'M GOING TO BE SICK
Martyn and Ren saying they're going to be boat bros. This has been coming since last session but I NEED Joel and Etho to call them out on it
"We're boat boys," MARTYN INTHELITTLEWOOD WHEN I CATCH YOU-
Etho yelling for Bdubs to hit him so they could test if the wildcard affected damage and then Tango going "smack me harder~" in the background was diabolical. Suuuure you guys are all PG.
Etho sitting in a boat for Joel to jump over him feels like some boat boys relationship symbolism I'm not smart enough to explain
So Etho is currently living with team BET, but allied with the Four Gs, and in the family with Gem and Joel. Wildcard Etho is so back!
Of course Impulse immediately remembered the clock question.
Joel boasting about how he immediately knows all the questions is peak Joel form and I would expect nothing less. It is kind of warranted though because everybody else is waffling on the simple ones.
Joel is now two for two on unquestioningly trusting Etho only to have something bad happen to him and not even being mad about it what is wrong with this man 😭
Does Joel have the censor bleep on his keyboard or did he just straight up start swearing at Tango and know they would both have to censor it in post to get the effect that he was also making the noise?
Scott's gone from a creaking fanboy to a body horror situation and I'm living for it (also considering he's agreed to "go wild" this session--am I sensing a Scott corruption arc?)
Scott cutting directly from saying he and Jimmy were never married even though they called each other husbands to a scene WITH Jimmy was kind of an insane choice
Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Girldad has been confirmed by Scott as the actual reason for the 4Gs. I still think Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss ImpulseSV is funnier but good to have an official ruling
Scott giving up his life for Pearl and them being good natured about it and calling it therapy! I love them so much!
Lizzie being the only person who's not exicted when a trivia bot spawns is so funny. Even the other players who weren't in all the seasons don't seem to be as miffed by them as she is.
Lizzie's flaming snail arising out of that hole while smiling is potentially the funniest thing I've seen all day. Why did it look like that 🤣
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eliossun · 1 day ago
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LAST SHOT - ego death
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synopsis : interning at a random ship in space sounds like a great idea for your paper. don't you think? part -> 2 | other chapters -> 1 3 ?
characters : anya, swansea, daisuke, curly, jimmy, gn!reader (daisuke x reader implied)
content : continuation of part 1! i suggest you to read part 1 first, but if you're insistent, you can read this as a stand alone! descriptions of panicking, minor character death, the birthday party (pre crash), and . jimmy. ew
wc : 4.6k+
before you read, reader is : cold, non expressive, and the worst crime of all, a psychology major...
i tried to stick to canon interpretation as much as possible, but i put in some hcs about anya's background ^^; it's only mentioned in one part of this story, but if that bothers you, you can skip! it's not that imp in this chapter !!
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- today, you weren’t woken up by your body alarm.
- normally, you would wake up earlier than everyone else, and by the time you folded your ‘bed’ properly by the door, anya’s also awake. that’s how you get to greet each other first at the start of every day. (which daisuke tries to do, but you could tell that he’s going to ignore his alarm for the first few minutes .. as usual.)
- instead, footsteps wake you up. 
- they get closer, and closer, and -
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“why the fuck are you sleeping in the hallways again?”
your eyes blink open, slowly. it’s been a few hours after curfew. even with that much sleep in your system - not an ounce of sleep seeped into your body, actually - you manage to seem completely awake at the voice; like you were expecting it.
because you were. you’re surprised it took this long for him to approach you.
peering up at the figure, you find your co-pilot standing before you, looming.
“you have a bed, don’t you? why don’t you use it?”
it’s a valid question. but you can’t just say that he was the reason directly, right? no, he would throw a tantrum. you’re not afraid of what will happen to you - you’re an intern, after all. but the fate of possibly being stuck with an angry manchild for the next few months was in your hands. 
so for now, you hold his glare. 
“was i bothering you?”
if your tone was too sharp, you could just excuse it for the ‘sleepiness’. 
he seems to get that you wouldn’t falter that easily. if he answered anything remote to a yes or a no - he knows that you would just push further.
“you’re going to make more work for anya.” 
so , he diverts the conversation. 
it’s a smart tactic, and you would enjoy conversations like these with your friends. but this man before you is not a friend; you hold nothing but wariness for him. he’s trying to get a reaction out of you, and you’re not going to provide that.
“i think i can take care of myself well enough.”
you look at him, up - then down after you say those words. 
‘unlike you.’
his scowl only got worse, and by now, you’re already all cozied up, and ready to fall back asleep - even if it was only for show. you take a last peek at him, before ending the conversation.
“night.”
after a few moments, you can hear his footsteps getting further away, and you inwardly sigh.
you don’t dream that night. 
but you fall asleep with a smile on your face, and to you, that’s good enough.
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- after that little confrontation of yours, jimmy has not held back in his hostility against you.
- instead of bringing down people in your presence, he had opted to bring you down as well during your psych tests.
- you don’t respond, and maintain your usual attitude when it comes to processing his psych tests.
- however, around others, he simply stares daggers into you. there is no bark; nor bite.
- he’s not scared of what others might do once they know - just.. mildly unconvinced - or so he thinks. that’s your hypothesis.
- because, what would the crew do if they knew that one of their members was being bullied only because they were resting unusually, bothering no one, and doing no harm?
- you hold it above his head every single moment; wordlessly.
- and you both know it.
- you win for the moment. but you’ll still have to watch out for him.
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- nowadays, your routine.. has changed a bit. 
- unlike before, you’d wake up an hour earlier than the crew, fold your blankets, place them in the room, and then check on your supplies. 
- the bag filled with airtight seal snacks, still very abundant due to your careful rationing, check.
-your already half-filled journal, filled with months worth of research and journaling, check.
- your thrifted power banks (they are a bit more drained than you expected), check.
- your ds with additional stickers on it (mainly from daisuke, but you managed to get one from swansea. it’s a warning label for one of his tools..), check
- your taser and gun (never used, and hidden for safety), check..
- and your emotional support mp3. 
- you stare at this particular item often.
- it contained the ambiance that came from your favourite part of town. your local cafe, the buzz of the aircon in your apartment, the library, and the rain. and not to mention, your favourite books. it’s perfect.
- now to think of it, you really do miss the rain. 
- the closest you got to rain here was.. the showers. pretty sad.
- after doing your item checkup, you head towards the lounge with anya right after you’ve showered.
- the communal shower is more private now, thanks to you placing an occupied and not occupied sign - right on the small window on the bathroom door. (why was that there, anyway?)
- you both eat breakfast; then either relax there, or you’d immediately go to the medical bay. sometimes, if you had time, you’d play games with anya and daisuke until it’s time to start your day. the latter is increasingly more rare occasion by the day, though.
- sometimes curly comes in right after you and anya. sometimes, it’s daisuke who comes in, pleading for you to play with him before the day starts..
 - and on very rare occasions, swansea comes in first. 
- before doing anything, he visits the coffee machine and grabs a can of.. whatever’s available, at this point.
- .. now you’ve nearly ran out of coffee. 
- you think that’s horrifying. a whole vending machine’s worth of coffee.. 
- but to be fair, you have done the same in exam seasons. and you’re not quite dead yet, so..
- eh. maybe you shouldn’t be too worried.
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- your daily work includes: learning as much as you could from anya, writing down your conclusions/observations in your journal (for academic purposes), and checking on medical supplies. 
- most of the time, people who come in request for medicine, or have sustained some cuts/bruises. people rarely get sick, and when they do, you’ve tried your best to stop them from working. it’s dangerous to work whilst sick, especially considering that everyone’s job is pretty .. dangerous.
- think about it. if you had to work as a mechanic whilst you’re sick, what are the chances of damaging the ship? and if you were piloting while you’re sick.. the ship might crash.
- you don’t want to entertain the possibilities, so you end up forcing them to their rooms.
- at the end of the day, you take another shower, before changing into another set of pony express uniform. 
- you’re starting to get tired of looking at the same yellow and reds. perhaps you could’ve brought more personal clothing.. 
- after lounging in the living room (what daisuke likes to call it), you pull your blankets out once again, and sleep.
- that has been your routine for these past few months.
- it’s not that bad. surface wise - it’s not as bad as your daily life before the internship.
- but mentally? this is challenging. 
- you’re starting to miss grass, of all things. grass. 
- that green weed that grows from the ground- the dirt? yeah. you’re starting to miss that.
- you realise you’ve taken a lot of things for granted whilst you were in this metal hunk. 
- that includes the sun.
- recalling this all just as you’re about to eat dinner made you suddenly miss the moon too.
- as you open the door, it revealed the entire crew already seated, and you were the last person to join dinner.
- your seat is empty, in the middle of anya and curly.
- your eyes linger on the group, laughing together on the dining table. 
- as you were observing the whole crew from afar, daisuke manages to spot you, and then calls you over. 
- anya sends you a smile as she looks in your direction as well. curly follows after, sending you a smile, swansea nods at you. 
- your chest felt warm that night.
- .. maybe you really should treasure these moments more as well.
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- there is one extra addition to your bi-daily tasks.
- laundry with daisuke. 
- or laundai… can you guess who made that pun?
- every three to four days, you meet up with him in front of the laundry room, basket of laundry in your arms, and his own laundry in his. 
- it’s not that he’s incapable of doing it - but he insists that you do it together on the day of the detergent accident. ever since then, you’ve been accompanying him.
- you try to spot if he adds too much or too little detergent, taught him which buttons to press on what occasions, and you also teach him how to pick up his laundry quickly.
- sometimes you do machine maintenance.. removing the tray at the bottom and washing the insides of the machine.
- while the laundry runs, you often just sit there together. seeing the laundry tumble, soap and water mixing together. 
- one time, he asked to go on a surfing trip with you. he made a comparison between the two of you and the clothes in the machine. 
- you pointed out that the clothes are, quite literally, drowning in water. 
- he immediately counters you - by saying that he meant the bubbles looked fun - and continues to try and convince you, saying that he’ll teach you how to surf
- .. that conversation ended with you saying maybe. 
- he cheers, and you were only able to sigh (fondly).
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- he talks a lot, and you try to incorporate enough words in between your listening. 
- you talk about all sorts of things. how your day was, how you missed the sun (this topic was brought up by you), the amazement you held for the crew for working here for so long.
- daisuke also talks about the little things as well. although shy, he shows you his notes- and by extension- his doodles.
- one time you saw him drawing the entire crew, live, whilst you were doing laundry. and somehow, he managed to get the courage to ask you to model for him. (mainly just staying still as you look down at your hands, to replicate the look you had when you were doing your journal)
- you roll your eyes at his request -not to belittle it, but to laugh at the cheesiness of it all - and whilst doing so, a smile smile was painted on your lips.
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you could feel your lips quirking up at the shy tone of his voice, your eyes looking at him with a fond crease subconciously.
"you could draw me, sure."
"wait, do that again."
daisuke watches you eagerly, a certain shine of disbelief in his eyes as you tilt your head at him, face now back to your usual expression.
"do what?"
he stares at you for a beat. then by the next, his face has already turned away from you, his eyes tightly shut and his hands clenched in front of him in faux defeat.
"noooo.. i can't believe i didn't get a picture of that- man!"
his mumble doesn't get unheard.
"get a picture of what?"
and as soon as you asked that question, his head is facing back in your direction, smiling and giving you a thumbs up.
"nothing!"
you hum in amusement.
"alright."
another smile slips by your lips. and this time, he exclaims, slamming his clipboard (for his drawings) down.
"you just smiled again!"
"i did?"
he continues to pester you to smile once more, and you kept on insisting that you had no idea what he was talking about.
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- you had fun playing dumb in front of him, and him getting all frustrated. he looks like an angry puppy, which turned into .. a begging puppy?
- you watch as he pulls his puppy eyes on you, to no avail.
- but you somehow still remember the look on his face. the way his lips were downturned into a small pout and his eyes were wide open, peering at you. it's.. cute. to a certain extent.
- you eventually went back to drawing, and he offered you a little sticky note with a small doodle of him encouraging you on it.
- you still keep the note to this day. he's incredibly endearing sometimes.
- on a few occasion he doesn’t talk at all, but that’s pretty rare.
- the last time he remained silent for the entire session was when you brought your journal along for the wait.
- you had already recorded the past month’s results, and the day you set for data analysis lined up with laundry day. 
- so you brought the book with you, and you kept your eyes on the book the entire time. 
- you did the laundry with one hand, essentially. you only looked up from your book to respond to daisuke, or to check on his laundry. 
- the silence only comes to your attention at the end of your laundry session. 
- the machine often plays a tune once it’s done with it’s job - when it doesn’t, you’d slap the lid, and then it plays the song.
- and usually, it’s accompanied by daisuke’s own hum of the tune.
- at first, you didn’t even realise that he didn’t follow along with the melody. but after a moment, you felt something was off.
- your eyes flicker towards his direction, and you see him napping. 
- he’s snoozing away, hugging his own laundry basket. 
- and he looks.. peaceful.
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- this wouldn’t be the first time you saw him asleep. the first time was when you brought him to his room after game night. the second time was when you spotted him on the sofa, napping the evening away on the same day swansea was sick - and this.. would be the third.
- your fingers subconsciously reach out to brush his hair back. you stopped once you realised what you were going to do - your hand inches away from his face.
- dropping your hand back onto your lap, you sigh again. it’s an action you find yourself doing more often.
- you try to focus on your research again, flicking to the next page - your eyes following the lines you’ve written before.
- so you both sit there, his soft breaths filling in the air every now and then, and the flicks of pages accompanying them right after.
- he wakes up sooner than you expected, and you briefly suffer the wrath of the sleepy daisuke.
- half-asleep gibberish about you not waiting for him, and leaving him in the laundry room alone. (while you were right there)
- it takes a few minutes before he falls back asleep, this time, on your shoulder.
- you really hoped he really would’ve truly woken up, even if it did mean sitting through more of his sleep induced rants. 
- .. now you’ll have to stay in this room, in the same position - your shoulders possibly freezing up at this rate - and .. perhaps also face swansea’s wrath later for keeping his intern for too long.
- oh well. 
- you’ll face it later. 
- for now, you’ll just continue reviewing your data… with a snoozing mechanic intern on your shoulder.
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- the other day, curly went by your office. 
- it’s odd enough for him to approach you first before you call him for evaluation.
- but it wasn’t psych eval day; and you watch as he enters the medical bay warily, avoiding your gaze after a brief moment of your eyes meeting.
- you could already feel like it would be a long session. or at least, a heavy one. 
- so you place down your clipboard, and instead focus entirely on him.
- he struggles to get a word out other than “hi, sorry for bothering you, do you mind if i.. talk to you as a patient?”
- so you wait. your eyes remain glued at him, and he takes a few breaths in; then out. and it repeats, over and over again.
- the machine buzzes beneath your feet. it’s louder in the silence.
- so are your breaths. and so is his.
- and finally, the silent tempo is broken by a sigh.
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“the crew is getting laid off,”
the words are spoken in a low mumble, so soft that you wouldn’t hear them if you weren’t paying attention. but you did hear anyway.
he looks visible distressed; hands messing his own hair up, his fingers fidget more, and eyebags looking heavier than usual. he refuses to look you in the eyes. 
this would be the first time you’ve seen him like this. it’s been sixteen minutes since he came in, and this was the first words that he said, aside from the greeting he gave you.
he's waiting for something. your breath faltering, or perhaps your expression dropping. you can tell by the way he looks at you. 
he seems guilty. 
“.. i just talked with jimmy. before the news, about how i felt stuck in this job.”
he takes a heavy drag of air into his lungs.
“i didn’t mean to.. i didn’t know that this would happen. he’s going to think that i had involvement in this.”
“but you know you don’t.”
your eyes continue to pick up on the little quirks on his body. his faster way of speaking - the way he tumbles over his sentences. and it also explains why he wasn’t seen at the lounge for the past couple of days.
these are behaviours that distressed individuals display. you remember this clearly in a textbook you had reviewed previously.
for the first time, in the past nineteen minutes, he looks up at you. 
“will you let his beliefs prevail over your own?”
you continue to stare at him, he stares back.
after a brief moment of strength, he seems to give up. his body falls back into himself - his body fully leaned back onto the chair.
“.. i don’t know.”
he takes another deep breath in, and you can feel your eyebrows temporarily furrow.
“his views matter to me. so does everyone else’s views. i can’t discount their thoughts about this.”
“but you can discount your own?”
your question rings in the room. this time, he doesn’t dare to hold your gaze anymore.
“you’re not at fault here. you want everyone to win in this situation, and that’s impossible.”
you tap your finger on the table, producing a stable rhythm on the table.
“there is nothing you can do to change this outcome anymore.”
you close your eyes, and your finger comes to a stop.
“...the best you could do now is to not let others write your narrative for you. help others write their own narrative as well.”
you watch as he sinks deeper into his seat.
“...you’re right.”
and this is as far as you can go. 
you can’t help with anything more as a faux therapist.
you’re not qualified for it either. the best you could do is to make him understand that it isn’t his fault, and no, he should not be carrying this burden, nor allowing people to blame him either.
you know he knows this. but does he understand it?
so all you can do is wait; wait until he does.
the blonde man lifts himself up from the seat in front of you, taking a deep breath as he walks around the medical bay.
his eyes are closed, before he attempts to harden himself again. 
he sends a smile at you, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
“..sorry for coming out of the blue. i’m not sure what made me do that.“
he even tries to throw in a chuckle, but it just sounds dry. you send him a sour expression.
another exhale sounds in the room; and this time, the sigh didn’t come from him. 
“.. you can do this, curly. don’t doubt yourself either.”
you meet his eyes for the final time. 
this time; he’s completely defeated. no longer is he standing before you as captain, but as a man, grieving for his friends’ futures. for the stable future that they might’ve once believed in. that man sends a weak nod in your direction.
“.. i’ll try.”
the male leaves with a small thank you, and silence follows after.
your eyes are trained at the false sky as the door shuts in on itself. your calm demeanour slowly unfolds on the wooden desk, your head now buried in your arms. 
.. now that his burdens are shared with you, what should you do?
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- everyone knows by now that your work with anya in the medical bay are split into two.
- anya with physical injuries, and you.. working on psych tests. 
- you don’t want to say that you work with mental injuries just yet. that’s a horrifying thought. you’re seriously not qualified yet.
- hell, you probably didn’t give proper treatment towards curly that other time.. you don't think you're quite ready to become a therapist yet. that's one thing you've learnt in this internship.
- but point is, you’ve barely dealt with physical injuries prior to this.
- why are you bringing this up? well..
- anya got sick.
- it’s a fever and flu of some sort. you say it’s the airconditioning in her room, and she denies it - saying that it was fine last night. 
- then you suggest that it might be her habit of waking up way too early, and this time, she agrees that it could’ve been what played part in making her sick.
- she laughs when you sigh; mostly due to the fact that she knew you were joking.
- you’ve been helping her do mundane stuff. examples were.. bringing a basin of water of warm water and a small towel for baths, medicine and food prepared for her, and making sure she gets enough entertainment whilst also making sure she slept enough.
- you would really prefer if you could’ve just cared for her in her room…
- but she refused - and instead, remains at the medical bay. she wants to be prepared if anyone’s injured, she says, while she looks like she's dying. (you’re exaggerating)
- but since that’s the only way she would allow you to help her, you comply.
- she often sleeps hunched over the desk. that’s why you brought one of the pillows from the lounge to her. 
- she seemed concerned once she saw the pillow, and you get why - safety reasons, germs, etc. - but you promised that you would wash the entire pillow after it gets in and out of the medical bay.
- it was her time to sigh at your expense. you let out a huff of defeat.
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- having a sibling-like relationship with anya meant that she kept you close enough to watch over you, but not close enough to know her.
- only throughout the course of nursing her back to health, do you get to hear more about her life.
- she wanted to pursue nursing due to her mother’s poor health throughout her entire life. 
- her father was the only source of income, and almost saw his wife as a burden.
- living with her older and younger sisters, she had tried to make sure that the two were alright as well, whilst taking care of her mother. this managed to affect her grades.
- miraculously, her mother’s condition got better after some time, and the burden on her older sister’s duties got better.
- but this meant arguments got worse. so she left, leaving her younger sister in her older sister’s care. 
- she promised to take care of her mother when she got older. but after a year she left home, her mother tragically died due to a heart attack.
- that’s how she told you that she never had anyone to care for her like this, ever since she moved and got a job in the city.
- before you knew it, you had something in your eye.
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“..are you crying?”
you sniffle, looking away from her - a poor attempt of hiding away your .. emotional state.
“.. no.”
your voice gives it away. damnit.
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- she only laughs at your attempts, before convincing you that it was alright now. she’s still alive. and you can only cry more.
- you compose yourself, before handing her another cup of water, and a replacement towel for her forehead. 
- she thanks you quite a lot during the entirety of it. you try to assure that she was welcome to ask for your help.
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- but when swansea comes in with a particularly nasty cut - daisuke trailing behind the old man, panicking - you nearly panic as well.
- you try your best to stay calm, following what you’ve learnt from your mentor.
- disinfectant. don’t touch the wound with alcohol. clean the surroundings, and then secure the wrap with bandages. make sure that you handle it properly. 
- before you knew it, you were done.
- it’s not as good as anya’s, but you think you did well with the bandages. 
- swansea thanks you, and daisuke gives you two thumbs ups. it’s hard to not reciprocate his energy, so you give him one as well.
- anya, on the other hand, stares at you wide-eyed. 
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you tilt your head at her expression.
“.. did i do something wrong?”
her expression doesn’t look like a dangerous expression - just more towards shock, and perhaps, something else.
“i didn’t know you improved so much..”
ah. she still remembers, it seems..
at the first day, she asked how much knowledge you had about first aid. and you responded by showing her what you’d do when you had a cut. it’s safe to say that you made.. leaps of improvement. 
“yeah. i’ve been paying close attention to you.”
you watch as she realises what she did.
“i.. taught you that..”
you nod in response.
“yeah. you did.”
she smiles at you, and now, it was her who had tears in her eyes.
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- you tried your best to comfort her after that. 
- you used your newfound knowledge - that she likes tea - and brought her a cup.
- perhaps, due to the exhaustion, she immediately went to sleep an hour after she downed the tea.
- you made sure she was alright, before continuing your writing on the journal.
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- you were informed of a communal birthday party (how cheap is the pony express?), and this time, you were celebrating curly's birthday. 
- everyone's wearing party hats - striped yellow and red, the same colours of your uniform.
- you’re seriously getting sick of seeing it.
- not sure why no one bothered observing and memorising the codes. but you did. and so, you baked the cake beforehand.
- daisuke practically wails at you, asking why you never told him that you knew the pass to the sweetener all this time. basically, putting on a dramatic show.
- you stare back at him, deadpan. the both of you know why you didn’t reveal it to him.
- he only grins once he got caught. you sigh.
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- so, that didn’t go well.
- you surprised curly, but it seems like today was the day he decided to break the news to the members about the disbandment. he was told to wait until you were closer to the destination of the delivery but..
- you suppose this would be the best outcome, if you only had curly’s emotional state in mind.
- swansea makes a bitter joke, anya looks increasingly worried, and daisuke’s silent, unable to say anything in this situation.
- and jimmy…
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“..so i guess you got what you wanted.”
jimmy laughs bitterly, his hands on the table.
“without the guilt.”
you watch as curly attempts to explain himself.
“jim.. if i had known..”
a poor explanation it was. you could only watch as the brown-haired man grows more agitated.
“i can go back to my, how’d you put it? “struggle of a life?””
the room is slowly growing more heavy at his words. 
he’s clearly talking about a previous conversation with curly. but at the same time.. he’s wording it particularly. sure, you weren’t there when the conversation happened, but you think you get the gist of what jimmy’s trying to do at the moment - and it’s starting to affect others in the room as well.
“sounds like you’re blaming him for this, jimmy.”
so you try to diffuse whatever he’s planning.
his furrowed eyes snap at you, and he immediately explodes.
“what would you fucking know, huh?”
his hands slam at the table, shaking the cutlery on the surface, and it becomes evident that he doesn’t care about the things that could break at this very moment. he’s only interested in expressing his own anger.
so, you conclude that you were right. he’s releasing his anger by picking arguments, instead of thinking rationally, disregarding curly’s emotion, and how it might cause misunderstandings.
you should’ve expected this much from him.
you decide to retort, tone calm as you speak.
“i know that this should be blamed on management. not the man whose a small cog in the machine right now.”
he only looks angrier after being presented with sound logic.
“oh, please, cut your poetic crap. you come out of this unscathed. you don’t have any rights to talk.”
at this point, you’re just more tired than confused. 
“and you have the right to blame someone that isn’t at fault? who gave you the right to do that?”
you slowly unfold your arms, staring at him, before scanning at the others.
they all have different expressions, and you could feel how heavy the atmosphere is. to think that someone like him could cause this much trouble.. 
you look at the perpetrator one last time, as you add in a final comment.
“stop trying to twist reality to your own narrative.”
with that, you could see him seething in his seat. 
his eyes are sharp on you, and you’d continue this little staring competition if you were any less sane. so for now, you place your party hat down on the table, and remove yourself from the conversation.
“i think everyone needs time to process this. so i’ll leave first. goodnight.”
those were your final words, before you stood up from your chair, and left the table.
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- after you left, daisuke followed after. then anya, and then swansea.
- everyone’s hat remains at the table, either upright or simply discarded on the wooden surface.
- safe to say, you all agreed that time was the solution for the short while, and you can’t be more proud of them for having some sort of sanity - unlike a certain brunette. 
- but you could only watch as the door closes on you, with curly and jimmy sitting alone on the table.
- you just hope he doesn’t dig a deeper hole for himself. it would make your efforts of redirecting his anger towards you pointless.
- alas, you don’t have power over him.
- you can lead someone to water, but you can’t make them drink, after all.
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i did NOT proofread this. oh man. ill edit it later on.. perhaps...maybe.
i also did not know what possessed me when i was writing this. jimmy feels really ooc but maybe it's because no one has tried to put that man in his place LOL.. only swansea did at the end (by attempting to kill him. valid btw)
hopefully i managed to flesh out each character's relationship with reader enough in this chapter .. i didn't get to write swansea in but tried my best to slip him in the details.. will focus on it next chap!
thank you so much for the support for this as well! i appreciate it tons!
extra notes: i'd like to think that the cake was stored in the fridge.. and eaten the next morning (although with a somber mood)
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sun & moon dividers by : @/saradika nighttime screen & the lounge visuals from mouthwashing
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frogchiro · 21 hours ago
Note
Been thinking about Chris in the college AU…
I think he’s a fuckboy, but at his core he has trad sensibilities (because he’s an asshole). So he fucks around with girls at college, but his ultimate goal is to find a nice girl to marry who can stay in his house and raise his kids so she never has to use that pretty little college degree.
Maybe he’s a sophomore now, so he’s still looking to chase tail, not quite ready to find his wife, so he’s not looking very hard.
But then Leon keeps talking about you. And poor Leon… he has no idea that him talking about his crush on you and all of the things he likes about you is like dropping bleeding prey in a shark tank. If Leon had kept his crush a secret, you might never have been noticed by any of them! But now it seems like every guy in his frat wants a piece of you!
And Chris sees you occasionally around campus, in class, almost never at any parties. You’re a good student, well dressed (mostly modest!), with great hips and a great rack (childbearing!!). And one day he sees you sitting with Ashley for coffee, and you take a napkin to wipe some whipped cream from her mouth for her, and Chris has to run back to the house to take a cold shower because he can so easily imagine you doing the same thing to his babies when you have them. What?
You’re almost never at the frat parties, cause you’re a good girl. And when you are, he never sees you go off with any guys, never lets them feel you up, you never get sloppy and drunk like that other sluts that come to these things. You just delicately sip from your cup, smiling and laughing with your little group of friends. You wear such nice jewelry— his ring on your finger would fit so perfectly with your look. What?
And the way you brush off Krauser and Leon when they’re being sleazy and quite frankly, desperate. He might’ve fallen for you at the exact same moment as Krauser. And Chris has such a superiority complex about his attraction to you. Leon just has a stupid little boy crush, Krauser wants to dick you down stupid, and to be honest… he’s not entirely certain what Luis is angling for, but he knows it’s probably not anything virtuous. But Chris wants to make an honest woman outta you 💖 so in his mind, he’s the only one pursuing you for the “right” reasons.
And if you’re friends with Clair, he’s totally taking advantage of that. Fishing for information about you, asking if you maybe have somewhere to go during holiday break…
-🐱
Yeah tbh that sums Chris really well up ;; Also I apologize for not answering sooner I just had a lot going on with uni work and it really hindered my writing attempts </3
And yes, Chris is definitely that type of guy that will fuck any girl that is willing but they are the sluts!! They are the hoes who don't respect themselves and are only after the dick!!1 And he is the nice guy who will fuck them and throw them out afterwards bc he 'doesn't do feelings' or shit like that.
Chris is here only for a good time and ofc experience! Like you said, despite being an asshole and a obnoxious party and fuckboy, he has weirdly traditional values at heart; white picked fence, a sweet stay at home wife with a baby on her hip for who he will gladly provide for as the loving and caring husband and will need all the sexual experience to make his wifey feel good...But he still has time! He is in college for 'all the experiences' more than the education itself and he's not the sharpest tool in the shed with how reckless he is but that's fine!
...Until it isn't
It was all fine and dandy until Leon started to bring you up, some girl he met in class and was gushing over you. Okay, weird enough since Leon wasn't really the gushing type but fair enough, nothing to worry over. But then it started to escalate and Chris started to wonder what is going on with his friend. Leon stopped going on those casual dates, stopped hooking up, never even glanced at another girl and his whining about you got even worse.
The final straw for Chris was when he caught Leon jacking off and filming himself while whining something about 'please respond I send you a cumshot video, now you have to send me a pussy pic, please even a tit pic please-' and Chris knew he had to get to know this girl that made Leon so pussy whipped without even seeing it as far as he knows!
And yeah Chris probably saw you for the first time during that one party where you and your little friend rejected Krauser's advances and Chris almost snorted his drink out and spat on the girl he was flirting with; suits that blonde asshole right, and you're...You're honestly incredible in Chris's eyes. So assertive and composed...Your clothes on the more revealing side, your tits almost spilling out of that dress, fuck...But still nowhere slutty like other girls!
Chris definitely has a weird superiority complex; despite the fact that he's arguably the worst hypocrite out of the group he still believes that his love for you is the only 'real' one; Leon is a dumb horny rich boy with a middle school crush, Krauser will sleaze over pretty girls all the time and Luis is a certified ladies man, he refers to himself in that way for fucks sake! And then there is Chris who wants to wife you up! Isn't he charming?? Just please ignore those girls who complain about the hookups he had with them, they are probably just bitter that he threw them out <3
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vidavalor · 2 days ago
Text
<<I would also not accept Crowley hate. I just never see it.>>
Same. Yeah, it doesn't exist. A lot of people's internalized issues at work, if you ask me, as to why there's only hate for Aziraphale when there shouldn't be hate for either of them.
<<I think for that to work, you have to take Crowley as the protagonist of the story and Aziraphale as an -- um, adjunct? romantic interest? Rather than seeing them as 2 equal players in the story.>>
If you want to get really technical about it? From a writing standpoint, Aziraphale is the main character because it's his story arc we're following the most throughout the story. He is the character who will under go the most change from chronological start-to-finish in the story. He and Crowley are two halves of a whole, though, so it's a little tricky and they're closer to being co-main-characters than you might get in other stories. Inside the story, though, the characters are definitely equal partners, and I agree that it's irritating to not always see that reflected in attitudes towards the characters.
The funny thing is, though, that people who think Crowley is the sole main character are showing that they don't really know what one is and are just focused on Crowley. For reasons. I wouldn't presume to know why, exactly, but I suspect that they are likely of 'want to fuck him even though he's fictional and subconsciously hate the main character who gets to' variety. Also shows how little they know the character as Crowley would not. care. for it. if he were to learn that they were disparaging his angel.
<<the Edinburgh minisode, that make it look like Aziraphale is still toeing the Heaven line and he is the only one who still (in 1827!) has learned nothing>>
Yeah, that attitude in people is showing that they're not really putting together the minisode, imho. Aziraphale struggling with conflicts of what he's supposed to be according to Heaven versus who he really is are not the same thing as Aziraphale being on the side of Heaven. He's never been on the side of Heaven. He gave away his sword in Eden. He lied and miracled to save Job's kids. He's been badass since the start.
I think it's also a feature of some people not seeing that Aziraphale is kind of dryly bitching about his job to Crowley in 1827 more than he is actually disagreeing with Crowley and Elspeth. He lives on Earth. He knows how lunacy Heaven's ideas about things are. He's complaining to Crowley about what he's up against and getting some reassurance in Crowley's wtf that's crazy! response that he's not alone in thinking so. The moment that he learns that Dalrymple isn't just a ghoul but someone who wants the bodies for greater good reasons, Aziraphale is happy to throw over whatever Heaven nonsense he's supposed to at least pretend to believe to help. He'll always do what he can to help. It's just all very tiresome that people think Crowley is perfect. He's not always right. There also isn't always a "right" at all.
<<such as the way the f15 was shown (many people do not sense any real threat from the Metatron, don't get the "able to see/hear what's happening in the shop", don't see anything weird about Crowley letting Aziraphale go off with the Metatron, etc.>>
Yeah, this... 😂 My favorite wtf interaction that I've had here on the Tumblr Dot Com is the person who told me that Aziraphale and Crowley weren't worried about being spied on in The Final 15 and when I pointed out things like... Aziraphale, looking out the window at Our Villain, doing the downward hands of "not right now" at Crowley, and trying to get him to stop talking? I was told-- kid you not-- that he just turned his head.
The closet is a theme of the season and there's an entire foreshadowing plot with the Nazi Zombie Flesheaters about Crowley and Aziraphale being spied on through the window and people who cannot make simple connections enough to understand what's happening, so... how's that for irony? There's a whole plot about people being unable to make connections... about which this person couldn't make a connection.
I agree to some extent that it's designed to appear a certain way, with particular emphasis on Crowley acting out of character, but it's not so cloak-and-dagger that we can't see that something is amiss. The number of people who don't seem to see Crowley as acting out of character by letting Aziraphale go alone with The Being Claiming To Be The Metatron amazes me. It should be the primary question to come out of that scene. This is what we were saying above, though-- they are too focused on precious demon got his feelings hurt to notice that there is something really, really wrong with precious demon. He just sat there and let Aziraphale go alone with someone who had tried to kill him and he'd never do that of his own free will and that's somehow not the biggest point of discussion?
But this is also the same problem as most people just believing without question that it's The Metatron at the door. Sure, it might be, but they definitely gave us a laundry list of clues that suggest we should at least be questioning it. Five angels cannot recognize him and he has to get a demon to identify him but that's not Satan? Really? After a whole season of "who are you" in every other scene? And all the minisodes being about Hell? Even if it's not, the point is that it's all very weird and many people are just taking what's happening as if nothing is weird, which I find to be... well, weird.
So many people think that The Metatron was legitimately offering Aziraphale a job and everything was on the up-and-up and... why would he ever do that? He'd never offer Crowley to be restored as an angel, either. That'd collapse Heaven and Hell in a day as every demon then would demand their own status as demons reviewed. They think this is The Metatron and they still believe him, even though he just tried to murder Gabriel? I was so surprised to see the number of people who don't think Aziraphale is in any danger here and think he just got promoted when the whole season seems like it's building towards something quite different but we'll see what happens in The Finale.
The gods of the Disc have never bothered much about judging the souls of the dead, and so people only go to hell if that's where they believe, in their deepest heart, that they deserve to go. Which they won't do if they don't know about it. This explains why it is so important to shoot missionaries on sight.
Eric, Terry Prachett
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anon-sect · 2 days ago
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TF Story requested by @mississippisocksblog
Drayson was in the special unit on the police force in charge of gathering intel in a special way. It was a simple get in and get out without the suspect knowing you was even present kind of job that his special unit was in charge of. It was made possible through TF advance technology. Many criminals had been put behind bars because of the expertise skills of his unit. But there were some casualties as well. Sometimes things didn't go exactly as planned and some officers were lost to the job. Yet that was the nature of his unit.
Drayson's mission was to gather evidence on Mr. Jim Brown, a big time CEO of Tangen Pharmaceutical Inc. They had been reported stories of foul play in the company and he was the ringleader of it all. All other attempts to prove it had failed.
Drayson was inspecting Jim's house while he was away on business when he heard Jim returning home a little earlier than expected. He had no way of getting out without being noticed. He took the special pill provided to operatives out in the field. He heard Jim coming up stairs to his room. The only thing he could think of was dress socks. Within seconds, he was nothing put a pair of dress socks on the floor. As long as he was ignored and not worn, he should be fine to escape sometime later.
Jim walked in to see his room had a little mess more than he usually has. "Someone was here." He spoke to himself. He knew the police were investigating him, but he didn't know how one could have gotten in without him noticing on his house cameras. It was a mystery. At the time, that didn't matter. He had another meeting to attend.
Jim went to get a new pair of dress socks, but found no clean pair left in his sock drawer. He needed to have clothes washed, he realized. He then saw a pair laying on the floor, all clean. He wondered how he had missed that pair. He picked them up and placed them on his bed. As he changed into his suite attire, he put on his dress socks and finished getting ready. He left ten minutes later for an important business meeting.
Drayson wasn't sure whether this was a good or bad thing. He could tell his suspect was heading to a big meeting, but he was now stuck on his feet. It would not have been too bad if not for some other factors. One, the guy didn't shower before changing, so his feet really reeked of foot odor and musk extremely bad. Two, his dress shoes smelled like a rodent had died in it. He really felt like gagging so badly being trapped and surrounded by such a foul stench. At least being walked on wasn't so bad. He was able to dull his pain sensors thanks to training he received by his supervising officers.
The meeting seemed to last a while, but he heard everything. Jim was money laundering almost millions of dollars. He had the evidence to take him down. All he needed to do now was get back to the station with what he knew and where to look, but there was only one problem. Jim was still wearing him. Getting the evidence was good, but he was being tortured by Jim's feet in the process. Several times, Jim would wiggle his toes. That caused the odor from between his toes to spread even more. Being on and surrounded by the foul smell was horrible. He was so ready to be off the guy's feet. He kind of wish he had thought of something else to turn into, but he was short on time at that moment.
Sometime later, Jim got back home from work, undressed and relaxed on his bed. He didn't take his socks off. For some reason, his socks were really comfortable to wear. They didn't seem like normal dress socks. He didn't know why, but he liked the way they felt on his feet. He decided he would wear them for a solid week or two just to see how comfortable they truly were.
ONE MONTH LATER...
Jim was relaxing on this bed after a long day at the office. He was amazed at his socks. He wore them to work every time for a good month, and they never tore or had a hole in them. He didn't know why that was, but he loved it. It meant he didn't have to change dress socks ever again. He could just wear this pair every time. He decided to take a nap on his bed.
Drayson was mentally pleading and crying for Jim to stop wearing him. He was forced to endure stinky experience after stinky experience for the past thirty days. It was horrible. He didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse that Jim didn't know his dress socks were a police officer. But he was so over being a pair of socks, but there was never an opportunity to change back without being noticed. Every night, he was just about stuffed in stinky dress shoes, preventing him from changing back. Then the next morning he would be back on Jim's feet. He could only pray and hope an opportunity would come soon. He didn't want to be stuck as the guy's socks forever.
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