#but i did find a nice (and not too expensive one) online

[noxitsnox]

hairdresser reader- headcanons

hyun-ju x fem!hairdresser reader

summary: hyun-ju needs a haircut

tags: fluff, hyun-ju is some what insecure, hyun-ju past in the military is mentioned like one time, light mention of transphobia, alternating povs ig, really bad english

a/n: i like the idea of this, i hate this. i wanna be more active tho, i won't have anymore exams or tests or anything until the 25 so 🤞🏻🤞🏻

@exactlyinfp

first thing you noticed about her is how hot she was, literally.

her hair are naturally soft and luminous, when she told you she doesn't use much products except shampoo and conditioner you didn't believe her.

she's a bit shy at first, but as the time went one she started to feel more comfortable.

you were used to talking with your clients, but, as much as you loved them, they couldn't compare to hyun-ju at all. talking with her was easy and even if you had just met her you felt like you've known her for ages.

she didn't want a drastic change, so you just fixed her bangs and trimmed the split ends.

as she was leaving you gave her your phone number to book her next appointement. and maybe get to really know each other, but you didn't say that.

hyun-ju too was extremely happy about the whole experience.

you were basically a ray of sunshine become human. she felt confortable with you, something that had never happen to any other saloon.

she wished she could have you as a friend, maybe more.

spending most of her life in the military she could never do much with her hair and ever since she was discharged she money have been tight so she learned how to do her own hair, going to get them professionally cut rarely, when she wanted to spoil herself. there was only one problem: she did not have a trusted hairdresser.

and while if this only happened every few months, finding a new an hairdresser really stressed her out. every saloon she liked was always either closed or booked for months or they were too expensive. and in general she hated going to new places, ever since she started transitioning she was always afraid the owner of the saloon would throw her out. it only happened once or twice but it still happened and it was extremely humiliating.

she found your shop by chance.

a flyer advertising your store ended up on her car. when she got home she tried to search for it online- she found the social media page with a few post of the hair they've done, but since it was a new opening there were no reviews yet. she wouldn't have risked it if it hadn't been for what they were offering to new customers: the first cut and blow-dry were free. and the place for near her home anyway.

---

the saloon was nice, it looked like it came out of a movie and the air smelled like caramel and vanilla. at the entrance there was a small counter with the cash register, behind it a young woman, hair covering her face as she wrote something down in a notebook. hyun-ju approched her with a kind smile and a small "hi".

"hello! how can i help?" now that she could look at her face hyun-ju had to admit that she was really pretty. "do you need to book an appointment?"

"i already have one actually... uhm should be under cho hyun-ju". the girl flipped through the pages of wht hyun-ju recognized being the notebook she was using before. "oh yeah here you are! well, hyun-ju you can go sit on that chair," she said pointing to the only available chair on the other side of the room. "i'll be to you right away!"

[sourfeijoa]

i got excited today cause i saw a beach mat for $8 … i feel like a real adult(tm)

[ronearoundblindly]

Lease

best-friend!roommate!reader x Steve Rogers

*This was a totally random and spontaneous idea. Not edited. Light language (so we can get *the joke*), pining, light angst, hurt/comfort, and fluff. This work is for all ages! WC ~2k

Sam Wilson introduces you. Both your parents were veterans and active at the VA, so you practically grew up there.

At first, you’re reserved, a little formal, but very nice. Oddly enough, Steve just likes that you don’t hound him with questions about his military service and how it was different based on the decade, etc. You are just…around to listen.

He finds himself filling any (comfortable) silence between you with stories. Stupid things. Things that don’t have to do with the VA or his past or even his present, which is entirely work as Captain America.

Steve gets to a point where he is itching to live off of Avengers Campus, but he doesn’t want to live alone.

One day he finds you hunched over a laptop and grumbling, “why is everything so fucking expensive?”

A sentiment which, of course, he frowns at.

“Sorry,” you shrug, a look of sincere apology on your distraught face. “I didn’t realize it, but apparently, I’m poor with my measly three-thousand-dollar-a-month budget for an apartment. Now I have to find a roommate, and—“ you start wagging a finger at him sarcastically “—I don’t know if you’ve noticed there’re some real weirdos out there. It’ll take me longer to find a safe, stable roomie than it takes to—“

“I can move in with you.”

Steve almost gasps at how fast the words fly out of his mouth.

“Well, not ‘move in’ to your current place. I mean. I can—I would be willing to live with you. Sorry! That sounds bad. You’re not bad. I meant…you know, anytime you want to chime in and stop me would be helpful.”

You remain silent and smirking.

“Right. Okay. So…think about it? Or not, that’s fine.”

“Let’s talk figures, Rogers. The square-footage just doubled, and I need to rework the budget.”

Moving in is shockingly uneventful. You’re easy to get along with, when not suddenly up on your high horse about something, and Steve is easy to get along with under the same circumstances. You push his militant rigidity to the brink on purpose, but never too far.

Things sit out in the wrong place, but it’s never dirty. Stuff doesn’t always get returned promptly, but if he asks, you’re on it.

There are two bathrooms, thank mercy.

He has random and odd hours. You work nine to five, mostly. It’s the perfect level of independence without loneliness for Steve.

Sam and Natasha stop by regularly or ask you both out for drinks or to fun, new places.

One time, when Nat is ribbing Steve to go talk to a cute girl ordering at the bar, he panics and takes your hand in his on the tabletop.

“How can I do that when my date is right here?” he grits playfully through his pearly white teeth. “Leave it alone.”

Each word is punctuated by a shift forward and a slight tilt of his head.

Natasha is unamused and instantly grabs your other hand (which was holding your drink) to pull you toward the dance floor.

It’s awkward for multiple reasons. You’d pay a whole month’s rent to know what Sam and Steve talked about after you left.

Sam takes a different approach, luring—or attempting to lure—Steve into setting up just one dating profile online.

“You don’t have to put photos,” Sam assures, “and you can stick with your first name only. I swear to you, man, this’ll be good for you. Get you out there more. Help me out here, Tagalong!”

He turns to you for support. To be fair, you did quite literally tag along with your parents for years to the VA, and it stuck. Why it sticks as a grown-ass adult? You’ll never know. You just don’t mind Sam Wilson saying it because he means well and never uses it in public.

“Uh, nooooo.”

Sam’s face falls. “What?”

You look at Steve and grimace, clicking your tongue. “He’s not ready for that,” you conclude.

Steve jumps out of the chair, arms wide with victory.

“THAT’S WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING!”

“I know you told her to say that,” Sam shouts back.

“Did not,” Steve barks.

“He did not.” You lean against your bedroom doorframe. “I just think it’s obvious.”

That makes Steve deflate a little. “Wait, but…I’m not that bad.”

“Oh gosh,” you fake with a huge smile, “look at the time! Gotta be off to bed…”

The men keep fighting albeit muffled from your side of the wall. The only part you can make out before giving them privacy is Sam, whining, “but you actually like bubble baths and walks on the beach, dude. You’re gonna be money on there.”

“Hey, why do you not, ya know, date?”

You look up from your breakfast, stunned because that came out of nowhere. You’ve lived together over six months now, and Steve hasn’t asked for one iota of personal—well, romantically personal—information.

Twiddling your fork around, you think.

“I always imagine what my parents would think of him, any guy I’ve ever considered being with longterm, and…I was just never proud to say ‘here, here’s the one,’ I guess.”

Your parents have been gone for years. You value their opinion anyway.

“Mhm,” Steve hums, “the one?”

You take a bite of food, straightening your back, tossing a dismissive hand in the air. “Yeah, if you believe in that sort of thing.”

He’s quiet for a while.

“So you’re waiting for the right partner?” Steve finally mutters, and he watches your noncommittal gesturing intently.

That was a ‘yes.’

Natasha knows. Sam knows. Steve suspects but won’t admit to anything. You are kind and unreadable.

You’ve always been kind, so there’s no discernible difference to signal you have feelings for him in return. He can’t bring himself to be anything less than a gentleman at home and makes absolutely no moves to find out.

He stays out in the living room a lot more, all hours, hoping you’ll mention staying in for a movie, praying you’ll be tired enough to fall asleep on his lap on the couch.

He’s in way too deep.

What Steve suspects is that it would be too awkward to start anything while living together, but he doesn’t want to leave you in the lurch for rent or a roommate. He also desperately doesn’t want to move out. The status quo is comfortable.

He loves being comfortable with you.

The stress of not telling you, while needing to make some sort of arrangements should telling you blow up in his face, starts to wear on him.

Steve is a pro at compartmentalizing his life, so it’s when he’s stuck at the apartment without any missions, a handful of meetings, and a team that all have lives for two long months that he cracks…in the least attractive way.

He’s messed up his sleep schedule with worry and playing innocent, and out of the not-so-blue, a horrible, vivid nightmare hits him. Steve isn’t even on the mattress anymore by the time he figures out there wasn’t carpet like this in Germany and the desk chair he grips is not a motorcycle.

“Rogers,” he hears. “Rogers, can you look at me?”

The dark room is somehow hollow and stifling all at once. His head turns slower than his brain tells it to.

Steve blinks.

“Do you know where you are?”

“Hey, sweets,” he husks from a dry throat. “What…”

“Can you tell me where this is?” You step closer and pry one of his hands off the mesh to cradle in yours. “Where are we, Rogers?”

“Home.” He swallows. “Our home.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, but you nod like he’s done well.

“Okay, Steve, I’m going to get you some water. If you want—“ your fingers smooth over the back of his hand, nudging the other to release the chair “—you can sit on the bed.”

You don’t leave. You don’t even get up from the floor.

He doesn’t notice he’s clutching your hands, shaking slightly until long seconds go by.

“Yeah. Okay.” Steve lets go, otherwise unmoving, contemplating how he ever thought the semi-rough industrial carpet felt the same as mud.

You carefully hand him the water and rub his back, using your nails to trace invisible patterns. He can’t remember what he was so scared of a minute ago. He only knows he’s sweating that empty kind of confused.

“What’s that supposed to do?” he asks absently.

You shrug. “Eh. Back scratches just feel good.”

Steve’s mind remains blank as he sips his water.

: We need to renew the lease soon. Like this week.

Steve has stalled as long as humanly possible; he is officially not being a gentleman now. He is a coward.

: Talk about it when I get home?

: Could you at least tell me if this is a hard NO on staying here or just some concerns/questions? : I don’t get why you’re being like this.

Steve gets it, but he hates it.

: I’ll be back tonight. Should I pick up food?

: ffs : Fine. Whatever you want.

Steve also hates when you’re mad at him…which has been happening more and more.

He’s been distant, he refuses to let Sam or Nat come around for fear they’ll play match-maker and ruin the whole thing, and he is about to ruin the whole thing anyway.

Because he is not smooth. Because he is not prepared. Because he’s built up this perfect and amazing, sweep-you-off-your-feet moment.

And he bungles it.

“Out with it,” you command, haughtily yanking your portion of food from the countertop beside him, heading for the dinette.

“I want to be with you,” he blurts.

“Thank god,” you sigh, settling in your spot. “So we’ll go down to the office and sign in the morning. I don’t want there to be an issue if you’re off to wherever for who-the-hell-knows how long on the date the thing expires.”

“No, I…” but Steve’s voice is too quiet.

“There’s only a tiny window where they’re open before I have to head to work, so let me physically sign first, right? Then I gotta go.”

“Sure,” he slurs.

“Steve?” You turn to see him staring down at his food. He’s still across the room. “Are you okay?”

“I said I—I meant that—“ he huffs out his breath and taps his fist on the counter “—I meant that I’m an idiot,” he finishes softly.

Approaching with that beautiful, open-hearted kindness that haunts his days and soothes his night, you cross to him, scratching his back just the way he’s grown to crave.

“Think you might be hangry,” you chuckle.

He cannot do this. Steve is hanging on by a thread until the graze of your hand slides down his forearm to take his plate, and he spins.

He’s thought about kissing you so many times, he mapped out the angles he’d have to hold himself at, how far he needs to lean to get to you, the care to take wrangling in his strength and sheer excitement.

Steve Rogers is good at planning, at least, this part.

Gentle pecks of his plush lips to yours leave gaps in contact that let you whimper, and he fears you stopping him. He presses, wrapping his arms around you and molding your bodies together. The linoleum of the kitchen floor makes sticky sounds beneath your shuffling feet, squeaking once you hit the adjacent wall.

The force of that knocks your frozen arms into his chest, and painfully, Steve relents to step away, but not far. He bites his bottom lip and tastes the balm from yours, his head tilted in shame but fiery eyes watching you from beneath long lashes.

“Oh,” you breathe out. “Oh…you meant…”

Steve’s tongue darts out hungrily.

“Yeah.”

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

They're soooo cute!!!!!!

[pha55ed]

Winter Wonderland || F1/F2

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: none

contains :: carlos, charles, lando, oscar, max, ollie, paul, pepe

summary :: decorating your home together for the holiday season with the drivers

xmas celly here! || f1 masterlist || f2 masterlist

Carlos Sainz | 55

Very vintage, and rich looking

It's a true money style of richness, with a big ass tree filled with presents underneath it

There's even ribbons on all the gifts

Why? Because his mom and other family members are so rich and retired that they're fucking bored and added it

Most likely you live with him and he just reuses the same ornaments and stuff from last year

But you don't care, it's so pretty

But!!!! You two get a little custom ornament that's really cute

Probably your anniversary date or smth on it

Charles Leclerc | 16

A nice rich Christmas too, but more sleek and modern-ish

He loved decorating as a kid with his siblings but now that he has his own tree??? Man that's so much work

He'll let you take care of the tree and most of the decor, but he doesn't just sit on his ass

He'll help pick the items, theme, etc

And also help put up the heavy duty stuff, like lights around the house and stuff

But putting each and every flower into the reefs??? Oh noooo he's suddenly so soreeee nooooo

After like 10 ornaments, he's suddenly complaining and saying "my physical therapist told me it's bad to do repetitive motions"

He's a liar but you don't even care, cause he bought everything for you

And he'll give you constant praise in person and online for your decorating skills

Lando Norris | 04

Frat boy party vibes but honestly,,, I fuck with it

Tons of colors, lights, and it's so fun to look at

Loves decorating with you and making it very chaotic

And also very ghetto...

This man doesn't even use staples or tape to hold up the lights on the wall

Why? Because he couldn't find any and didn't wanna go out to get them

So now your lights are being held up by wood glue... or your eyelash glue that he stole... or any random sticky substance...

No he doesn't use old condoms, don't think that

Oscar Piastri | 81

He don't gaf

However YOU want to decorate, he obeys

Whether that's an all pink tree, ugly ahh skinny tree that holds one ornament, or the biggest more extravagant Christmas ever

If his beautiful partner tells him to stfu he stfu, like a good boyfriend

And even better???

He not only pays for any decoration you want, no matter how expensive or stupid it is (he just loves seeing you happy)

But he also helps put up and cleans EVERYTHING

He's up on the roof decorating, cleaning the fireplace just to make it pretty, and even re-arranging the entire living room just for you to have the perfect spot for the tree

Some call him whipped

I call him a real man

Max Verstappen | 01

He also don't gaf

But, not in the Oscar way

He fr doesn't gaf at all

Expect an ugly ass tree, or most likely not even a tree

If you're lucky, you'll get the strip of reef in the pic above

But there's a very high chance that you'll just get a printed photo of a Christmas tree that's hung on the wall

BUT he does love stupid Christmas decor

So things like a funny statue, a creepy elf on the shelf, etc are all very welcomed

Luckily, Max isn't an asshole and will 10000% celebrate however you like at all

He's just gonna follow your lead and do whatever is needed from it... With minimal effort firstly...

Oliver Bearman | 87

Like Max, but really cute and funny

He has the Christmas spirit and loves it very much

One thing he did that's very very cute is that he ordered those big inflatable

But he didn't check the size...

So now you have a 35feet tall Satan in your yard!!! Yay!!!

He's in the Christmas spirit and he got the right idea

Maybe he doesn't have the skill to decorate it,,, but he has the spirit!

Paul Aron | 17

A classy and modern Christmas

Most likely white and a bit of a snow theme going on

Mixed with black too, cause that's his aesthetic ya know

He's very active when it comes to decorating

Always helping you pick what to get, which matches each other, etc

He's also very worried about the measurements, so he always makes sure to take note of the space you have to make sure everything fits

Also helps you put everything up, it's so sweet and domestic

Like: he holds your waist while you stand on the ladder to put the star up

Pepe Marti | 21

I'm mad at him rn cause why is every photo of him so bad

But he's so painfully unaware of the fact that he's tall

The tree only has ornament son the top

All the lights and decorations are put where you can't even see

And he keeps assigning you tasks that you cannot reach

Which he learns to take note of, always laughing at you before saying sorry

The decoration is very warm and homey

Definitely the type to bring over his friends to have dinner all together

His home isn't crazy decorated, but still nice and cozy

Which perfectly matches your relationship's vibes

[flightyalrighty]

…I find it lowkey weird when someone says Sonic is bit of bully or mean in your comic.

I know you have him take after Archie and Fleetway, but he feels normal to me?

Or is it because I grew up with Sonic media that had him being abrasive that I got used to it..?

This image of being this -perfectly nice- hedgehog that people get from him kinda makes me wonder constantly, do you know how he was back then?

Would you perceive him the same way if you gotten to known him a bit later excluding the older comics?

SEGA has kept a few things consistent with Sonic and one of them being he was always this dude with an attitude. for better or for worse. That didn't mean he didn't care for anyone, it's just part of who he is. Once you can see past that, you know that despite his meanness, he's a solid guy that means well.

(I got a few asks in a short span of time so I hope I'm lining up the correct follow-up with the original here)

So! Okay. So, here's the thing about Sonic and his whole "attitude" thing. These days, canonically, it's kinda non-existent? Sonic's personality got sandpapered (in the games) until it was nice and smooth for the past, uhhh, like deca -- No, not even. I think he's actually been like this since 2005.

Like sure, he'll make a few lame jokes at Eggman's expense in the Meta Era but like. He's a ray of sunshine to everyone else (besides that one thing they got rid of in the Sonic Gens "remaster" with Amy). He's not even GENUINELY mean to Knuckles the way he used to be. There is no actual beef there, it's really just friendly banter he's having with his friends.

Even more about this below cut vvv

The main sources of Sonic Attitude™ I ever experienced growing up was that little itty bit left within Sonic Heroes and MOSTLY just Archie Sonic (and some STC Online reading I did as a kid) and Sonic X. Make no mistake, Sonic definitely had a range of "Attitude" to "Asshole" in those works. It just wasn't present in the games. So if you were a kid growing up and only knew Sonic FROM the games, that so-called attitude was gonna be minimal if you're age 30 or under.

And any attitude he gave would be only to people he perceived to be enemies (or Jet the Hawk).

Jump forward in time to the end of the Meta era, and we've come to a point in which Sonic is very nice. He's everyone's cool big brother. He's a "friend to all children." The perfect role model. He's very nice in Sonic Prime. In IDW, some fans would even argue he's TOO nice. TOO forgiving. To this I say, it is what it is. I just don't believe Sonic's mean-ness level is all that consistent. Perhaps someday we'll see that attitude again. Perhaps.

Now, to finally address your initial comment: I am the one who says this. I am the one who says he is mean in Infested. And! That's because he's written that way.

This isn't modern nice Sonic, but this also isn't Attitude Guy from the 90s/early 2000s. This is a secret third thing. And by that I mean he's an amalgamation of STC Sonic and Archie Sonic. He's done a lot of learning and growing and he doesn't want to hurt his friends, but his first instinct is harsh, snippy commentary or outright lashing out. He has learned and has to bury that horrible little monster inside him. For Tails's sake.

[bitethedevil]

A House of Hope (Modern!AU Raphael x Tav): Chapter 1

Read this fic on AO3

Next Chapter

Fic summary: Tav lives at her mom's place after a tough break-up with her former boyfriend. Rent isn't cheap anywhere, but one day her mom finds her someone online who presents a tempting new living situation that won't break her bank account.

Tav moves into the Haven estate and becomes a part of Raphael's House of Hope project: a project that helps unfortunate souls to get back on their feet. Although, something is not quite right about the house and her fellow tenants. That's not to mention her odd landlord who seems to be hiding something...

AN: I've been wanting to write a Modern!AU with this bastard since forever. Here we are. It's not entirely a Modern!AU but that will make sense later. Warrning: This fic contains some heavy subjects such as substance abuse, dementia, death, homelessness, and mental illness.

Tav was lying on the couch, sipping a beer and scrolling through apartments listings on her laptop.

She was utterly fucked.

Finding an apartment was hell. It hadn’t been easy when she first moved out four years ago with her boyfriend either and that had been with two incomes. She was a university student with a shitty low paying job as a cleaning lady on the side. 

Though she couldn’t live at her mom’s place forever. They were driving each other insane. She needed to get as far away from that woman as humanly possible. Her mom was constantly in her business, and it was driving her up the wall.

She huffed and shut her laptop with a smack after yet another disappointing search. Everywhere that she could afford rent, the deposit was so expensive that you could almost buy a small house for it outside the city.

She placed her laptop on the coffee table and gave up for the day. She grabbed the blanket at the end of the couch and pulled it over her. Her eyes closed for another back-breaking sleep on her mother’s couch.

Tav stirred awake when she heard her mom come home in the morning. The door was slammed, the keys clinking loudly as they were thrown on the table in the foyer, and of course she made sure to crinkle the bag in her hands as loudly as humanly possible. She did it on purpose to wake her up.

“It’s noon, darling,” her mom shouted from the kitchen. “You shouldn’t sleep all day, it will give you a headache.”

You give me a headache, Tav thought before reluctantly opening her eyes. She grabbed her phone on the coffee table and pulled out the charger to check the time.

“It’s nine in the fucking morning,” she groaned. “Let me sleep.”

“Yes, but I want to go about my day, and I can’t do that with you snoring in my living room.”

Tav sighed at the cheery yet incredibly condescending tone.

She had really not missed living with her. Especially now that she seemed to have changed so much with her ‘staying positive’ bullshit and playing caring mother all of a sudden. It was somehow worse than when they just yelled at each other like when she was a child.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“Coffee?” her mom asked from the kitchen.

“Sure,” she replied.

“I have something for you,” her mom continued from the kitchen. “A really nice man contacted me on Facebook, and we met today to talk about you.”

Tav closed her eyes and took a deep, tired breath.

“Remember when we had that talk about online safety and pyramid schemes a little while ago?”

“Yes, yes,” her mom said. “But this isn’t like that. This is about your living situation. I saw pictures and everything. This is perfect for you, and it’s very cheap too.”

“Mhm…”

Her mom came around the corner with a cup of coffee for her. Tav forced a smile and muttered a ‘thanks’ as she took it.

“There’s pictures.”

“You mentioned…”

Her mom sat down in the armchair beside the couch. She grabbed her reading glasses from the table and pulled out her phone. Tav watched as she struggled to use it.

“Do you want help?”

“No, I got it,” she replied, “Oh, here. Look.”

Tav squinted at the screen as her mom showed her picture after picture. Tav smiled and then burst into laughter.

“Mom…” she said. “This is such a scam. That is literally a manor, not student housing.”

“No, listen,” her mom protested. “I met with the owner, and it’s real. All the parts of the house I just showed you have been made into apartments. It’s perfect, Tilda. There’s nature around and it’s far away from the city…”

So that you can’t get into trouble with your connections in said city, was what she really meant. So that you can’t contact your drug-dealing, deadbeat ex-boyfriend who you lived with for four years…who you still love but can’t be with because you can’t handle being near drugs at the moment.

“…It’s beautiful, and it has so much history. The owner told me. You wouldn’t have to think about a thing, since there is everything you could ever need there. There’s even a little shop a short walk away, so that you don’t have to worry about taking a bus to get groceries! Isn’t that great?”

“Okay, okay,” Tav said and held her hands up to stop her. “Let’s play your little fantasy game and say that this place is real, which it is not…”

“It is real,” her mom stated again. “It’s a part of this Hope program or whatever he called it.”

“Right, whatever,” Tav said. “How would I even get to my lectures if it’s in the middle of nowhere? What about my job?”

“There’s a little bus that drives the residents to the nearest bus stop,” her mom continued in an excited tone. “How do you think the other residents get around? Besides, he told me that some of the other people living there just work at the manor. So, you would only have to leave to go to your classes.”

“Feudalism is alive and well, I see. How wonderful…” Tav mumbled and sipped her coffee. “I don’t know, mom. This so clearly seems like a scam, especially if you say that it’s cheap.”

Her mom sighed in frustration.

“I will have the nice man call you,” she said. “I can send him your number and then you can talk with him yourself. You can’t stay here forever, darling. Give it a chance.”

Tav rolled her eyes. She knew that she would have to do it in order for her mom to shut up about it. She had gotten her stubbornness from her, unfortunately.

“Fine,” Tav grumbled and sipped her coffee. “Give my private phone number to some scamming weirdo then. I’ll talk to him.”

Tav was sweeping the sticky floors of the kindergarten she cleaned in when she felt her phone vibrate in her back pocket. The number wasn’t one she recognized. She picked it up and then put it on speaker before laying it on a table. She was the only one in the building anyway and she had to finish her work.

“Yeah, hello?”

 “Do I have the pleasure of speaking with Tilda Avon?” A deep, smooth voice rang through the phone.

“You do,” she replied. “Who is this?”

“You are speaking with Raphael, the owner of the Haven estate,” the voice spoke. “Your mother informed me that you might be interested in knowing more about our House of Hope project.”

The name made it sound like it was some weird program for stray dogs or orphans. She rolled her eyes.

“Sure,” she said in a forced, friendly tone. “Though I’m currently in the middle of work, sir, so if I could get back to you, that would be lovely.”

“I will keep it brief then. I was calling to ask if you would not rather see the estate for yourself? I have an apartment that has been freshly renovated that I can offer you. Does tomorrow at two fit into your schedule?”

“You know, I think I might have a thing there, unfortunately.”

“How odd,” the voice spoke with a tinge of amusement. “Your mother assured me that you had no plans…but of course, I can accommodate with a later time if that fits better into your no doubt very busy schedule.”

These scammer types were always so persistent. Tav pressed her lips together in frustration.

“Tomorrow at two sounds good,” she said in a forced, cheery tone.

“Splendid.”

“How do I get there?”

“I will have a car sent for you,” the voice spoke. “I look forward to meeting you, Tilda.”

“Likewise,” she gritted out and ended the call.

She took a deep breath. She was going to kill her mother.

Her jaw dropped slightly as the house came into view from the car window. She had seen the pictures, but it was huge. A monolith of Elizabethan architecture.

The car came to a stop outside the stairs up to the main entrance. A middle-aged man with dark hair and a charming smile came down to greet her. He opened the car door for her and gave her a hand to get out.

“Welcome to Haven,” he said. She recognized the voice from the call she received the day before. “You must be Tilda then. Or Miss Avon, if you prefer. A pleasure to properly meet you.”

“It’s just Tav, actually,” she said with a slightly forced polite smile. “Only my mother calls me Tilda. Nice to meet you too, sir.”

“Tav, is it?” he repeated as if to see if he pronounced it right.

“T. Avon, Tav,” she explained. “There were two Tilda’s in my class when I was a kid. It just kind of stuck. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t catch your last name when you called me?”

“Just Raphael,” he said with a smile and gestured for her to follow him.

Raphael pushed open the doors to the main house and started leading her through it. It was disgustingly lavish inside.

“This is the main part of the house,” he explained. “This is where I live. If you choose to stay with us, you will be living in the outer eastern wing. You will have a shared entrance with your neighbor, but besides that, you have total privacy as you would with any apartment in the city.”

“Right.”

She looked at all the portraits they passed. No doubt they were of the former owners of the house, but she could not help noticing that none of them looked like him. They were all pale, blue-eyed ladies and lords that looked nothing like the olive-skinned and brown-eyed Raphael.

“Should I spare you the history lesson?” he asked and turned to her with a smile while they walked. “I find that so many who come here have already done their research on Google and Wikipedia and whatnot.”

He spoke the names of the sites as a true middle-aged man who had never touched a computer before.

“I haven’t really done any research, no. You can still spare me the history lesson, though. I’m really only here for a place to live.”

“I can appreciate your honesty,” he said with a slight chuckle. “Very well. Let us keep it brief then: This manor has been in my family for centuries and it is very old.”

“Great,” Tav said with a smile at his brief description.

“I will show you the highlights and then leave you to explore for yourself, should you choose to stay here,” he said. “You will be given a map over the entire estate and its side buildings. Too often have new tenants gotten lost trying to find their way back to their apartments.”

“Sounds great. My sense of direction has always been a bit lacking.”

She turned around when she heard footsteps following them over the marble floor. An older man with greying hair was following them around, she noticed. Raphael turned too when he saw her looking.

“John,” Raphael called out in a smooth tone. “Come greet our guest.”

John avoided the gaze of both of them and stayed put. Raphael looked at her and then smiled before they kept walking.

“John is a bit shy,” he said and then leaned in to whisper. “He is at that age where he forgets. His mind is starting to go…”

“Ah,” Tav said.

“Though the House of Hope project welcomes anyone,” he said. “Most of the residents here have one issue or the other that makes living elsewhere difficult. Your mother told me about your little…indulgence problem.”

She almost froze at how he just threw it out there. She quickly tried to gather herself again.

“I don’t know what my mom has told you,” she quickly said. “She has a tendency to exaggerate. I don’t have a drug problem. I had a problem, but it’s done. I’m clean…and have no access to them any longer, besides.”

“I am not here to judge you, Tav,” he said in a sympathetic tone. “Like I said, we welcome anyone. Now. Should I show you where you will be living?”

She was still a bit thrown off, but she gave him a nod. He smiled and turned to call out to the old man who was still trailing them.

“John, would you be a dear and fetch me the tenancy agreement?” Raphael said and then turned back to her. “Come.”

The apartment was nice. Really nice. It was much bigger than the shoebox apartments she could afford in the city. It had everything she needed too: a private bathroom, a bedroom, a modest but nice living room, and even a small kitchen.

Its furniture was in the same red and gold color scheme as the rest of the house. The apartment itself was no mansion, but it would probably be the fanciest place she had ever lived in regardless.

“You can replace the furniture in here with your own, if you please,” Raphael said. “Though, please do not paint or make new holes in the walls. Other than that, this would all be yours to do with as you please.”

“It’s really nice,” she had to admit and then looked at him. “How much?”

There was a quiet knock on the door. He smiled and opened the door where the old man was waiting outside with a few papers. Raphael took them from him.

“Thank you,” he said to John and then handed the tenancy agreement to her. “Everything you need to know is in here.”

She skimmed over the text until she got to the numbers. Her eyes widened and she looked up at Raphael.

“You’re kidding?” she said. “This is practically nothing considering the state of this place.”

Raphael gave a shrug, a smile still plastered on his face.

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“What’s the catch? There must be something I’m missing.”

“No catch, I can assure you,” he said. “What you see is what you get, my dear.”

Her eyes narrowed further. She scratched her head and looked over the apartment again, as if looking for some deadly fungus growing in the corners or water dripping from the ceiling that she had missed. Nothing.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” she said. “You’re obviously not doing this for profit, so what is it then?”

“Charity, mostly,” he said. “I have no family left here and it gets lonesome living alone in this grand stone tomb. I have no lack of space and there is no lack of unfortunate people who deserve a fresh start. It would be a sin to keep it all to myself. Besides, I rather like the company of the tenants living here.”

“Hm,” she hummed, almost convinced.

She looked at down at the tenancy agreement again. Raphael sat down in an armchair and gestured for her to sit in the one opposite him.

“Yes, please, read it through carefully before you sign on the dotted line. If you have any questions, do not feel shy to ask.”

She nodded. Her eyes skimmed over the letters as carefully as they could with the pressure of Raphael sitting there, watching her closely while she read it through. After a few minutes she nodded again and then looked up at him.

“Do you have a pen?”

A wide smile spread over his face as he produced a pen from his jacket pocket and handed it to her.

Once Raphael left the apartment, she walked around a bit. She threw herself on her new bed and then took out her phone. She found her mom’s name in her contacts and called her up.

“Yes darling? Did you say yes?” her mom’s voice spoke through the phone.

“I did—”

She was interrupted by the sound of excitement from her mom who quickly began babbling about something.

“Yeah, great, sure,” she said and interrupted her mom’s excited rambling. “Mom, why did you tell my new landlord that I have a problem with drugs? Could you please not air my dirty laundry to strangers in the future?”

“Oh, you are so sensitive, Tilda,” her mom said. “I only did it because he said that it was a place for unfortunate people, and I thought if I told him he would be more inclined to let you stay there. And it worked, so you’re welcome.”

“In the future, don’t tell people about that, yeah? Who else have you told?”

There was silence from the other end of the line.

“Mom?”

“I might have told Ms. Nguyen from downstairs and Timothy from work, but I needed someone to share the burden with, darling.”

“The burden of my personal issues? You are unbelievable,” Tav said with a scoff. “It’s not as if I was doing lines off your toilet or smoking weed at your place. I haven’t touched any of that since Luke and I broke up.”

“Do you want a medal for that? You shouldn’t have touched it in the first place.”

Tav gritted her teeth.

“Don’t turn this on me just because we were talking about something you did. Just…respect my privacy a little bit. That’s all I’m asking. I don’t feel like fighting right now. It’s been a long day.”

There was a beat of silence from the other line.

“Is it nice?” her mom said, changing the subject entirely. “It’s pretty, isn’t it? It looked so pretty in the pictures. I can bring you your things tomorrow if I can get Timothy to drive me there. Oh, it’s going to be so good for you, darling. Are there other people your age living there?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t met the others. I’ve only talked to that Raphael guy.”

“Oh well, get out there then. It’s good to know your neighbors. Make a good first impression. I have to go, but you have fun and tell me all about it, yes?”

“Right. Bye.”

She closed the call with a sigh.

She looked around her new apartment once again and took a deep breath, shaking off the frustrations she had felt at her mother’s words.

A chance to start over, she thought. She felt a sliver of positivity, of hope, for the first time in a long time.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 8

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: You see Elvis perform for the first time in person and it is more than you've ever dreamed of. Then later, you have a much needed conversation with him.

TW: Unprotected sex, smut, pain kink

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3474

A/N: It finally happened!! Super excited about this chapter!

Waking up in the morning, you half expect the light to be on, but it's dark, almost completely save for the barely rising sun peeking through the blinds. Elvis must've turned the light off at some point in the night. After you asked him to stay, he held you until you fell asleep, which didn't prove to take very long. You were emotionally drained.

Looking over at the digital alarm clock, it reads 7:43A.M. As your eyes adjust more to the room, you look around for Elvis, but he's gone. Suddenly your heart aches.

He didn't stay.

You're not sure what you were expecting, but you thought he might've stayed with you throughout the night. Maybe it's for the best that he hadn't. You shouldn't get attached to him. You sigh as you pull the covers away from your body. Flipping on the light, you're about to head into the bathroom to shower when you see something on your bedside table. Approaching slowly, you see a note.

Hi baby,

I'm sorry I left you. I had to be up early to practice a song in the jungle room. I had breakfast made for you and if you'd like it, you can come down and watch for a little while. I'd like it if you did.

P.S. I thought Sonny was a little shit for getting that bookmark. I guess I wanted to give you something too.

~Elvis~

You don't realize the stupid smile plastered on your face as you look just to the right of the note and see a beautiful silver bracelet with a diamond in the middle. It looks so expensive.

"Oh God," you mumble a tear coming to your eye as you quickly swipe it away, slipping it onto your wrist.

It fits perfectly.

Your heart strains as you bring your hand to it. You almost can't believe it. Opening the drawer, you grab your romance book, opening the front page and placing the note there for safe keeping.

Heading to the bathroom, you decide you might put a little more effort into your appearance today.

---

You've just finished breakfast and sit at the table, suddenly frozen. Your hand comes to your new bracelet, a sigh leaving your lips. You've never seen Elvis sing in real life, just videos online. Taking one last drink of your coffee, you stand up from your seat, smoothing out your dress.

Maybe you dressed up a little too much. Looking down at your dress, it's the second nicest one you could find. You're wearing a floral jumper dress that looks like it was taken straight out of a magazine. Since Elvis is the one that bought it, you imagine it might've been.

Walking over to the stairs, your hand grabs the railing to steady yourself as you slowly descend the steps. After a few short steps down, the music starts swelling. Then Elvis' voice. Taking a calming breath as you approach the door, you turn the knob, slowly opening it.

For about the dozenth time since you've been in 1961, you can't believe your eyes. As you slowly walk down the last few steps, you watch as Elvis is lost in a song, There's Always Me. Sonny, Jerry, and a few other of Elvis' friends are off to the side of him, watching him. You see an open space on one of the couches and decide to take it. Sitting gently as to not interrupt, you are entranced. He sweats slightly as he wipes his face, his body swaying with the slow song.

"Hey, honey. You look real nice this morning," Sonny whispers suddenly.

You hadn't noticed that he moved from his previous position on a seperate couch. You almost don't respond, you don't want to take your eyes away from the man singing in front of you. It is beyond anything you've ever seen before. When you register what Sonny has just said to you, a blush comes to your face.

"Thank you Sonny," you whisper back.

He studies just how entranced you are.

"Ah, yeah, he's pretty great isn't he? He just get's lost up there, in the music."

You nod your head, your eyes traveling back to him. You suddenly feel very lucky.

"Yes, he is."

Elvis' eyes connect with yours at that very moment. He smiles. You have to force yourself not to hide your face as you look away, your heart jumping in your chest.

---

Opening the romance book, Loyal and all, you sit on one of the arm chairs in the living room. You figure it's time to start reading this to not arouse suspicion as to why you are never seen reading, having only read the time travel book in the confines of your bedroom.

Flipping to the first page, you read the first few sentences. A doctor and his nurse are arguing. The nurse’s mother had decided she is to travel with them on their journey to Budapest. The doctor is trying to convince her to make her mother leave.

"But you can stop her, surely? Or your father can stop her.""No." Marika shook her head and smiled suddenly, showing wonderful teeth. "She is like me. It is not so easy to tell her what she may do or not do."

You decide you like Marika as you settle further into the chair, the book enticing you.

You read on for a little further until your attention keeps getting pulled out. It's the couch. Your eyes keep drifting over to it. Sighing, you move to dog ear the book, then remember the bookmark Sonny gave you that currently sits on on of the tables upstairs. You'll have to remember to grab it next time.

Dog-earring the book, you close it and place it in your lap, gazing at the long sofa. How can something as simple as a couch transport you back in time over sixty years. It just doesn't make sense. You try to conjure up memories from that day, but nothing that you don't already know comes up. You started to feel nauseous, you got a piercing headache, you sat down for one moment on the sofa and you were suddenly back in 1961.

You wish you are back in your room right now, reading your time travel book to try and see if anything can help you. You wish you had your phone. Elvis had kept your items hidden away after you'd left his room, and you don't imagine your phone would work in this time regardless.

Elvis will probably want a conversation with you at some point soon. How much could you tell him? What would he ask you?

You also wonder if he'll bring up last night. You wouldn't know what to say. You are still so jumbled in your mind about it. You can't have a connection with him, you aren't even supposed to be here. You are so engrossed in your own thoughts, you don't hear someone approaching.

"Hey (y/n) I'm about to head out and pick up a few things. Is there anything you need?"

You jump as you whip your head in the direction of the voice, your heart leaping in surprise.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare ya'" Sonny laughs, his eyes searching yours inquisitively.

"Oh, it's alright," you laugh in relief. "Um, not that I can think of. Thank you, Sonny."

He nods, looking at the book resting in your lap, absent of the bookmark. Your face burns, you're not entirely sure why. You don't have feelings for Sonny, but you're starting to suspect that he may have feelings for you.

---

You smooth out your dress and you try to contain your nerves. After dinner, Elvis asked you if you would meet him back in the jungle room, just the two of you, at 7:30. You knew this conversation was coming, but you're not entirely sure if you're ready for it. You don't know if you ever would be.

You release a breath, your hands becoming clammy as you turn the same knob you had this morning. Closing it behind you, you cautiously descend the steps.

"Ah, there you are. Come on, honey, I've been waitin' for ya," you hear the familiar voice before you see it.

Walking down a few more steps, Elvis’ face finally comes into view. He is already looking your direction, a soft smile on his face. His gaze momentarily travels down your body, taking in your dress, before playing it off by looking down at a box he placed on the coffee table. The same box that contains all of your items. Your stomach drops slightly.

Approaching further, you see a bottle of whiskey with two glasses. You raise your eyebrow as you approach him. He chuckles as he follows your gaze.

"Well, I know I won't be able to be sober for some of the stuff we talk about. Do they still drink in your time?"

You snort as a thrill runs through you. You're about to get the opportunity to finally talk about this with someone. Then you look towards the shut door, and back at him.

"Are you sure no one will be able to hear us?"

He shakes his head, motioning for you to sit down before responding. You take a seat across from him before he sits down at the opposite chair. So formal, not like last night.

"No, there's not much sound that gets upstairs from here. The boys are going out tonight anyway. And, just to make sure no one comes down here," he starts before getting out of his seat, disappearing momentarily up the steps before you hear a lock click, him walking back down a moment later.

"Now we can be sure we won't be disturbed."

A lump forms in your throat suddenly. You barely know him and you'll be talking to him about things that sound completely ridiculous. How will he react?

Picking up the liquor, he pops the top off before pouring himself a glass. Then he looks at you, his eyebrow raising in question. Why the hell not? It won't be any easier for you.

"Sure."

---

The first thing he asks you is how you got here in the first place. You explain how you were having a tour of his house and you suddenly felt very sick and sat on his couch. Then you were just...here. In 1961.

"I give tours of my house?" he inquires, confusion on his face.

You hesitate. Should you tell him he died? Looking at his face, his young twenty-six year old face, you think no. You can't tell him that. Besides, telling him only what is completely necessary would probably be your safest course of action.

"Your fans really wanted to tour your house, it just started happening one day."

At this he lets out a surprised chuckle.

"I still have fans in your time?"

You look at him, genuine surprise on his face. Your heart swells, you just want to reach out and touch his cheek, remind yourself he's actually here with you.

"You have no idea how much you still affect people."

Maybe you wouldn't have said it if you hadn't had a shot and a half of whiskey, but your glad you did.

His eyes connect with yours as a blush appears on his face. He picks up his glass, swirling the liquid around.

"You're really a fan, huh?"

You blush.

"Yes. Not crazy or anything, but I love your voice."

"Can I ask you somethin' else?"

You are terrified he's going to ask if he's dead, but you answer anyway.

"Yes."

"Do I have a good career?" His eyes are pleading with you to tell him something positive, so you do.

"Yes, you do."

---

Elvis can't stop laughing. You start giggling too. The two of you have had way too much alcohol, but you don't care. It's the first time you're having fun since you've been here.

"You gotta be shittin' me," he laughs out, his hands coming to wipe tears from his eyes.

"I'm not! It's my phone," you laugh.

"That ain't no phone! That's a- it's a tv or somethin'."

You tried to turn on your phone, but it's completely drained of battery, so you just described to Elvis what exactly it does.

"This is a phone, baby," Elvis slurs slightly, moving to get off the chair, walking to a side table a few feet away from him where there is a rotary phone resting.

He picks it up and pretends to have a conversation before slamming it down. "That's a damn phone," he laughs, letting himself fall on the couch, closer to your chair.

"Some people get those phones for decoration. They call it vintage," you hiccup out, your cheeks pink.

"Vintage! Hell, I can't take this," he howls.

As you laugh with him as you try to calm yourself. Getting up as well, you walk over to the phone, picking it up and turning it over in your hands before putting it up to your ear, hearing the dial tone.

This is crazy.

Turning back around, you let yourself fall on the couch next to Elvis. His gaze travels to you as his eyes get hazy. He looks at your lips. Your heart leaps in your chest. You look at his.

"What year did you say you were from?"

"2024."

"You're shittin' me," he gasps, his mouth hanging open slightly.

You shake your head.

"I'm not. I was so freaked out. And then I saw you and freaked out, then you kissed me and I-" you stop, your face burning.

He turns his body, scooting closer to you. You can feel his body heat as he leans forward.

"Did you like it...when I kissed you?" he mumbles, his breath washing over you.

A small voice inside your head tells you that you shouldn't be doing this. Right now though, you can't find it within you to care.

"Yes," you whisper, leaning in towards him.

Suddenly, his palm is cupping your cheek as he leans in further, his lips connecting with yours. This time, you respond as you deep the kiss, your legs coming to crawl ever so closer, straddling him. He hums in response as he moves his hands to your waists.

"Are there any boys like me in the future?"

You giggle into his mouth.

"No," you breathe.

"I'll have to make sure you get your time's worth then, shouldn't I?" he mumbles, his hands traveling down to your thighs, grasping them gently as he lays you back against the couch.

You hum in agreement, your hands coming to muss his hair, eliciting a groan from his lips, his mouth connecting back to yours as he hovers on top of you, his hips dipping down to yours.

You moan as you feel his erection, pressing up into it as your hands travel to his shirt, slipping underneath. He is quick to help you as attempts to undo the buttons, fumbling.

"Damn it, I don't have the time," he murmurs before just ripping it, buttons flying.

You gasp in surprise before a laugh escapes you as he shimmies out of it, throwing it on the floor. He looks to you his eyes gleaming as a toothy smile plays on his face. Leaning forward, he brings his lips back to yours, slipping his tongue inside. Sighing, you trail your nails along his back and your tongue dances with his.

"You're a good kisser," he whispers as he allows his hands to travel your body, finding your breasts.

You blush as you lean up into his hands. He groans, looking down at your chest. Suddenly, he removes his hands as he moves them to grab your own, gently pulling you to sit. You follow his lead as you sit up. His hands travel to your thighs, slipping underneath the fabric.

"Do you want me to take this off?" He whispers, his eyes connecting with yours.

"Yes, I do."

And so he does. His hands delicately hike the dress up around your waist before pulling it up your torso, freeing your body from the fabric. Now he looks at you in only your bra and underwear, a sigh falling from his lips.

"Can't believe I haven't been able to touch you before now. You look gorgeous. I've been thinkin' about you a lot,"

"You have?" you ask pulling him back down on top of you.

He smoothes out your hair as he looks in your eyes.

"Yeah, I have."

With a soft blush on his face, he leans forward kissing your neck. His hands travel back to your chest, covered now in just your bra.

"God," you mumble, your hands moving to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you.

You tentatively raise your hips to meet his, feeling his erection more prominent than before. He responds to your actions, groaning as he gently grinds against you.

"God baby," he pants, before reaching behind you, undoing your bra after a few failed attempts, pulling it from your body.

He is quick to attach his lips to your left nipple, sucking gently as he kneads the other. You grip onto his hair as a whine escapes you, grinding against him with more urgency.

His shifts his weight suddenly, releasing your chest as he reaches for his pants, popping the button and undoing the zipper. When he pulls them down he takes his boxers with them, sighing at the relief of restraints from his member.

You are quick to take your underwear off as well as you discard them on the floor. You watch as he strokes his dick slowly a few times.

"Lord," he grunts looking at your now fully exposed body.

He eyelids are drooped as his eyes connect back to yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers before leaning in to kiss you again.

You grasp his hair again to keep him close. You never want this feeling to end. You bite his bottom lip as your brows furrow in pleasure when his finger finds its way to your clit. He groans in response.

"Do you like it when I do that, honey?" he breathes, his finger increasing it's pace slightly.

Your grip tightens on his hair, tugging.

"Yes, God, yes."

He hums before bringing his dick to line up at your opening.

"Can I baby, please?" he whines.

God, you can't take it.

"Elvis, yes, please," you moan.

A moment later, he enters you. You gasp, your hands tumbling to his shoulders.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

Slowly, he pulls his hips back before sinking back in slowly. You both moan. His lips come to your chest again, taking your right nipple now as he takes your hands from his shoulders, intertwining his fingers with yours.

You squeeze his hands as he slowly picks up his pace, crying out softly.

"Good God," he groans, licking all over your chest.

You think you feel a few sucks, leaning up into him. You are about to complain when he lets go of your hands before he grabs your thigh, hiking it above his waist while his other one goes back to your center, finding the spot you need him most.

Your head dips back against the throw pillow as you groan again, you nails coming to scratch his back.

"God, woman," he grunts when you connect your lips to his neck, biting gently.

"Keep pullin' at me, I like it when it hurts a little," he breathes, giving you the incentive to move your hands to his hair again, tugging.

He lets out a guttural groan as he speeds up his movements only slightly, both on your clit and the thrust of his hips. He pulls away just enough to watch himself pulling out of you before sinking bank in. You look with him.

"Shit, honey I'm gettin' close," he moans pathetically, keeping his gentle pace.

You start to feel that familiar feeling as well. You move your grip to his shoulders.

"Me too."

At hearing this, his finger picks up its pace, once languid circles turning tight and determined. He leans back down, his lips coming down to yours. When he bites your bottom lip, tugging slightly, the building feeling comes to a peak as you cry out, grabbing onto him and pulling him close.

He pulls out just in time to come undone on your stomach, his groan traveling through the room.

You gasp as you come back down to earth.

"Wow," you sigh, making him chuckle as he grabs his shirt off the ground, wiping his mess off of you.

Switching positions, he pulls you on top of him as you rest your head on his chest, hearing the rapid beat of his heart. He brings his hand to thread through your hair.

You sigh. Then, sleep takes you.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Tag List:

@horrorgirl4life @goldobsessionsworld @tantamount-treason @peaceloveelvis @father-of-2cats @sissylittlefeather @elvisalltheway101 @littlehoneyposts @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab @msamarican @presleyhearted

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

girl on fire 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, neglect, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: neglected, you find comfort in another home.

Characters: Jonathan Pine, Loki

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself

“Chardonnay, simple but classic. Versatile,” Jonathan declares as he uncorks the bottle, “a fine match for this delectable looking salmon.” 

He’s plated the meal nicely and set the patio table for the dinner. It isn’t the one you planned but better than the one you’d been about to resign yourself too. He pours you a healthy glass and you can’t help but admire his profile. He’s younger and fairer, but does he ever remind you of your husband. It’s like a cruel joke. 

He fills his own glass and sits, his elbow close to yours as he leans it on the arm rest. He reaches for his wine and raises it, awaiting your cheers. You cling the crystal and try not to show how flustered his gaze makes you. You were prepared for your unloving husband but not an intent neighbour. 

“Thanks, this is all very nice,” you smile. How long since you did that? Genuinely. “You really didn’t have to humour me.” 

“Humour you? Not at all. I have to confess, it’s rather lonely. Hattie’s great fun when she’s not in pain but I’m afraid she’s been rather lethargic with all the sedation.” 

“She is? I didn’t think she’d had her surgery yet,” you perk up and take a cautious sip. The chardonnay is oaky and bold. It must be expensive. 

“Not as yet, no, she’s due soon,” he explains as he slices into the flaky salmon, “but I’m afraid she is not handling the pain.” He hums before he tastes the fish. He tastes it very deliberately, “that is perfectly cooked. You must have training, yes?” 

You laugh, not meaning too, but it’s a compliment you don’t expect. 

“Oh no, no, I... I worked at the deli in a grocery store, a long time ago, but I wouldn’t call it culinary school.” 

“Very long ago? You don’t seem that old,” he says, “not that I’m guessing your age. I am aware it’s rather uncourteous to mention it to a woman so I suppose I’ve already said too much.” 

“Thirty-three.” 

“Spry,” he comments with a grin. “I enjoyed thirty-three. And thirty-four. It was all rather merry until forty.” 

“Now I know I have a lot to look forward to,” you kid and take a more generous mouthful, “this wine...” 

“Ah, yes, I’m a bit of an enthusiast. Hattie only had cooking sherry when I moved in. I had to stock up for my stay though I admit I’ve found it rather glum to drink alone. I opened a single bottle of merlot and couldn’t finish.” 

“Mm, I... think I know what you mean,” you admit bittersweetly. 

“Yes, I’ve not seen the husband yet. Elusive? He must be busy.” 

“All the time. Eleven years... well, the flame gets dimmer,” you swirl the chardonnay and watch the golden cyclone, “I’m sure you don’t care. I’m boring. Tell me about you,” you put the glass down and pick up your fork, “when you’re not caring for elderly women, what do you get up to? It must be something exciting. Does your wife miss you?” 

“So many questions, I’m afraid I might disappoint,” he mulls his response as he chews. “I can’t help but repeat myself. Absolutely delicious.” 

“You’re not answering,” you goad. Your heart is fluttering. You can’t help it. He just seems so sophisticated. 

“I manage several hotels for a luxury chain. Though I am looking into slowing down. I’ve invested in the brand so I have a cushion. I tire of all this running around,” he says forlornly, “I didn’t realise it until I arrived here. Hattie, bless her, she’s helped me realise how much I’ve missed out on,” he shifts and sits straighter, “so to your point, no, I’ve not a wife to miss me.” 

You laugh, “I’m sorry. I’m so nosy. It’s just... this place, well, we have gossips but it’s always the same stories.” 

“I’m flattered, truly. I’m truly not very exciting.” 

“Look who you’re talking to,” you scoff. 

“I’d counter and say I find you rather interesting,” he insists, “I wonder how any man could keep away from you.” 

“Oh, you really know what to say,” you giggle. 

“The truth is always the best policy,” he winks, “a woman who cooks like this, she must be something special.” 

Your cheeks burn and bulb and you smile even deeper. There’s an edge to your delight. The nagging voice in the back of your head; he isn’t your husband, though not for your own negligence. You wish he was Loki. You have yearned for your husband to look at you, to speak to you like this.  

It’s fine. It’s nothing. He knows you’re married. It’s only dinner. You’re not going to do anything.  

❤️‍🔥

“I’ve some sorbet in the freezer, would you like some dessert?” Jonathan asks as you empty your glass. The third. Like everything else, he is generous with the bottle. 

“I’d love dessert,” you preen and set the glass down, cupping your chin in your hand as you lean in to marvel at him. You angle your foot to touch his leg, “but I’m not in the mood for sorbet.” 

He tilts his head and his blue eyes flash. He takes a breath and you sense his reluctance. Oh no. Why did you do that? Why did you say that? It’s the wine. 

“Ah,” he reaches to touch your knee, squeezing, “I am entirely flattered but... you are married.” 

“Oh god,” you pull back and cover your face, “please, forget that happened. I’m drunk.” 

“It’s rather fine. It is a rather strong vintage,” he removes his hand, “please do not be embarrassed.” 

“How can I not be?” You whine. 

“Truly, I... I would. I cannot say I invited you in without the whim and yet... you are married.” 

“I know,” you whimper. 

“And I wouldn’t want to put you in such a compromised position.” 

You nod and gulp, hiding still behind your fingers, “I’m so sorry.” 

“Please, I should be. I’ve been... misleading. I must admit I would leap at the chance and yet I find it difficult knowing that it would be only a fleeting deceit.” 

“Ugh, please, I’ll go,” you sit up and grip the edge of the table, about to stand. He catches your arm, and holds you there. 

“Darling, you are one of the most immaculate woman I’ve met. That man, whoever he is, is a fool. I’ve not met him and even I know it,” he trails his hand down your arm and takes yours, raising it to kiss your knuckles, “please, know I do not reject you out of repulsion, only out of consideration. I wouldn’t dare put you in that position.” 

“I...” the touch of his lips makes you tingle. You tear your hand away and get to your feet, “I have to go.” 

“Darling--” 

“No, you’re so sweet,” your voice quavers, “but I can’t... I can’t hear lies from another man. I understand, okay? Please, just forget this all.” 

You clamour around his seat and across the deck. You take the two steps to even ground and wobble to the gate. You leave it open as you barrel through and across the street. You slow as you approach your house, the moonlight high above its peak. You stop short as Loki’s car sits in the driveway. 

What timing he has. 

[i-write-but-only-sometimes]

Girlfriend | Stardew Valley Sebastian/F!Reader

Synopsis – Sebastian finds out that Sam is dating the farmer. Nice guys finish last.

Content Warnings – masturbation, creepy incel stalker behavior, excessive swearing, jealousy/pining

Author's Note – This is my first time posting a fic online and not just leaving it to rot in my Drive. I'm working on varying my sentence structure and hope the next one will be better!

**MINORS DNI**

The slamming of the basement door echoed through the dim, musty basement. Seb raked his fingers through his hair, grunting “Fuck!” through gritted teeth. The large case that had been slung around his shoulder clattered to the ground, with no regard to whether the keyboard inside would be damaged. Seb rolled his chair back and practically threw himself into it, pulling forward to boot up his PC. Frantic mouse-clicking and key-tapping eventually led him to his best friend’s Instagram profile. This fucking asshole.

Under the username, sam.i.am.01—how lame is that?—in his bio, was the final nail in Seb’s coffin. ‘Taken :)’. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

Seb selected the first post, accidentally missing the image a few times before it blew up on the screen. Just a generic beach picture? He clicked the arrow taking him through the slides, ignoring the “cool" shells and sunset views until he got to one photo in particular. Sam and the farmer on the beach. She smiled as he kissed her cheek, both of them glistening, covered in beads of salty water as the ocean behind them reflected a perfect day. The caption: ‘Got to spend the day with my favorite girl in the whole world. <3 Just kidding, mom!’ Pens and pencils clattered to the floor as Seb pitched their container at the wall across the room. He gripped the arm rests on his chair and rolled away from the computer. “What the fuck?!”

Dingy floorboards creaked as Seb huffily paced around the room, biting away at the skin around his fingernails. The ones the farmer painted. ‘That post was days old and no one told me anything! He fucking knows I’m not on social media and he took advantage of that so he wouldn’t have to tell me to my face! He could say he thought everyone knew!’ Sam, that piece of shit, knew how he felt about her. Even when she was still the new girl in town, Seb liked her way before Sam did. He knew that. No wonder Sam had been so “busy” the past few days. Dark eyes focused on the map still sprawled out on the table from last week’s D&D session. It was supposed to be a one shot of an experimental system Seb found on Reddit, but Sam kept cracking jokes and it took longer to get through than expected. ‘I should have known then, every time Sam said something, he’d look to her for approval. And she ate it up!’ Come to think of it, more jokes had been at Seb’s expense than usual. He snatched the map and crumpled it up, colorful dice and intricately painted miniatures flying off and scattering on the floor. The map landed in a ball near an overflowing trash bin. Heart pounding through his ears, he returned to the computer. “Fuck this.”

As he sat, Seb tugged at the button on his dark jeans, undoing and and lowering his fly. He hated Sam, he fucking hated him, but he couldn’t change how good the farmer looked in her tight little swimsuit. Seb drank her up with his eyes, memorizing how nylon spandex indented her smooth skin. How sweat and saltwater intermingled and rolled down her curves. It was like he could taste her, and when he palmed his growing hard-on through the denim of his pants, he could feel her too. Running thumbs around the hem of his pants and boxer briefs, he hurriedly pulled them down mid-thigh, freeing his erection. He was warm, but it felt nice in the cool air. Under the desk was a bottle of lotion, and Seb reached down to pump some into his palm. This is it. This is what Sam fucking deserves.

One hand blocked the face of a traitor on his monitor while the other began massaging lotion onto his stiff cock. ‘Sam’s such a pussy, she’s got to pity him, going for a guy like that. But he doesn’t get the connection we have. He’ll see.’ He could treat her so much better. He knew he’d treat her so much better. Seb’s fist pumped at increasing speeds as he imagined the things he’d do to her.

If she chose him, he’d bring her out to the beach late at night. Elliot and Willy would be asleep at home and they’d have the shore to themselves, letting them talk and relax to the sound of waves crashing uninterrupted. She’d kiss him under the moonlight, and he’d snake a hand under the stretchy fabric of her bathing suit to fondle her breast, kneading her hard nipple under his thumb and making her hum in satisfaction. Her moans would be the invitation he needed to take things further, straddling her and humping her wet cunt through her swimsuit. She removes her arms and pulls the fabric down past her tits, and Sebastian is mezmerised by the way they bounce beneath him. He lunges forward, taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking hard, before pulling it upward and releasing it with a satisfying pop. Her moans reverberate into the night but are drowned out by the ambient sound of the ocean. But Seb wanted more; he wanted everyone to hear what he was doing to her. Shimmying his swim trunks down to his knees, his eyes bore into hers, begging for permission to enter. “Fuck me.” And so he does, yanking her swim bottoms to the side and plowing her into the sand. His hands and knees sink into the ground beneath them, but he still manages to pull her hips towards his and ram into her with unexpected force, grunting with each rut.

Sand sticks to her sweat-slicked skin as she pleads to him. “Shit, Sebastian…!” She reaches to lick a stripe up his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin just under his jaw and making him shiver. He pulls back, keeping his eyes on hers as he licks his thumb and grazes her clit. She squirms under him, rolling her hips to gain more friction.

“What, you like that?” He smirks, but her frustrated groans as a result of his teasing convince him to relent. He traces swift circles around her clit and is rewarded with a tightening around his cock.

“Yes…yes!” Seb lulls his head forward, overwhelmed by the pleasure, and watches as her pussy contorts around his shaft as he penetrates her. Fuck, she’s so hot.

He wanted her so fucking bad, it wasn’t fair. The glow of the computer screen illuminated his flushed, sweaty face in the dark room. She was so tempting, he found himself rutting desperately into his fist, increasing the strength of his grip as though it was her squeezing around him. Glazed eyes darted from the image of her breasts, to her midriff, to her ass and back up again; he wanted to visualize them all at once. He wanted all of her. She was his.

Seb brought the free hand against the screen up to his slack mouth, stifling a moan. Seeing the full image again, of Sam kissing his goddess, made him grunt in frustration, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. Still, the tension building in his core was at its climax, and he came hot white into his palm and onto the floor beneath his desk. Head rolling back, a cloud of euphoria washed over him, followed by a wave of clarity and regret. Tears rolled down his warm cheeks as he drooped his head into his hand, liked the post, and closed the tab.

[luciawithoutj]

Hey hi hello!

I have some things to say about new merch and jo merch in general so this is gonna be a litrle longer post and actually I think I should cange my semiotics theme (which is already about jo) about how bad their merch design is.

First of all little disclaimer: this is all my humble opionion based on what I learned in my one year of being graphic design student and an artist and designer on the internet for last 4-5 years. Before going to uni I learned most of about art and graphic design stuff by reading books and watching tons of yt videos. Second of all this critic is just coming from place of love for this band because I see so mucb potential and they could do some amazing merch designs if they give it a chance and I am fully aware how expensive the touring is and why they had to cut the quality of merch products.

So far my favorite jo band merch designs are cds (that probably required some designer to make), condoms (because they are really funny, genius, nicely designed and unique merch that fit the vibe of the band and matches their songs as well) and the new tshirt from last merch drop (which design is made by one slovenian fanartist : link.

Main reason that made me want to speak up is seeing that this merch drop will only have 100 products (my friend said that could mean 20-ish shirts per size) which how big this fandom has gotten in last year is pretty really dam limited. For a limited product I am really disappointed and I hoped for more. For such a limited product that design is the most default design they could have gone for and I am so sorry for Damon because his work is goregous, amazing, breathtaking and I could talk about it for ages and how inspiring it is but this shirt design isn't serving.

If they wanted to do bare minimum of design with those 5 images here is some of my ideas (unfortunately I don't have time to visually show them to yall on a mock ups because of finals that I should be studying for instead of writing this so try to imagine what I am trying to say and demonstrate). First is just simple instead of white choose black shirt or even better a thisrt. If you want it to go a stepp further is using their name logo font (font name is Avaline btw if anyone wants to download and use it for their designs :))) and either put it how they did when they promoted the everybody's waiting or to write idk therapy sessions or anything related to the band or it can even be some inside joke.

Something like this would make design just a bit more intersting but still bare minimum but amazing for regular merch. If they want to go a step further but want to keep the long sleeves (this idea was suggested by few people I talked too) they could put pictures vertically on the sleeves. I would find it a bit cooler if it is on the right sleeve out-side and then they put their band logo (the heart one) on the left side of the shirt where people's hearts normally are.

After exams I would definitely like to try to make some designs and just limit myself with this 5 pictures and play with typography and photoshoop to make something interesting.

Another I want to mentioned is how in my humble opinion if you are gonna sell limited edition either make it really pretty or good quality or really cursed and funny with inside jokes.

I think people (and me first) would eat tshirts (but also other merch designs) with some cursed designs or just texts that say "sparklative" or "slay pose" or "I feel SloveNACE" (this 3 were suggested by amazing people in tumblr discord server) or even let Jan photoshoop their faces on most random picture. This 5 guys with their gen z humour could make and do some hilarious merch like how amazing idea the condoms are.

Last thing I want to say is how many amazingly talented fans are. I mean even Damon was so shocked and moved by amount of talent and art made in this community. Furthermore I know (some of them as online friends and mutuals, others as just artists from same fandom) who are also either graphic design students or they work in art/graphic design/entertainment fields and some of them (including myself) would be so happy to even make few merch designs or art for them for freee or for a ticket for their show. Personally I would die from happiness if I get a chance to work with my favorite band that inspires me so much everyday to the point people at my uni think I am from Slovenia and know slovenian because of how much I include them in my uni work and how much fanart and designs I made because of them in last 6 months.

I just think there is so much potential guys might not be aware of (Idk honestly because who knows what is going on backstage in their lives). But yeah they could have even asked Damon to help them with composition of the pictures on that shirt or even hire Racik to make some pretty art or any fanartist honestly. Here is just few links of my favorite fanartists who also do a lot of graphic design related stuff (and also some of them sell their products on their own websites/redbubble/etsy/inprint/etc) :

Tia <3

Roxanne

Vic

jo.kam_ (previously mentioned her design)

Lemon

yelecx

Racik (ofc)

There is probably more but my brain for hell of it won't remember any names so feel free to add in the comments or tags more artists <3

I could probably go more in depth and give more ideas how to improve merch designs the cheapest and best way as possible but still trying to keep the quality good as it needs to be. I know there is still gonna be people fighting for this shirts and people are still gonna buy their merch but just it hurts my art/designer soul seeing this bad designs when there is so much potential and they have amazing fans and amazing crew and they work with so many talnted people and they themselves are so talented and their music inspired so many and so much.

Thanks everyone for coming to my TedTalk. <3

Actually now I am thinking and from just talking about jo work from design and semiotics perspective for that semiotics seminar I could just focus on their merch design and go more in detail about it and if yall want when it is done and I translate it in english I could share it here for people who want to read about it. Let me know I guess.

Also if someone is interested my art and design insta is lucia.without.j and my redbubble is lucia-without-j and my dms are always open if someone wants to chat or complain about anything art, design, joker out or any other fandom I am in related.

P. S. I am so sorry for any spelling mistakes and if what I said doesn't make sense. English isn't my first language.

[jkftkth]

i really do wonder what a bts comeback will mean and does every member have a plan figured out for themselves.

fan accounts going awol when some members were exploring their artistic individuality and only now resurfacing because a group reunion is closer - it makes you think. was there ever even an artistic connection? or was it more about what has been sold to the audience over musical talents - an entertaining family dynamic/bond fans can project onto. fitted roles where a member is only likeable if they’re playing it just right.

2024 changed my feelings for good on where i think i belong, and there’s probably little that could happen for me to want to be part of bts’ fandom again.

firstly, there’s only so far you can go being a fan of tae and having to witness on a daily basis the level of disrespect he faces from both company and fandom no one else has. when you see quite literally the worst of the worst, day after day, but it’s only a limited amount of fans who voice concern and make actual space for the exclusive severity of it all to be acknowledged and discussed and questioned…you either stay and pretend it’s not happening/it’s not “the actual worst” because it’s impossible to satisfy every fan, orrrrr—

i mean, everything until up to now has been with the intent of a) making us fall for the brainwashing so we stop advocating for him as an individual, or b) exhaust us into quitting being his fan so his label can turn around and say to him hey look—why did you think you could make it when no one likes you?

and i obviously believe other members are a victim in their own way too. because you would have to be living under a rock to not see that hybe does not respect its idols as workers, as money makers, and as humans. neither does it protect most of them, the actual opposite for specifically taegikook and so a fan of the group or not, anyone would naturally want better for hybes idols across the board because they deserve better than staff badmouthing them in official reports and on online platforms.

of course there are other reasons i’ve had enough, such as contractual fan service being pushed so much whilst at the same time fandom reactions being intensely watched and made note of to the extent labels are out here monitoring fanfiction and assigning tropes to members and not caring what type of delusion and hate that cultivates??! to the group motto of “us is always before me” being celebrated, to fandom not actually caring about idols’ rights, to fandom falling for a dirty pr firm’s media manipulation/fabrication so easily, to hybe basically being in all fandom spaces with their dumb ass bots to sway opinion, to i mean the list goes on.

i don’t think i’d call myself bitter, or a hater, or a “solo.”once they return i’ll feel relief for all of them that that chapter of their life is over and they came out safe and sound (🙏), but i confess i have little excitement for a group album because group songs mean one thing for fans of tae and group arrangements always do the opposite of wanting him to shine and group entertainment is hard to enjoy when you know there’s a script running more often than not at his expense.

a tour? well i know there’s sincerity in how important performing is, and it’ll probably mean a lot after 18 months of being forced away from that, so it will be nice to see them doing what they find enjoyable yes. do i look forward to the exerting schedules for the sake of making up for hybes financial losses? do i look forward to the billionaire continuing to rip them off while he carries on riding their success as his own?

i know there are contracts. i know idols’ rights are a topic of concern and few are willing to talk about it and make a change. i know their industry can get really manipulative really fast as soon as they step out of line and that can lead to a really dark reality. i know there’s always a bad guy in the story. i know the group is still important and loved by tae (and jk), i know he wants to think the best of the group’s fandom because he is still a group member, i know i’ll support him wherever he goes but like

it’s just hard to forget the least three years and stay unaffected.

[affluent-havoc]

Post Game

Marriage

Before I go into my little blabbering session about my own junk, like, gosh! Doing this was so cool and I feel I've improved so much! Seeing all the other pieces done by others was really awesome too! The highlight in fact which is par for the course of this kinda stuff. But still! Everyone did so well and freaking amazing! So much pretty arts! So many differing interpretations and art styles. Golly! Should totally do something like this again cus this was such a nice experience :))

Post Game - This one's pretty simple. Put them in their Future Foundation suits which are just suits behind a beach that is vaugly Jabberwock. And, they blush cus gay. Had fun with the TV effect and making it somewhat old looking. That's about it. Though, the more I look at it, the more Byakuya looks like he could be snapped in half like spaghetti which I guess is something ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Marriage - This one is the one I did first and is a lot more refined. Decided to take this one in a bit of a different direction too. Instead of them actually getting married, they instead are just playing around with a fake certificate that they photoshopped and printed from online. At least for me, how I read them is that they don't actually get married. Like, they live together in the same place, sleep in the same bed even, but they don't get married. OR, if they do get married, it's small and just a legal document. No big wedding or anything as, the time they are probably at the age to marry, they're already tired of big stuff like that. It'd be a big event and they'd want something more small and quaint instead, either hanging out together or maybe it's Makoto's idea to invite their friends along for the occasion. This is just how I interpret them though. Also, I find it funnier if they just fake it or they never do but Byakuya SO put Makoto in his will and Makoto also secretly put Byakuya in his and they just never tell the other until one of them croaks first. Either that or Makoto says it openly that Byakuya's in his will and the heir just laughs it off, underestimating Makoto and his determination on the will. Also, speaking of them dying, if it's Byakuya first, old man Makoto's taking the gesture well though emotional cus the rich man dead. If it's Byakuya though, he's obviously sad but also sees the will and a part of him goes "CURSE YOU, MAKOTO!!". Not seriously but because Byakuya's thinking of how Makoto didn't need to give him stuff after his death cus I feel Makoto wouldn't skimp out. He's putting all his family and pals in his will as one final send off. He'd make sure that will was the best it could be! Also, I feel Byakuya would feel weird that he's in the same will as Makoto's family and, no matter how long they've been together, it's just so strange. Even when he's gone, he still has a way to make him feel. Gosh, this got kinda sad um... One other thing I wanna mention of this piece is that Makoto either stole Byakuya's tie or he got his own matching one. Also, Byakuya in pretty dress! I had to! Oh, and Makoto totally got help writing his name cus it's in English and Makoto's kinda ass at it. They are totally standing for a picture too. Maybe they got one of the gang to take the pic or they set it up with one of their phones. Or maybe Byakuya just got a really expensive photographer for this and also booked a painter to paint this photo into a painting to put on their bedroom wall. That is equally plausible. And to think that I contemplated and even teased the idea in my head of drawing these two getting fake married with an Elvis impersonator. That might have been a bit TOO goofy though O_O

[liquidorcard]

HEY Y'ALL IT'S MIKAILER WITH AN "ER" WHY IS THAT SO HARD TO GRASP!?

---

Did I get your attention, Mikaila? I hope so, let's see.

Mikaila, I don't like you. You've done shit that's soured my opinion of you. I'm acknowledging that now to get that out of the way. I'm not here to be two-faced about this or blow smoke up your ass.

But as one idiot who stayed in a toxic relationship to another-- I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better. I know. Being in a relationship like that brings out some ugly shit. You resent and fear people will never forgive you. You don't know if you will forgive yourself. I'm not making fun of you because I think I'm better than you.

And it feels kinda good, being treated badly? In a weird way? When you're used to it? When you feel you kind of deserve it? It did for me too. My abuser did some fucked up shit to me. I don't know how to describe to you the strange feelings I'm left with now. Sometimes I think I finally hate her, sometimes, as pathetic as it makes me feel, I still miss her. It's a rot in you that never really goes away, but you learn to live with it. I understand that agony. I understand that anger of how fucking unfair it is.

You know my opinion of Lily. You're not going to trust me that I'm not saying all this just to get you two to break up to hurt her. Fair. Very fair, not going to pretend like it's not. But if Lily loves you, nothing I'm about to say should be an issue. She should want what's best for you, right?

Here's the rub Mikaila, it's been a few years now. I know you want out of your situation at home, but it doesn't seem like Lily's going to be able to help you with that at this point. I'm sure Lily's given you plenty of reasons as to why, and it's time to listen to her.

If you're heart's set on coming to Canada, your best bet is getting a job here. Or even, going to school. Art degrees (Here in Canada) aren't as expensive, provided you go to the right school. Even taking out a student loan for just one year to figure your shit out. I know you're in quite a bit of debt right now and don't want to get into more, but. You gotta do what you gotta do.

Here's the college I went to. Yes, your work is sufficient to potentially get admitted. Believe it or not, art school's get that illustration is a learned skill. Artists start from all different levels:

Look through the admissions requirements to see if you have the academic records to be admitted. If not, you could also consider upgrading through online classes aswell.

Again though, your best bet is to try to find employment. The cost of living isn't great here right now, but it isn't great anywhere. I doubt you'll be able to find cheaper rent in America.

Once you're here or wherever you end up, away from the chaos of your home, you might find it a lot easier to get your head around, establishing some better independence and becoming a citizen by yourself. It's a shitty process, but not as bad as the one you guys have in the States. We stan an immigrant here.

You need to look out for you, Mikaila. It's not selfish. It's not a matter of whether you "really deserve it or not." Nobody's going to save you. You're emotionally spent because of your parents, You're emotionally spent because of Lily. And it feels kind of nice how much Lily needs you. But you can't help her until you help yourself - and again, if we're all wrong and Lily really loves you, she shouldn't have a problem with you finding your way.

My own mother once told me I was "born sad." I've never not hated myself. I ate up any little bit of love and validation no matter how many bitter, razor pills that came with it too. That's just how it is for some of us.

But you know what Mikaila? Fuck em. Fuck all of them. Fuck everything. Fuck me, Mikaila. You've got one life. One body. One you. Whatever you think of her, someone's gotta fight for that poor bitch. Why not you fight for you?

Everyone's a stinky meat bag stripped down, Mikaila. Everyone's made a fool in the wake of the shit people like you and I have been through. Not everyone's going to be able to forgive everything, but everyone's not wholly past forgiveness.

I'm no better than you Mikaila. Nobody is. Some of us just get to know the worst sides of ourselves better than others.

I don't like some of the things you've done, girl. But I see you. I get it. Tell us all to eat shit. Fix your life. Don't rely on Lily to make you feel whole or to save you. To make you feel worthy. No person can do that. She could be the reincarnation of Mary Mother of God herself, and you couldn't expect that from her. Be your own advocate. If your relationship isn't toxic, it can survive you becoming a more whole you.

This asshole is rooting for you. Give me an excuse to undoomer "Mikailer." My girl needs a win.

[larytello]

I find it funny and sad how Tumblr users are SO CONDITIONED to English language as default they will just NOT interact with posts in other languages whatsoever, no matter how cool the thing is - not even a like and reblog without adding comments or tags to it

Small rant ahead with something that happened this week AND I SHOULD POST IT IN MY OWN LANGUAGE TO PROVE A POINT but I won't and it'll still prove a point.

I have a Paw Patrol sideblog. It's a very active blog where I post, reblog, receive lots of asks constantly, I post my art there, etc. I got more active followers there than here on my personal blog and that's saying something (my personal has over 10x more followers than the Paw Patrol one AND STILL that one is more active lmao). People are always liking the posts/reblogs, always adding a comment, always reblogging with comments and/or nice/funny tags, sending asks. Literally it's very active.

Last week I reblogged there a post I found, it was a video of a mom and her daughter playing together with Paw Patrol toys and a handcrafted Lookout Tower made out of cardboard. THAT TOWER LOOKS SO COOL. It's amazing and the mom made it herself for her daughter and they were playing together so happily. Naturally this reblog should get a lot of likes and some reblogs, right?

It didn't get any. It's the only reblog so far there that didn't get a single bit of interaction.

Do you know why?

The mom and daughter are Brazilians. They speak Brazilian Portuguese. The text in the post is in Brazilian Portuguese. I added a long comment myself ALSO in Brazilian Portuguese (it is my first language as I'm Brazilian too) saying how cool it was, joking about the prices of official Lookout Tower toys (absurdly expensive around here) and that I've been planning myself to also build the Lookout Tower and the Paw Patroller with cardboard as well but I'm still in the first sketching stages, but seeing her project really inspired me to go ahead and continue working on my own.

I even followed her blog and she followed me back too. She posts a bunch of cool stuff and toys and games she creates with her kids, it's really AWESOME. I could spend HOURS looking at their posts.

But as she posted in Brazilian Portuguese and I commented also in Brazilian Portuguese and added tags ALSO in Brazilian Portuguese, it looks like NO ONE BATTED AN EYE AT IT.

What, are y'all afraid of using GOOGLE TRANSLATE???? How the fuck do you think I learned English ON MY OWN to interact with people on the internet in the first place when I was like 13, 14 years old??? I didn't even have English teachers at school and high school, I legit learned on my own because the world wasn't interested in trying to communicate with me, I was the one who had to adapt to communicate with it all.

Also I'd just like to say I love Tumblr community but y'all are SERIOUSLY LOSING INTERACTION POINTS to fucking DEVIANTART LMFAOOOOOO AT LEAST THERE PEOPLE KEEP MAKING AN EFFORT TO TRANSLATE MY OLD POSTS IN PORTUGUESE EVEN NOWADAYS XDDDD

You don't even need to learn another language like I did! YOU HAVE ONLINE TRANSLATORS. Back in my time, Google Translate was ABSURDLY AWFUL when translating anything to Brazilian Portuguese and vice-versa (it still is, but way less awful now over the years it took to better itself about it).

I USED TO TRANSLATE STUFF LITERALLY MANUALLY USING A DICTIONARY. You have the instant translation technology, FUCKING USE IT, YOU COWARDS

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 10

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, trauma response, abusive parents.

Word Count: 6.0k

Chapter 9 | Masterlist

A few weeks go by, May is over and we were diving headfirst into June. After my eye appointment Jake took me to the bookstore, where we bought a few books that I had been wanting and then we went home. I immediately got online and started looking for frames for my glasses. I scrolled and scrolled for a few days until I came across those same Kate Spade glasses I saw on display. I went to scroll past them when I saw they were on a massive sale. They were originally two hundred and sixty dollars, but they were marked down to one hundred and ten online. That's the average price for glasses, but I bit my lip looking at them. I couldn't ask Jake for these even if they were on sale. "Find some you like?" I jumped, losing my grip on my phone as Jake startled me from behind. "Jake! God, don't scare me like that." I said, my hand over my heart as I leaned back into the couch. He just laughed, coming around and sitting next to me. Before he was even completely sitting, he snatched my phone, looking at the frames. "These are nice." He said, looking at them.

"Yeah but they're too expensive." I responded and he scoffed. "One ten isn't bad, darlin'. I was doing some research and saw the average was two hundred dollars.” He looked through everything on the glasses before turning to me. “There.” He said as he handed me my phone. I looked down and saw he had ordered them. “What if those weren’t the ones I wanted?” I asked and he laughed. “I saw you lookin’ at them at the doctor’s office darlin’. You wanted them.” With that he disappeared into the kitchen. I sighed, relaxing back into the couch as I looked at my phone. I felt bad because Jake has dropped a lot of money on me in the past few days, I had to figure out a way to pay him back. Of course, with no money that’s near impossible. So I would have to do something else. I thought about it for a while before figuring out a plan. While he was at work that week, I made sure the house was spotless, I did his laundry, made his bed and was prepping dinner by the time he got home. The first day he thanked me and was so pleased. But after a few weeks he came into my room after dinner, leaning on my door frame as he watched me put lotion on my legs. “Can I talk to you?” He asked and immediately my heart started pounding in my chest. “Um, yeah.” I put my lotion down and he came, sitting on my bed, looking at me. 

“Why are you doing all this stuff?” He asked and I furrowed my brows. “The cleaning?” “And the cooking, and doing my laundry, and making my bed.” I frowned, pulling my knees up to my chest. “Do you not want me to do that?” He sighed, flopping back on my bed. “I appreciate it, I really do. But it’s every day. Isn't there something else you'd rather spend your day doing?" He asked. I sighed, looking at the few books he bought me. I was halfway through one and I knew if I read all day I’d have the entire stack finished in two weeks. Then Jake would feel like he had to buy me more books. Television isn’t really doing it for me, and you can only watch so many movies. “Honestly?” He nodded. “Honestly.” I sighed, hugging my knees tighter. “Yeah. But I can’t think of much other than reading and it sucks when you finish a book so fast.” He stared at me and I felt like he could read me as easily as flight patterns. “But… you’ve also spent so much money on me lately and I don’t have money to pay you back so I thought I would do things for you.” He sighed, his eyes turning to look at the ceiling. “Darlin’, you don’t have to pay me back for any of this.” I shook my head. “Jake, you signed up to help me get out, not take care of me.” He chuckled, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his fist. My eyes drifted and I couldn’t help but notice his bulging biceps. “Katie.” He said, my eyes meeting his. “Darlin,” He smiled at me. “I don’t care about taking care of you. I’m happy to do it if it means you don’t have to go back to that house of horrors.” I smiled at him. “Thank you.” I whispered and he smiled at me. “Okay. Well I’m gonna go to bed, I’m exhausted.” I nodded as he stood before leaning over and kissing my head. “Night, darlin’.” He said before walking out. “Night, Jake.” 

A week later my glasses came in and I was excited when Jake pulled the box from the mailbox, and handed it to me. “Oh my god!” I squealed, excited to be able to see clearly again. I rushed inside, setting the box on the counter and searching for the scissors. “Dammit! Where are they?” I called out and I heard someone clear their throat behind me. I turned to see Jake, scissors in hand as he grinned at me. “Ah! Thank you!” I said, yanking the scissors from his hand and practically tearing the box apart. “I’ve never seen someone so excited for glasses.” I laughed at his words. “Well I have pretty shitty eyesight, so I’m excited to see clearly again.” I said, reaching into the box of packing peanuts and pulling out my new glasses. “HA!” I yelled, quickly cleaning the little bits of foam off the lenses. I slid them on and it took my eyes a second to adjust after going a few weeks without glasses but finally I could see. “Well?” He asked and I looked at him. Finally from a distance I could see him so clearly. “They’re great! I can finally see!” I looked out the kitchen window to the backyard. “Nice to know the leaves are still individual and not giant green blobs.” He laughed as he looked out the window with me. “Is your eyesight really that bad?” He asked and I pulled my glasses off, holding them out to him. “It’s not the worst eyesight ever but anything two feet in front of me and past that is blurry.” I told him and he held my glasses up to his face. “Oh my god that is blurry.” He said and I laughed, taking my glasses back. “So you can see why I’m happy to have glasses again.”

Another two weeks after that I had my first therapy session after Jake got off work and I lost track of time again and had to rush to get ready. Once again I tossed on a dress, some sandals, my hair was in a bun and I had no makeup. I grabbed my purse, rushing downstairs as Jake waited for me. “Come on. I can’t be late! God, of course I would make myself late.” I said as I rushed by him. “Katie, hang on.” He said, following me. “Did you not just hear me? I’m running behind, no thanks to my shitty time management skills.” I said, getting in the truck. Jake huffed, getting in beside me. I was a nervous wreck for this. Bradley has tried all week to calm me down and it did in the moment, then the nerves would creep back in. “Katie, can we talk?” I sighed, taking deep breaths and tried not to snap at him. “Jake.” I said as my voice broke and tears filled my eyes. “I am trying not to freak out right now. Could we talk after my session?” I asked and he gave me a small smile, nodding. “Yeah,” His voice was soft as he reached over the console, grabbing my hand and holding our intertwined fingers on it. “We can talk after.”

The rest of the ride was quiet but as Jake’s thumb rubbed my knuckles I calmed a little. But as soon as he let go and threw the truck in park, the nerves were back as I stared up at the tall building. I managed to get out and walk around the truck, heading for the door but I stopped short. My hand clutched the leather straps of my purse as it sat on my shoulder. Could I really do this? Tell a complete stranger everything that’s happened to me? Especially within the last few months? Well, I guess Jake was a complete stranger once. “Want me to go in with you?” I turned to see Jake leaning out the window of his truck. I sighed defeatedly. “Would you?” He smiled, rolling up the window and getting out. “C’mon.” He said, holding out his hand for me. “Thank you.” I said as I took his hand and walked inside. We took the elevator up to the eighth floor and down the hall to Dr. Davis’ office. We walked in and I smiled at the receptionist. “Hi, my name is Katie Blair. I have an appointment with Dr. Davis.” The lady hummed and typed on her keyboard. “Fill this out and have a seat.” She said in a bland tone. I gave her a small nod and took the clipboard, following Jake to some empty seats. We sat down and I looked at the clipboard. There was so much they needed to know, it was a little overwhelming. I eventually filled out everything I knew but when it came to things like insurance, I was stuck. “What’s wrong?” He asked. “I uh- I don’t have insurance and I don’t really know what to put.” I said and he leaned over, looking. “Here. Self-pay.” I checked the little box and sat back. 

He squinted at the paper that had my name on it. “Why does that name look familiar?” He asked. “Probably because it’s mine.” I sassed and he chuckled, nudging me. “Haha. No, I mean your first and middle name. Katie Scarlett.” I sighed, scrunching my nose at his question. “Ever seen Gone With The Wind?” It was my mother’s favorite movie, and of course. “No!” He gasped. “She didn’t.” I nodded. “If my last name had been O’Hara she would’ve kept me in corsets and hoop skirts.” He chuckled. “Well I like your name.” I nodded. “I do too. I think it’s pretty, just wish she had been more creative.” I said before getting up and walking over to the reception desk. “Here’s this.” She hummed, scowling at me as she looked up at me over the tops of her glasses. “For the record. You were late.” I bit my lip. My appointment was at four-thirty and we got into the office at four-thirty three. “Dr. Davis does not accept late patients.” My heart leapt into my throat. I got lucky with this early opening, they were booked out eight months otherwise. “Leave her alone Kathy.” A voice behind me spoke. “Hi, I’m Dr. Davis.” She held out her hand for me to shake. She was a little shorter than me, long dark brown hair and glasses on her face. She had to be about my mother’s age. And that worried me, what if she didn’t understand? “I-I’m Katie.” She smiled at me. “Well Katie, if you’re ready we can go into my office.” My gaze immediately shifted to Jake and he gave me a small smile. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.” I smiled at him and followed Dr. Davis into her office before she closed the door behind us. “Have a seat. Want some water?” At her question I realized my throat would dry. “Yes, please.” 

I sat in one of the comfy looking chairs she had in her office as she grabbed a bottle from the mini fridge and handed it to me. “You look lovely.” She complimented, sitting across from me. “Oh, uh thank you. I look like a wreck though. No makeup, my hair is pulled up and I just grabbed something from my closet.” I said and she nodded. “You still look beautiful.” My face flushed and she narrowed her eyes at me. “My mother always told me I had to be well put together to be beautiful.” She hummed, writing something down on her notepad. “Why don’t you tell me about your mother.” She asked and I took a deep breath. “She’s not a good person.” She nodded, writing stuff down. “And why is that?” I was a little agitated but I knew she had to ask. “I never remember her being necessarily kind to me. When I was little she had me in beauty pageants, my talent was a gymnastics routine and I was good at it. I would come in first almost every time and she would be so proud.” I said as tears gathered in my eyes. “I was seven and she set up my equipment. I threw a backhandspring on the balance beam, fell off and somehow snapped my femur in half.” She nodded. “That must have been painful.” I pursed my lips. “It was.” My hand fell to my leg, something I haven’t done in years. “I felt it immediately, my thigh was curved medially.” I said, using my hand to curve away from my body all the way down to my knee which pointed inwards. “I cried. God did I cry. Everyone panicked and one father was a medic and rushed over. But just before that I remember my mom telling me to shut up and not grab attention. But as soon as he came over, she was the worried mother, crying over her child's pain.” 

She hummed, passing me a box of tissues. “That makes you mad?” “No shit it makes me mad.” I snapped before taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” She shook her head with a smile. “No, that’s good. You should be mad. Tell me more.” I nodded. “Um, I couldn’t make friends. My mother tried to tell me we were better than everyone, but it never stuck. I was a social child, I loved talking to people and making friends but as soon as I would really get to know someone, form a bond we would move. Eventually I just stopped trying and before I knew it, totally isolated.” I said, wanting to pull my knees up to my chest, but I was in a dress and that’s not lady like. “They wanted me to go to law school. So I did.” She hummed. “And how was that?” “Awful. I was the freak of the school. I get excited about things that no one else seems to care about.” She hummed again. “Like what?” I bit my lip, looking down. “Um, I used to have some fish and I would constantly talk to anyone about them that would listen.” I started pulling on my thumbs. “What were their names?” She asked and I couldn’t help the smile on my face. “Um, splish and splash were my two goldfish, Georgie was my guppy, Simon was an angelfish and then Ripley was a neon tetra.” She smiled at me. “Do you have a picture?” I nodded enthusiastically. When I got into my old backup account I saved a few pictures of my fish as well. I just couldn’t go without pictures of them. “Oh my, they’re so pretty.” She said, adjusting her glasses and I grinned. “Thank you.” I said, putting my phone back in my purse.

“What happened to them?” My breath caught in my throat, not expecting her to be so direct. I thought back to how angry my dad was and a chill ran down my spine. “I was supposed to be studying, but I had done it so much I just wanted to read my book.” She raised a brow but nodded. “My dad was already mad and when he saw I wasn’t studying, he got even more angry and swiped all my old pageant trophies off my dresser. He said I was lazy and stupid and told me I would be nothing without him. He tipped over my bookshelf, trashed my CD’s and when I told him I didn’t need him, he ripped my glasses from my face.” Her eyes were wide as she stared at me before writing in her notes. “Go on.” She motioned me to continue. “He told me if I wasn’t going to use my glasses to study, I must not need them. Then he took one of my textbooks and crushed them on my desk.” Her jaw was practically on the floor as I went on. “He threw me into the table that held my fish tank and he said he was sick of them, so he launched the book into the side of the tank. It shattered and they all flooded out onto the floor. They flopped around and I put them in a container of water, but none of them survived.” Tears filled my eyes at the memory. “Then he told me to get the hell over it and to clean up the mess.” 

“Katie. That’s abuse.” I nodded. “I know that now.” She sighed, taking a breath. “Anything else?” I hummed. “Can I just tell you recent stuff?” She nodded. “Not long before my dad killed my fish, my friend Jake, the one out in the waiting room, came over and helped me clean my fish tank and my parents came home early.” I thought back to the angry look on my fathers face. “As soon as the door shut, he grabbed me by my hair, dragged me from where I was standing in the tub, and threw me to the floor. Jake didn’t leave the house, he just closed the door but he was still there.” I said, wiping tears from my eyes. “I managed to get him to leave just as my dad pulled off his belt and started hitting me.” She just seemed shocked by everything I was saying. “That’s not even the worst.” I said and she sighed. “Katie. We don’t have to go over everything today. We can do another session.” I shook my head. “I really wanna get this out.” She nodded again and got comfortable in her chair. “The day after my dad killed my fish, I ran off with Jake to his house. But I panicked and thought my dad would ruin his life so I went back.” She furrowed her brows. “How would your dad ruin Jake’s life?” She asked. “Jake is a Lieutenant in the navy. My dad is his Fleet Commander.” She hummed. “And how high in rank is Fleet Commander?” I chuckled, leaning my head back on the chair. “The highest. It’s the equivalent of an Army General. He is the person with the most control.” She hummed. “What happened when you went back?” 

“They tricked me.” She raised her brows in surprise. “They pretended like they knew they did wrong, and even apologized and told me they loved me.” It was silent for a moment as tears fell down my face. “That’s the first time I remember them saying they loved me… and it was a lie.” My voice broke as I grabbed a tissue. “I woke up the next morning to a lock outside my door. They locked me in and told me I was never coming back out.” She stared at me in shock. “How long were you locked in there?” I sighed. “A week. It was a Saturday when my mom made me get up and put me in the shower for the first time. She did my hair and I did my makeup before she put me in a white dress and locked me in again. She told me I had to look perfect for who they were bringing over.” I said as I wiped my eyes again. “I overheard them when they walked past the door. My mom said she didn’t care what these people did with me once I was out of her house.” She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How did you get out?” She asked, concern lacing her voice. “They left and I kind of panicked. The door was locked, my windows were nailed shut, and I had no phone. But I sat against my bed and looked over at my desk. There was a curled cord hanging out of one of the drawers.” I chuckled. “It was my old landline, and thankfully my parents still had service running through the house. So I plugged in the phone jack and it worked. I called Jake and him and a few friends came in to get me out.” She gave me a small smile. “Sounds like great friends.” 

“They really are. Jake is letting me live with him now, but I feel so lost. I told him I would get a job but he offered for me to live there and go to nursing school. My mother always controlled my life, now that I got away. I don’t really know what to do.” She slapped her notepad down on the arm of her chair and leaned forward with a wide grin. “Do something for yourself.” I took a deep breath. “I came to therapy.” I gave her a smile and she chuckled. “Do something else.” I pursed my lips, thinking about what I could do. “Can I give a suggestion?” I nodded, feeling like a little guidance would help. “Go to nursing school.” My eyebrows shot up. “Really?” She nodded enthusiastically. “You have someone letting you live in their house rent free. Going to school, and working to pay bills would be so difficult. You are in a very good situation right now and you need to take advantage of it.” I nodded, biting my lip. “I’ll think about it.” She nodded. “Good.” We spoke a little more about our next steps in therapy and my mother’s voice in my head. By the end of my session I felt a little better and we stood. “I would really like to try EMDR with you. I think it could really help you move forward in the healing process.” I nodded. “You think I’ll ever be normal?” I asked and she chuckled. “If there’s anything I’ve learned in my line of work. Normal doesn’t exist. But we will work together to get you in the right headspace and ways to go through your life, without your mother’s voice in your head.” I nodded as she handed me a few pamphlets on EMDR, something she wanted to try with me. I was finally getting help. I felt a wave of emotions washing over me as I stared down at the pamphlets. Tears filled my eyes as I looked over at Dr. Davis. “Thank you, Dr. Davis.” She smiled at me, shaking my hand. “You’re welcome, Katie. Now, what are you going to do after this?” I chuckled, smiling at her. “Seriously consider nursing school.” She nodded and walked me out. “Make another appointment for whatever is convenient to you. We’ll figure out a time frame next time.” I nodded before she called another patient in. 

“You okay?” Jake asked as he walked over. He saw the tears in my eyes and opened his arms, pulling me into a hug. “I will be.” He nodded before releasing me to schedule my next appointment, but his arm never left my shoulder. I made another appointment for a month, thinking that would be a good time. Jake paid, which I felt guilty for, and grabbed my hand, walking us into the elevator then out to the truck. Once we got in, I wiped my eyes and turned to him. “Didn’t you have something to tell me?” He seemed a little surprised. “Oh, yeah. Bu-but it can wait till tomorrow.” I furrowed my brows as I leaned my head on the window. “You sure?” He nodded, giving me a soft smile. “I’m sure.” He asked me if I wanted to go eat somewhere before going home, but I felt so exhausted we just stopped for fast food and ate it on the couch. “You sure you’re okay?” He asked when we cleaned up and sat back down on the couch. “Yeah, I’m just really tired.” He hummed as my head laid back on the couch. It wasn’t long until I passed out on the couch, but the next morning I woke up in my bed. I looked at the clock and saw it said nine a.m. I slept for over twelve hours? I fell asleep before eight last night. I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Jake was already at work. Jake. I thought for a second and realized he had to have carried me to bed. Unless I walked to bed and don’t remember? I’ll ask him when he gets home. With that I flung the covers off of me and grabbed my phone. I had a text from Phoenix asking about a birthday party for Rooster, and one from Jake asking about dinner tonight. “What could he have to say that he needs me and Kelly at dinner?” I asked myself as I went downstairs to make breakfast. I spent the day doing some research on EMDR and found a lot of interesting info on it. Before I could lose track of time, I showered a whole two hours before Jake came home, then tossed a load of towels in the washer. 

I couldn’t figure out what to wear so I texted Kelly and asked what she would be wearing. I had never been to this place but I had heard of it. She finally texted me back when Jake got home, saying she was wearing a navy blue slip dress. It gave me an idea of what to wear so I shifted through my closet as Jake knocked on the door frame. “Hey.” I turned and smiled at him as I pulled out a dress and held it up. “Hi. How was your day?” I asked. “Busy. I spent five out of nine hours in the air.” I poked my bottom lip out at him. “I’m sorry.” I said and he chuckled. “What are you doing?” He asked. “Just trying to find a dress. I’ve never been to this place so I text Kelly and asked what she was wearing.” He hummed, crossing his right leg over his left, hands in his pockets as he leaned on the door frame. The t-shirt showed off his muscular tan arms so well. “And what is she wearing?” He asked and I giggled. “Well she didn’t tell me I couldn’t tell you, but I won’t. All I’ll say is it’s a little navy number.” I said, winking at him. He smiled at me, watching as I held another dress up in front of my body as I looked at myself in the mirror in my room. “And what are you wearing?” I shrugged. “Not sure yet. But when I find out, I’ll get your opinion.” He grinned at me before turning to walk away. “Hey Jake?” I asked and he turned back to me. “Did you…” I froze, feeling weird about asking this question. He walked closer, propping his elbow on the dresser and looking down at me with a grin. His face was so close to mine, his minty breath fanning across my face. “Did I what?” He asked. I opened and closed my mouth a few times before I pushed past the not so pure thoughts crossing my mind. “Did you bring me up to bed last night?” I asked and he smiled at me so widely I thought I would go blind. 

“I did. I couldn’t let you be all uncomfortable on the couch.” He said. “I’m sorry. I should’ve gotten up.” He shook his head, wrapping his fingers around one of my curls that I coated with finishing spray to keep it intact. “Don’t apologize. It was like lifting a sheet of paper.” He said before leaning in and kissing my forehead. “Thank you.” I said as he turned to walk out. “We have two hours before we have to pick up Kelly and make our reservations.” I nodded as he walked down to his room. It took me a minute to gather my thoughts but once I did I threw myself into my closet. I couldn’t think about him that way. He was a friend, and one that was doing so much for me. Plus, he was in a relationship and he would never be interested in me anyway. Finally I found a dress and hung it on the outside of my closet before going and putting my makeup on. It was soft and simple, light pink eyeshadow to match the flowers on my dress. Once that was done we had half an hour before we left so I put on the dress and grabbed my nude heels. I had no jewelry which felt weird, I almost felt incomplete without it. So I just grabbed my purse and walked downstairs where I put my shoes on. “Woah.” I turned to find Jake standing on the second to last step. “Too much?” I asked and he stared at me for a second before shaking his head. “No. No, not at all.” I smiled, brushing the skirt of my dress. It was a black maxi dress with pink magnolia blooms on it. It had a split on one side of the skirt and the top was a cross halter which left my back completely exposed. 

“You look beautiful.” I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped me. “Thank you.” I said and he smiled at me. “Ready, darlin’?” He asked and I nodded. “Yeah.” He grabbed my hand and led me out to the truck, opening the passenger door for me and helping me in. Once he got in we drove to Kelly’s house and I tried to pry the news out of him. “Oh come on. Please tell me!” I said, leaning across the center console and looking up at him with big doe eyes. “I’m not looking at you.” I sat back in my seat and pouted. “Why not?” I asked, offended. “I’d give in immediately if I did.” I felt a surge of something rush through my chest and I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. Soon we arrived at Kelly’s apartment complex and she walked out her door. I got out of the front seat, leaving the door open for her as I crawled into the back seat. I got in and buckled just as she climbed in. “Gee, your roommate does more for me than you do when getting in the truck.” She joked and he rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of annoyance in her tone. “Hi baby.” He said and they both leaned over the console, kissing each other sweetly. I gave them a small smile as they pulled apart, they intertwined fingers resting on the console. Just like ours were yesterday, and I frowned at the memory. There was a tension in the truck and we rode in silence. When we arrived, Jake handed the truck over to the valet and we walked in. When Jake helped Kelly out of the car, I really got a look at her dress. A navy midi slip dress with thin straps and a split up the thigh. She really looked pretty with her hair curled and pulled into a pretty bun, a few hairs framing her face. She was so pretty and I felt very… plain compared to her. 

I shook my insecurities aside as we walked in and we were led to a table in a back corner, soft lights illuminating the table. Jake pulled out mine and Kelly’s chairs before sitting down himself. He was next to Kelly and I was directly across from him. He rested his forearms on the table and I couldn’t look away from his arms, which had the sleeves rolled up. He looked so good in his navy shirt and black slacks, but I watched as his hand fell to her thigh and I felt a little dejected at the sight. But I had no right to be. I shook the thoughts from my mind and tuned into the conversation. “So, Katie. Jake told me you had therapy yesterday.” Jake’s face fell and I felt a little embarrassed. I didn’t want anyone to know, but I didn’t tell Jake that either so I can’t get mad. “Um, yeah. I did.” Suddenly the waiter came over to take our drink orders. Jake and Kelly ordered some wine and I ordered water. “She’ll also have a glass of chardonnay.” My eyes snapped to Jake and the waiter nodded, walking away. “What if I didn’t want wine?” I asked and he chuckled. “I saw you looking at the wine menu.” Kelly immediately turned to me. “So how did your session go yesterday?” I sighed. “Um, really good actually. I think it’s gonna be good for me.” She nodded and our drinks came. I immediately picked up my glass, taking a large sip. Probably very un-lady-like but I didn’t care. By the time the food arrived I was two glasses in and feeling it. Hardly drinking makes for a low alcohol tolerance and I needed food to fix it. I sat here quietly while we waited and dug in as soon as the pasta sat in front of me. I listened to the conversation and sobered up quite a bit by the end of dinner.

“So… Katie.” He said, catching my attention as the waiter took my plate. He opened his mouth as he looked at me before quickly snatching the dessert menu. “Want some tiramisu?” He asked and I furrowed my brows at him. “Um, no thanks. I think we’ve racked up quite the bill tonight.” I said and he shook his head. “Nope, we're having dessert.” He said and caught our waiter's attention. “Three orders of tiramisu, please.” The waiter nodded and turned away. Kelly smacked his arm and caught his attention. “Tell her.” She practically growled out. My heart immediately sank. He was kicking me out. He’s grown tired of me and can’t stand to have me in his house anymore. He was throwing me out with nowhere to go. My breathing picked up and I felt like I couldn’t get any breath into my lungs. “Katie.” Jake caught my attention as the waiter set the coffee dessert in front of me, as well as another glass of wine. I snatched the glass, downing it as fast as possible. “Are you okay?” Kelly asked and I shook my head. “Not really. I’m so nervous I’m shaking.” I said and Jake furrowed his brows as Kelly squeezed his hand on the table. “Why are you nervous?” I sighed, squeezing my hands between my thighs to ground myself. 

“You’re kicking me out.” He seemed shocked and immediately leaned forward. “Katie. I would never do that. Why would you think that?” He asked and I shrugged, grabbing my spoon and digging in. “I figured you couldn’t stand to have me around anymore.” I said and he shook his head. “Katie no.” I sighed. “Then what is she pushing you to tell me?” I asked and he sighed, looking at Kelly as she took his hand in hers. “Katie. I’m getting deployed.” I looked at him shocked and it felt like everything was crashing down. Without Jake I would really be lost. If my parents found me, they would have no problem dragging me out of that house and back into the room. Hell, they probably wouldn’t feed me for a week. “Wh-what?” I stuttered out, my voice meek and small. “They’re shipping out the entire team at the end of the month. For six weeks.” I sat there as tears filled my eyes, looking down at the dessert in front of me, suddenly no longer enticed by it. “Katie? Are you gonna be okay?” Kelly asked and I looked up at her. “Um, to be honest. I don’t know.” I immediately stood, grabbing my purse. “I need some air.” I said before rushing past them and outside.

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[ragnarockz]

Bitch!Agatha (who maybe isn’t the best cook) plans an at-home romantic Valentine’s Day dinner?

The type made me laugh but I also love it so, good on you anon for that one 😂❤

My HC is that she's AMAZING at cooking breakfast foods and grilling stuff but that's about it. Vidal is the true cook around these parts but if Agnes is deciding she wants to be in charge Vidal can only allow her 😌

I think her SAFEST meal is to go with pasta; maybe in a nice rose sauce. Nothing too over the top but just perfect and super good (and Vidal likes her pasta so, bonus marks for Agnes). She'd go out and buy a really nice, expensive bottle of wine for them to share and she'll gift it to Vidal alongside flowers (not ONLY roses, an arrangement of different flowers). I can also see Agnes buying Vidal a nice lingerie set, too (maybe something Vidal had in one of her shopping carts online) and she looooooves the idea of Vidal wearing it for her; especially since she bought it for her.

She probably got someone in town who knows how to bake to bake her a cake for Vidal (I'm thinking like a French pistachio cake). And she smuggles it all home and hides it until she can surprise Vidal with it and the wine and the gift. She's got the pasta on the stove and Rio has her playlist on and she's just enjoying the wine and watching Agnes cook for her and thinking she really did find heaven because Agnes does really try and she is very attentive and thoughtful.

Vidal loves Valentines Day so she always looks forward to it rolling around when she's with Agnes.

I can also see them always celebrating VD at home because they want to be cozy? They want to just enjoy themselves and not have to rush to a reservation or anything like that. Just the two of them at home in each others company.

Vidal 100% decorates the house (and even Agnes' office at work) for Valentine's Day and Agnes secretly adores it because Vidal adores it, and it makes her happy 🥺💕