#every day I get stuck in waiting mode for SO LONG and SO MANY TIMES

[bookwyrminspiration]

god I would be UNSTOPPABLE if I was capable of consistently initiating tasks. just you wait. you'll be waiting a while but just you wait

[goldenempyrean]

Hi, it’s so hot here so can I request a winter scenario with Wanda and sick reader with the prompts "You’re going to catch your death out here.” Bless you… Bless you! Are you okay- bless you again!”.

I was thinking the Avengers are hosting a snow day for underprivileged kids at the compound. Reader has never seen snow in person, so she spends all her time making snow angels and getting in snowball fights with the kids. Reader wakes up the next morning with a really sneezy cold. Wanda shifts into fluffy caretaker mode, and the other Avengers are watching like, wow Wanda really loves her. ❄️🥰

Baby It's Cold Outside

〚 Notes - Wow it really has been a while since I've done requests, I'm so sorry this took so long! I hope it's okay but I switched things around a little to have Wanda experiencing the snow :D Enjoy! 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your girlfriend experiences the snow for the day first leading to a day of fun and excitement. Maybe you should've insisted that she wear her hat though..〛

〚 Wordcount - 2395 〛

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“Wanda!” You smiled as you gently caught the wrist of your eager girlfriend just before she’d raced out of the door, “You need to wear these sweetpea, it’s too cold without them.” You murmured softly, taking the pair of pink gloves you’d shoved in your pocket earlier that morning and carefully pulled over her hands. 

“Oh! But I won't be able to feel the snow now!” You could almost feel her whine, as stuck out her lower lip pouted up at you. 

But you only shook your head fondly as you pulled a matching pink bobble head over her hair, “You’ll most definitely still feel it Wands, it’s just to stop you getting too cold. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

You smiled at her, she was practically overflowing with excitement, “Alright sweetheart, go enjoy yourself. I’ll be out with some hot chocolate soon.” 

Now you see, Wanda had never seen snow before. The blanket of pristine white powder that had fallen during the night, holding the land in its icy grip and the look on her face when she’d woken up that morning and taken in the view from the window was a look you’d never forget. Such pure excitement and rushing anticipation to experience it all. 

Every year whenever it snowed, the Avenger’s liked to open up their campus to the kids in the local community. The wide-open fields provided not only a big, but also safe place for them to happily play. Parents had a temporary respite and the whole team grew their relationships with the community as a whole. Plus, the kids had fun too. It was a win, win.  

During breakfast Wanda had practically been bouncing in her seat. They’d opened the field half an hour ago and there were already several kids putting in the work to make some snowmen. All she wanted was to go out there and join them as soon as possible. So as soon she’d finished eating the last of her waffles, she’d headed straight for the field. 

You paused for a moment to watch the wonder on her face as she dove into the soft white snow, the wide grin on her face felt contagious as your own lip’s helplessly morphed into a soft loving smile.  

“Right, hot chocolate.” You said to yourself, bringing yourself back to reality, stealing one last glance at your girlfriend in the snow - she’d laid flat on her back and had begun making snow angels after a little girl had showed her how. 

You turned on your toes and headed back to the kitchen, taking out a stack of cardboard cups and making sure you had enough for everyone. Once you were sure, you began heating up the milk. Yes, you used milk. The debate of whether to use milk or hot water had been had way too many times. Sam insisted that you were meant to use hot water which had horrified you the first time you heard his claim. As you waited for the milk to warm, you stood up on your tiptoes to pull a fresh bag of mini marshmallows from the cupboard. 

They were meant to be hidden in Natasha’s secret stash of snacks, but you figured she wouldn’t mind… as long as you placed them before she noticed they were gone. Once the milk had heated you added the hot chocolate powder and poured it into the cups, decorating each one with whipped cream and a generous sprinkle of the marshmallows. Perfect. 

Heading back to the door, you called out loudly, “Kids! Who wants hot chocolate?” Receiving several loud squeals of excitement in response as they all turned and ran back inside to grab a cup.  

They were all well-mannered and you smiled fondly as each child said a ‘thank you’ before taking their cup and racing back outside. After each cup had been taken you noticed that the large white mug, you’d made special sit sat on the side of the countertop. Wanda hadn’t even come inside for hot chocolate, you smiled to yourself at just how much she must’ve been enjoying herself before taking the cup, feeling its warmness sink into your hands before grabbing a scarf and heading out into the snow to find her. 

Several other members of the team had also decided to join in on the fun and you couldn’t hold back a laugh as you saw Clint get pelted in the face by a snowball hurled by Natasha from several feet away. Tony also seemed to be enjoying himself, he’d apparently crowned himself leader of the 6-year-olds and they were all using his technology to build a huge igloo to play inside. 

“Wands?” You called out as you got closer to your team members, to which your eyes widened in surprise seeing a familiar head of messy brunette hair pop up from behind a huge snow boulder that was apparently the base to a huge snowman that her and Steve had joined up to build.  

“Wands!” You smiled but then her messy hair caught your attention, “Sweetheart, where’s your hat? Hm? I thought I told you to wear it.” You said - you would’ve put your hands on your hips, but you were still holding her mug, “Oh, and your gloves.” You added with a sigh as you realised, she was also missing her pink accessories. 

“I’m sorry! They were just getting in the way, and I really wanted to just feel the snow.” 

“And did you?”  

Wanda beamed excitedly as she knelt down and picked up some snow, pressing it into a ball before holding it proudly, “Yes, look!” 

How could you lecture her about keeping warm when she was just so cute. “Look what I brought you.” You smiled, remembering the chocolatey drink in your hands, “Here you go.” 

To say her eyes lit up would be an understatement. They practically sparkled as she accepted the warm cup, her cold hands cradling the object as if it were the most important thing in the world. She took a sip and looked up at you, “Thank you baby.” She murmured, the gratitude in her voice clear. 

You smiled back at her, “No problem sweetie, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself,” You said, removing the scarf you’d put on earlier and gently wrapped it around her neck instead, to which she instantly snuggled against it, “But seriously, you’re going to catch your death out here if you don’t stay home so keep that on for me darling, okay?” 

"She's really got you wrapped around her finger, huh?" Natasha smirked playfully as she walked past, and you didn’t notice the way her hand was suspiciously hidden behind her back. 

You shot her a fake glare, "Well, when your girlfriend looks at snow like it's the most magical thing in the world, you'd do anything to make sure she stays warm and happy." 

Wanda giggled, taking another sip of her hot chocolate, her eyes never leaving yours. The warmth in her gaze made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but be grateful for these moments of joy. But your attempt of saving the moment was starkly stopped when you felt the sudden shock of feeling a freezing hold object hit the back of your neck followed by what could only be described as hyena laughing coming from the redheaded assassin a few yards away. 

“Got you!” Natasha managed to say inbetween laughs. 

“Oh, you are so on.” You smirked widely, cracking your knuckles before picking up your own handful of snow, “Come on, let’s get her Wands’.” 

After a spirited exchange of snowballs, you all collapsed into the snow, breathless and grinning and as the evening settled in, the Avengers decided to wrap up the snow day festivities. The kids, rosy-cheeked and filled with joy, gathered around for a final round of hot chocolate before heading home. Wanda, still wrapped in the scarf you had given her, stood close by, she was a little quieter now, seemingly having used up all her energy during her day of fun and the small yawns she’d been trying to hide in your scarf was your sign she was probably ready for bed. 

As the last of the kids said their goodbyes, you turned your attention back to Wanda. Both her cheeks and nose were slightly red from the cold, and she sniffled a little as she tried to suppress another yawn. You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable exhaustion. She really did make that snow day worth it’s while and you were so glad that she enjoyed herself so much. 

"Looks like someone had a lot of fun today," you teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Wanda leaned into your side, nodding with a content smile. "It was incredible, Y/N, I've never experienced anything like this before. The snow, it was so cold but oh it was amazing! I loved it so much!” 

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, sweetheart. Now, how about we get you inside and warmed up a bit? I’ve already put the fluffy blanket you like in the dryer, so it’ll be super warm for you.” 

Before long, the two of you were cuddled up beneath the blanket on one of the sofas in the living quarters. Some cheesy reality TV show was playing on the big TV screen though you weren’t really watching, it was there for the benefit of Clint and Bruce who’d also joined the pair of you and were currently arguing over who was the best Kardashian – much to your amusement.  

After some time, you noticed that Wanda's eyes were growing heavy as she snuggled against you. Her head rested against your shoulder, and her breathing slowed down. It was evident that the combination of the day's excitement and the warmth of the blanket was lulling her to sleep. 

Gently, you lifted her in your arms and carried her to your shared bedroom. You carefully laid her down on the bed, tucking her in with extra care. Wanda mumbled a soft 'thank you my love' in her sleepy state, and you pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed yourself. It didn’t take long and soon you were back to the bed and cuddled up under the blankets and falling asleep right beside her. 

The next morning, you woke up to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. You stretched lazily, feeling well-rested after the previous day's festivities. Turning to your side, you expected to see Wanda still peacefully asleep. However, you were met with a surprising sight. 

Wanda was awake, sitting up in bed with a sheepish smile on her face. She held a tissue in one hand, and her nose was slightly red. It was then that you noticed a faint, adorable sneeze escape her, which she quickly tried to muffle with the tissue. 

You couldn't help but chuckle at her adorable attempt to be quiet. "Bless you, Wands," you whispered, sitting up beside her. 

She sniffled and rubbed her nose, giving you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, did I wake you up baby? I was trying to be quiet.” She sniffled again, however this time it didn’t have the intended effect, her breath hitching a little as her face shifted into an awaiting look of anticipation. 

“Hh.. Hih-H’iiishu!”   

“Bless you bab- Bless you! Are you okay?- bless you again!” Your eyes widened as your girlfriend couldn’t seem to stop sneezing, “Goodness sweetheart! Now you see this is why we wrap up warm when it’s freezing out. I think you’ve caught yourself a cold my love. 

Wanda pouted slightly as scrunched up her nose, “Maybe just a little one but it was really worth it, I swear!” 

“Oh of course, that seemed like just little cold.” You rolled your eyes at her stubborn nature before softening at the sound of her small pitiful sniffles, “I’ll tell you what, how about we have a cosy day in today?” 

Wanda smiled, her grin dancing on her lips, “That sounds amazing pumpkin.” 

“I’m glad it does baby, cosy day in it is then!” 

So, the two of you, adorned in fluffy pyjamas, armed with a tissue box and the big, thick duvet from your bed settled onto the sofa again, snuggling down against each other before you handed Wanda the remote, letting her pick a movie to watch. 

Wanda scrolled through the list of movies on the screen. After a brief discussion, you both settled on a classic romantic comedy – something light and heartwarming to lift Wanda's spirits. The movie started playing, and the soft glow from the screen illuminated the room. 

As the movie progressed, you noticed your girlfriend’s eyes growing heavy, and her head slowly drooping onto your shoulder. The combination of the movie and the warmth of the blanket had lulled her into a peaceful slumber. You couldn't resist pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead before allowing yourself to succumb to the urge to nap right there with her. 

Unbeknownst to you, Tony had been wandering around the living quarters, looking for something to entertain himself. As he strolled past your shared space, he couldn't help but notice the adorable scene unfolding on the sofa. There you were, wrapped in the oversized duvet, with Wanda nestled against your side, both of you sound asleep. 

The genius smirked mischievously. Instead of waking either of you up, he simply pulled out his phone and took a quick photo... then a selfie with the two of you in the background – oh how he’d tease you both about this later -. before quietly asking FRIDAY to call Romanoff and Barton down to the living room. 

Tony stood proudly, as if he had orchestrated the whole thing. “I didn't know they could be this sappy.” He teased quietly. 

“Should we wake them up?” Clint whispered, not wanting to disturb either of you. 

“Nah, let ‘em sleep. Wanda probably needs it, and Y/N will be grumpy if we wake them anyway.” Tony cautioned before sneaking away from the room. 

Natasha, who had her own soft spot for romance, simply nodded in agreement. Before nudging Clint to take a closer look at how your hand was holding your girlfriend’s even in your sleep, "Looks like someone's got a touch of the love bug." 

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[loveandleases]

Hi again, Lea! 

Got another question/scenario ask for you: what would a day at an amusement park look like for a group trip with ROs and the MC? Like who’s rushing off to get in line for the roller coaster, who’s definitely checking out the haunted house, who’s content to just chill at the merry-go-round, what do they do when they get some time alone with MC at the top of the Ferris wheel?

Thanks again and may the words you seek come to you in a flash!

Hiya Alby! I love this ask, and the words did come to me in a flash!

Below the cut ~

❤️ Cam - The first stop for Cam is for food. He will try to eat something from every booth. Get sick halfway through, then finish the others. Cam will want to attempt the rollercoaster he will be too queasy from overeating, and instead settle for something else. Ferris Wheel he loves it. There were many times Cam would sit with MC and not let Chris, just to enjoy the moment together. If in crushing stage he might hint, about how he always wanted to just spend time with MC at the top, just stay there for as long as possible. Relationship stage, Cam will begin to tease MC. Whisper in their ear, kissing their neck.

💙 G - So they will much prefer the fun house, or merry-go-round. More laid-back things. G will happily watch you go on the rollercoaster and if you do they will win you some prizes to make up for not joining. Crushing stage G will be so awkward on the Ferris wheel. Trying to keep from touching MC, slightly flustered. It's something people on dates do, is this a date? Relationship G will just hold Mc's hand, until back on the ground when they give a soft kiss and mention they enjoy just spending time with MC...even at an amusement park.

💚 Kara - She doesn't exactly like them. There is always something spilled on the ground, people being rude and disrespectful in her personal space. If MC wants to go bad enough, she will go with them. She would like the booths that offer jewelry, or shirts things she can have to remember the day. You're not getting her on the Ferris wheel, doesn't look safe at all. How about going and listening to some live music so she can dance with you instead?

💛 M - Like a kid in a candy store! M will want to try all the rides and check all the booths. You will be stuck there for so long, I feel for you. They want the weird inflatable hammer you win, toss balls in nets sure, throw balls in pots for a fish!? Wait, they will forget to feed it maybe not that one. M would love the amusement park, their favorite part will be the haunted house. They will be clinging to MC screaming as loud as they can. You might think it was a bad idea to take them in, but once out they want to go again. M would be so nervous on the Ferris wheel, they will be reminded of the scene from the notebook. They would expect a kiss while on it, I mean it's kind of routine right?

💜 Isaac - Rollercoaster first one on it, strength game, highest score. Shoot the bottles for prizes, beat it fast. If MC wants prizes from the amusement park, Isaac is the person to take. They are competitive, they will make sure to get you what you want. They won't care so much for the rides, maybe one or two. Preferably something lowkey, I mean...they won't admit their eyeing the merry-go-round but. If they get alone time with MC while in the relationship stage, they would have a heart-to-heart about their mom. How she would bring them as a kid. Mention offhand if they ever have a kid, they would like to do the same.

🖤 Ardent - No, nope not going. Don't pout it's not cute (it is). Alright fine, but only for an hour (more like three). Ardent is like the dad of the amusement park, he has brought his niece so much. He knows what rides are the safest, which booths have the best food, and which games are rigged. Expect him to be in dad mode. You can get him to join you on the ferris wheel. Once you two get to the top he will just take a deep breath relax, and try to put an arm around you. Enjoy the scenery maybe a kiss, oh you want more than that? Naughty lil thing.

[manicplank]

The Color Pink (Part 10)

Uhhh this one took me a while to get to bc my brain went on vacation.

Hazel had been on cloud nine since her last date with The Noise. Even though it had been days, it felt like it all happened yesterday. For some strange reason, life felt completely different. She found herself smiling a lot, especially when she thought of him. She was itching to see him again, but she didn't want to seem clingy. However, she couldn't seem to contain herself. It had been so long since she felt a love like this, and she wanted to cherish every moment. She paced back and forth as she waited for their usual 7 o'clock phone call. The phone rang, and she picked it up without hesitation; "Hi, Theo!"

"Hey! How-"

"We should go on another date!"

He chuckled. "Eager, aren't we?"

"Yeah, I am. Sorry," she laughed nervously.

"I mean, I don't disagree."

"Great!"

"What were you thinking we do?"

"Um... I didn't think about that."

"I don't have any ideas."

"Hmmm..."

They went silent for a minute.

"Oh!" Hazel said, "I got it! Why don't we go stargazing? There's an opening in Picnic Park where you can see the stars!"

"How... How does that work?"

"What?"

"How can we see the stars when we're in a tower?"

"I don't know. I try not to think about it too much, it gives me a headache."

"That's fair."

"Do you maybe want to do it tonight?"

"That's a little short notice. I'm also kind of tired."

"Right, right, right. Sorry. I'm just excited to see you."

He chuckled again. "It's okay. If you want, we can do it tomorrow night, though."

Hazel hummed in thought for a minute. "Oh, yeah, that actually works out better. I'm not opening the cafe tomorrow."

"How come?"

"I want a three day weekend. I need some time off."

"That's understandable. I do that every now and again. I can set my own hours sometimes. It has to be approved occasionally. There was one time I took a week off because I just didn't feel like going to work."

"Really? That sounds... nice."

"It is, but I got so behind. It was bad. So yeah, that's why some of my extra days off need to be pre-approved."

"I try not to take too many days off. I guess it really doesn't matter much since I don't get a lot of customers."

"Hey, what did I say about that mindset?"

"I know, I know. I'm just saying. As much as I enjoy The Vigilante's company, it gets a little tiring hearing him rambling on and on about justice and this and that."

"Ugh, you deserve an award for dealing with him so often. I can't stand that guy."

"He's uh... He's an acquired taste."

"He suuuuucks!"

"Oh, be nice."

"That's not really my thing."

"Mhm, okay. I call bullshit."

"Yeah? How come?"

"You're nice to me."

"Only to you."

She let out a small giggle. "I believe that."

"I hate to cut it short, but I'm feeling really tired. I'm probably gonna make some food and head to bed."

"Okay. What time do you want to meet up tomorrow?"

"How about 8 or 9?"

"Why so late?"

"I thought you wanted to go stargazing."

"Oh! Right!" She laughed.

"Okay, well... Goodnight, Hazel."

"Goodnight, Theodore."

-

Hazel had suffered through the anticipation of the whole day waiting for their date. The day went by so slowly. She felt as if she was stuck in waiting mode. She got ready in something casual. She left her hair as was. She put on a cute pink Hello Kitty t-shirt with some straight leg blue jeans and white sneakers. She felt that she had been overeager to see him, so she wanted to dress to impressive. Play it cool, she thought.

She called a cab and headed down to the Gnome Forest. She walked over to Picnic Park. She saw some goblins that looked unusually like The Noise. She actually thought one of them was him, but when she called to it, it didn't respond. When she got to the park, she saw The Noise waiting for her. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a yellow bomber jacket and blue jeans with black Vans. He ran up to her and picked her up with a spin. She laughed as she held on to his shoulder.

"Hey," she spoke through laughter.

"Hi," he chuckled. "I was waiting for you." He put her down softly.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be late."

"No, no, I got here kind of early. We didn't specify whether we were meeting at 8 or 9 so I got here at 8."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologizing! It's not your fault."

"Okay, okay." She giggled. "Here," she grabbed his hand. "I'll show you where the opening is."

"Heh heh..."

"What?"

He snickered. "Nothing, it's just the way you said that."

She smiled and shook her head. "You have a dirty mind."

He cackled as she tugged his arm. They came to a small area of grass. Above them was an opening in the trees that showed the night sky. Amazingly, the stars were bright and abundant. There were so many of them, which was funny considering they were inside a tower. Hazel looked at him and smiled when she saw him looking upward. "This is the spot I was telling you about."

"Yeah," he looked at her. "You weren't kidding."

"I mean, I haven't been here in a while. I really don't have to. If I want to go stargazing, all I would have to do is look at you."

He blushed and rubbed the back of his head. "Stop... I'm not that famous..."

"Are you kidding? You're like the most famous person in the tower. I think more people know you than Pizzaface."

"Whatever," he poked her, and she giggled.

Hazel sat down and so did Theo. They laid down slowly and looked up. The sky was pitch black, decorated with sparkling stars of white, red, green, and blue. The stars in the tower were so different from the stars outside. They had all sorts of different patterns and shapes.

"I remember," Theo spoke, "when I was a kid, we went to a planetarium as a school field trip. It was really cool."

"I went to one, too," Hazel responded, "my school did the same thing!"

"We got to see space ship equipment, pieces of space suits and meteorites. Then they took us to this dome room where they had all the stars. They showed us the constellations and told us their backstories."

"Really? I didn't get that experience as a kid."

"Yeah. The only constellation I can still spot is Orion. You can only see it during the winter. Well, it starts in the fall, and that's how I know winter's coming."

"That's really cool! I don't know where the constellations are. I only really know what they're called."

"I'm surprised no one's made up constellations for the stars in here."

"We could make some."

"Yeah, we could, but I'm not the most creative."

She looked at him. "Really? You, not the creative type?" She was very sarcastic.

He looked at her and laughed. "I guess I am, but not when it comes to constellations."

"Let's test it out." She pointed at a few stars in the shape of two squares. "How about that one?"

"Uhhh... A book, maybe?"

"Or nerdy glasses."

He chuckled. "That one kind of sucked."

She slapped his forearm. "Be nice!"

"I am!" He laughed.

She sighed, "I guess you're right. Two squares isn't the most impressive thing in the world."

"Hmmm..." He pointed at some stars in the shape of an asterisk. "How about that one?"

"Mmm... I don't really see anything."

"It's a flower." He grabbed her hand and traced the pattern with her finger.

"Oh! I see it now!"

He snickered. As she continued to stare at the stars, he turned his head to her. He observed her and how pretty she was. He scanned her from her head to her toes with a smile on his face. He was completely enamored by her. This beautiful girl lay beside him. He thought about how he was originally flirting with her out of lust, but quickly, he fell for her. He had never met anyone quite like her. She was so kind, upbeat, and outgoing. She brought out a side of him that he didn't even know existed. She turned her head to him and noticed him staring.

"Hi," she spoke.

"Hey," he replied.

"Why are you staring at me?"

"I don't know."

"You sure?"

"I... Heh, I don't know that either." He chuckled nervously.

"I have to ask you about something you said."

"Oh?"

"It was, uh... something you said when you were drunk."

His eyes widened, and his heart sank. "Oh..." He didn't remember what he had said to her.

"You told me... Well, you told me that you liked me."

"..." He stared at her in bewilderment.

"What did you mean by that?"

"Oh, well, um..." He looked up at the sky and gulped. "I, uh..." He took a deep breath and sighed. "Hazel... I like you. I like your eyes. I like your smile. I like the way you talk. I like the way your voice sounds. I like how you get excited over the smallest of things. I like how you squeak and hop around when you're happy. I like that you're resilient and don't give up when things get challenging. I like that you're authentically yourself no matter what. I like it when you come around, and I like it when you're there. I like that you treat me like a normal person. I like that you worry about me, like when it was raining and you were worried I'd get sick. I like that you're a bit assertive with me. I like that we call and talk on the phone every day. I like how soft your hands are, and I like when you let me hold them. I like it when we hug. A-a-and I liked it when we kissed. I like that you make me nervous but you also make me calm.

I like you, Hazel. I really, really do."

Hazel was smiling with tears in her eyes. "Wow, Theodore... That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

He sat up. "I just," he sighed, "I don't want to rush things. I don't want to get my heart broken, and I surely don't want to break yours. I guess, in a way, I'm afraid. I already feel like I don't deserve you, like you're too good for me. You're such a genuinely sweet and good person, and well... To be honest, when I first met you, I was only flirting with you to get lucky. And before I met you, I was basically an alcoholic. I drank before work, after work, in the morning, and before bed. I stopped drinking as much once we started talking. I'm still working on getting my drinking under control. I'm short-tempered and nasty. There's so many horrible, horrible things about me that you haven't seen yet. So many things that make me feel like I shouldn't be doing this with you." Theo sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Theodore, look," Hazel sat up, scooted next to him, and gently grabbed the side of his face to make him look at her. "I like you, too. I like how nervous you get. I like that you're pushing through that nervousness for me. I like that you care about me. I like that you try to help me out with my business. I like that you make time for me when you're so busy. I like your smile. I like your laugh. I like that you're so silly and goofy. I like that you're truthful with me. I like that you told me about all that.

But you know what I don't like? I don't like how hard you are on yourself. I don't like that you seem to think that you're such a horrible person. I don't like that you see all the good things in me but none of the good things about yourself. There are bad things about me, too. Things you haven't seen yet. Things that you're probably not going to like, things that I don't even like.

I think you're good enough for me. Matter of fact, I think you're even better than that. Come here."

She pulled him in for a hug. He sniffled again and shed a few silent tears into her shoulder. She pulled back to see that he was crying. She put her hands on his cheeks. "No tears," she said ever so softly. "I like you, too. Okay?"

He nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay."

She hugged him again and rubbed his back. She felt his whole body relax in her arms. He felt her shiver slightly and pulled back.

"Are you okay," he asked worriedly.

"I'm fine, I'm just a little cold." She smiled and shrugged.

He took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. "Here."

"Oh, no, no," she tried to stop him.

"No, you're cold."

"But you'll-"

"Hazel." He looked her in the eye. "You need this more than I do."

She smiled and blushed as she put her arms through the sleeves of the jacket. "Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I have a pretty good cold tolerance. I'll be fine."

They laid down side by side with their hands clasped together, their fingers intertwined. Hazel felt incredibly warm and safe with his jacket around her. She leaned her head on Theodore's shoulder as they continued to stargaze. They continued to point out silly shapes they noticed in the stars and gave them even sillier names. As the night continued on, things got quiet. Theo got a little concerned. He looked over to see that Hazel had dozed off on his shoulder. He smiled and snickered. He nudged her gently with his elbow to wake her up. She slowly picked her head up. Her eyes were squinted with confusion.

"Hey," he spoke under his breath.

"What happened," she muttered.

"You fell asleep."

She shot up. "Oh, my gosh! I'm so sorry!"

He sat up and laughed. "It's okay."

She covered her face in embarrassment. "I'm not usually up this late." She huffed. "I'm usually in bed super early so I can wake up early for the cafe."

"Do you wanna go home?"

"No! I mean, yeah, but..."

"Want me to take you home?"

"No, I'll call a cab this time. Thanks, though."

"Come on," he stood up and held his hand out. "I'll walk you to the street."

She grabbed his hand, and he helped her up. They walked slowly through the park with their hands held. Hazel was so flustered, she couldn't believe she fell asleep on him during their date! Theodore thought it was absolutely adorable that she felt safe enough with him to fall asleep on his shoulder. He wasn't at all mad. As they strolled towards the street, Theodore stopped her and leaned on a tree. He grabbed her other hand and held both of them.

"Why are we stopping?" She was incredibly confused.

Theodore's heart was racing. His legs were weak and felt like they could give out at any moment. With a nervous smile, he asked,

"Hazel... Will you be my girlfriend?"

Hazel's eyes grew wide and she gasped.

"Oh... My... Gosh!!!" She jumped up and down with her hands still in his. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! YESSS!!!" She let out a small squeal before she yanked him into hug, still hopping around and giggling in joy. When they pulled away from the hug, she grabbed the back of his head and kissed him deeply. She started to giggle and hop around again, her hands on his shoulders, his hands on hers. Her cab pulled up, and she looked at it before kissing him again.

"I have to go," she said with a giant smile.

"Yeah. I'll see you."

"Bye!" She pecked him on the lips one more time. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay?"

"Okay. Go home, go to bed." He pat her on the shoulder as she ran towards the cab.

He watched her run off with a giant smile on his face. She couldn't see it, but his face was beet red. He was so happy she said yes. He couldn't believe he finally worked up the courage to ask her. After the conversation they had before, he finally felt secure enough. He was a bit anxious, but he had to take the chance. And he was so glad he did.

That night, Hazel had trouble sleeping. She was suddenly struck with energy and excitement after he asked her out. She paced around her bedroom for a good hour before she settled down to sleep. She realized she forgot to give him back his jacket in her fit of exhilaration. But it was so soft and warm, and it smelled like him, too. She finally laid down, falling asleep while wearing his jacket.

[girlrandomstuff]

So, this is just me ranting about how much i do not like Anakin and Padme as both couple and individuals, but mostly as a couple. Long post

No hate to anyone who likes them, or for the actors who had play them, nor to George Lucas who created them. Let's start.

1. How they met

So The Phantom Menace starts. Padme is elected Queen of Naboo, and the Trade Federation is attacking the Planet, long story short cuz we all know it already, she has to run away but get stuck in a far planet. There she meets 9yo Anakin who is a slave, he's kinda smart and capable with machines. They help him win a race and the boy is set free but his mother has to stay behind. He's sad cuz he miss his mother and finds a good friend in Padme. Until there all is cool, they are both children.

2. Where their relationship really starts.

10 years had passed. Anakin is 19 and Padme is 24. He's send to protect her. They arrived in Naboo and when Padme is just trying to help with the situation Anakin starts to underestimate her and gets angry every time she shows him he needs her to be a succesful mission, I know he's a jedi and he may be the one to know better about protecting people, but if he really knew better he would know that a person that has live there for years is going to know better than him and he just seems angry and proud and can barely bring himself to admit she knows better than him. Then they get into a picnic and spend a good day just talking and playing, BUT Anakin literally started sharing VERY authoritarian and f*cist views and Padme is just like “you are so funny”. First time Padme ignores Anakin being abussive, or possesive or violent or any other toxic behavior. He kisses her and then a few hours later he literally says to her “I'm in agony for the kiss you should have never given to me” if that's not manipulative behavior i don't know what it is, she tries to tell Anakin to think clear and send him away, but then a few days later, Anakin commits his first massacre of women and children and admited to her all that and she's just like “to be angry is to be human”. She literally saw him in one of his most violent behaviors and just shoved it away. Second time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. They leave Tatooine, fight side by side, survived and married each other a few days later. Padme literally marry Anakin just days after he tells her he killed children.

3. The Clone Wars.

They have good moments and they had bad moments. But then a year or two had passed and Padme is helping fighting the war within the senate. Things happens and Clovis comes back to Padme's life. He lies and she believes him. Things scalate and she starts working with Clovis, at this Anakin literally tells her “as your husband I demand”, he may be right about Clovis, he was not one to trust, maybe Padme was wrong, but thinking that cuz you are married to someone you can demand something from the other is just wrong. First time Anakin despites Padme's work. Things gets even worst when Clovis tries to kiss Padme and Anakin walks in the middle of it. He was right to be angry and to get him away from her. BUT what was not right is him going full Vader mode trying to kill him, the moment he hears Padme asking him/them to stop, Anakin points at her and says “YOU DON'T HAVE A SAY IN THIS”, he doesn't care about Padme or protecting her or respecting her, it was about him and his jelousy, it was him, saying “she's mine, you are mine”. He never even asked her if she's right, he even thinks she was part of this, that she was cheating on him. Then Padme tells him a bunch of truths but it's for nothing cuz a few days she forgets everything and forgives Anakin. Third time Padme forgives Anakin toxic behavior.

3. Anakin fall.

So, Anakin is back in Coruscant after being away for a while. Padme waits for him and they reunite. Padme tells him she's pregnant and regardless of what many post says about Anakin smiling when he realizes he's going to be a father, he literally has the worst look ever, he's worried and even upset at what Padme is saying and he only pulls up a smile when he realizes she's looking at him and waiting for his reaction.

Then, they go back home, he gets nightmares about Padme dying, and he is worried about her, of course, any partner would be worried too. But what's not okay is that, he doesn't care about his child, he never thinks about the baby when he's seeing Padme die in childbirth. He only mentions their child until Padme asks him about the baby, and he only answer “I don't know” he doesn't even question himself about them, again, he just cracks a smile and sweet words when he sees Padme worry about the things they talked. Days pass by and Padme asked Anakin to speak to the Chancellor in good faith to stop the war so they can start fixing everything that is bad and Anakin snaps at her with “dont ask me to do that, do it yourself in the senate”, so, he gets to demand but she doesn't get to ask something from him? What a man Anakin Skywalker is. Second time Anakin desdain Padme's work. Sith happens and starts Order 66, he doesn't leave a single soul alive. Not even the children. He comes back fully turned and tells Padme he's leaving on a mission. Obi Wan goes and talk with Padme telling her everything, he literally tells her “Anakin killed children” and she answers “he wouldn't” when she knew he would CUZ ANAKIN LITERALLY TOLD HER HE ALREADY SLAUGHTER CHILDREN BEFORE. Fourth time Padme ignores Anakin violent behavior. She reproches Obi Wan he just wants to kill him like OF COURSE, he had literally massacre in cold blood hundreds of man, women and children, he's fully dark side mode and he's still the most powerful force sensitive being. At this point Anakin deserves to die, he needs to die cuz he could literally bring the entire galaxy down if he wanted and she knows, and still she doesn't care about anyone else but him and her (I mean of course having to accept your husband and father of your unborn children needs to face consecuences for his actions is hard but after all the inocent blood he droped i think any good soul would accept it as hard as it would be).

Then she runs to him, Padme tells Anakin everything Obi Wan told her about him, and he never denied it. So Padme starts yo realizes the true, now she knows it was all true, and even after she knows that Anakin massacre children and his fellow men and women, she stills asks a children-murderer-Sith to “run away with her and HELPS HER TO RAISE THEIR CHILD” who in their sane minds would ask a man who AGAIN, killed children to help her raise their baby? WHO? Fifth time Padme is willing to ignore Anakin's violence. Sith happens and Anakin thinks again she lies and chokes her. No matter what, a healthy couple would never end in one trying to kill the other, NO MATTER WHAT. Anakin choking Padme was just his last violent, toxic and possesive act against her.

Then to conclude everything, she goes into labor and Luke and Leia are born. But she's heart broken for Anakin, she's so heartbroken she doesn't want to live, cuz everything that happened. And for the ones who would say “you can't blame Padme for dying” the medical droid literally said she was fine but she didn't wanted to live anymore. She was more worried about Anakin “wheres Anakin?” than for her child(ren). Her last words are not even for her children, they are for Anakin, she literally believe there was still light in a man who literally had his hands wet with children blood. I do believe Padme didn't really care about her children, she barely gives them names but is never concerned about their wellbeing or anything.

And don't get me wrong, I can understand people losing every sanity they had left after Order 66

Ahsoka was attacked by her own men, men she saw as her brothers, good friends, who fought side by side with her, who help her train, she barely get out alive, and she had to see how all these good men were turned to puppets, had to see how every man died, not even as free men, and it took her 1-2 years to step back into the fight.

Obi Wan same thing, he had to see how men he trusted turned against him and try to kill him, only to come back and see one of the people behind all this crimes is the young man he had trained since he was just a little boy, even with all his pain he is willing to fight Anakin, maybe not kill him cuz he thinks leaving him burned was going to be enough to stop him, but he literally fight him, he has to see how his family was slaughter, how his home was burned down and how his brother betrays him and them all, and it took him 10 years to step back into the fight and overcome his grieve.

Bail Organa, the man saw as the Clones attacked the Jedi Temple, saw it burning, saw how they killed a child as he couldn't do anything to stop it, he saw his life work falling into pieces as he wasn't able to stop it, and he never stoped fighting, the moment he scaped the Temple, he jumps into help any jedi he can find, rescued Yoda and Obi Wan, helps Yoda scape from Darth Sidious, and helps Padme get medical treatment, he jumps in to adopt an orphan baby, and just a couple days later he offers Ahsoka help and comfort. Months pass, years pass and he never quited the fight, he always kept going, he never stoped, even when even a year after Order 66 he still dealing with trauma.

[jojos-bizarre-imagines]

i finished og obey me in 7 months f2p: my cards + strategies

started playing in late june, finished today. probably could've done it in 5-6 months if i hadn't wasted so many resources in the beginning. this is the main story only, i still haven't gotten through all of hard mode

tips/what i did:

- logged on every day, did dailies most days

- played every event in the beginning even if i didn't care for the cards because u can quickly get dp and dv. focused on playing only the event to get the most resources from it and only played the main game in between events

- play the cards you're dealt. you don't need tons of URs to finish the game as long as you level up the ones you do have. and focus on leveling URs before resorting to SSRs

- only pulled for cards to try to get my 2 favorite characters, every other nightmare i just ignored. pro tip: have simeon and diavolo as your faves, it's a great way to save DV because they never get any damn cards -_-

- only used grimm to level up cards and unlock chats/more power in devil's tree. fuck an icon or an outfit you can see those for free on google images. be practical

- bought the level up sale for 99dp every time to get glowsticks and DV on the cheap, made sure to always have at least 99dp saved for that. and that's all i ever rly spent dp on except for stupid things when i first started playing

- you can pass most battles even with a frowny face icon if your power is less than 40,000 points below the enemy team's. except when the opponents have annoying abilities like the zombie or frog. fuck those abilities fr

- use glowsticks sparingly. but not too sparingly. if i had a card with one of the attributes i needed i would wait to level it up until i could do the battle without glowsticks. except near the end when i lost patience and zipped through season 4 in a week because i had over 100 rainbow glowsticks saved. i still have like 70 left i overestimated how many i needed to hoard

- if i don't pass a battle i X out of the app and reopen it and play it again until i win so i don't lose AP

my current cards:

hope this helps some of y'all who have been stuck in the early lessons for a while ^_^

[troglobite]

lskdjf

christ this is the most melodramatic self-pitying bullshit i've ranted about in a LONG time, just leave it be, honestly.

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all i do is spend time alone

and sometimes there are good conversations through text (hello, you know who you are lol)

but i'm physically so alone.

and so i just want to spend Time Together.

but she spends every day with every person in the world demanding things of her.

she wants to watch stuff to relax and unwind.

i do it all day to fill my empty useless time feeling bad and lonely and like a loser because i have nothing in my life.

and i do my best to let her have that time because it's sacred and important and rare, and i get it

but also i just don't want to be alone

i want to spend time together and watch stuff and hang out and be in the same room even if we're not doing stuff

and we kind of did that yesterday. kind of. we both fell asleep. and she had shit to do. and i didn't. and i'm just tired and miserable.

and honestly having nothing to do and nothing to talk about wrt my life means i don't like talking to other people. i'm miserable to talk to. i don't HAVE anything interesting to say. i'm just sad and tired and stuck in waiting mode.

and so the only person who i'm completely comfortable around, who i WANT to be around, who is HERE for me to be around, no expectations or anything--

she needs to NOT be around people at all, including me.

and i get it. i'm not HURT by it. i don't take it personally. it's not that.

i'm just sad and pathetic and alone. and i don't have the kinds of relationships with people online, etc., that are fulfilling in the same way. i'm on guard in some way or On wrt my brain in some way, and typing is an effort where making a face or a sound effect isn't, for me.

and mostly it just gives me time to think about how disappointing i am.

i get it--every year fewer people remember my birthday. even the ones who get fb notifications for it. lol

i don't reach out. i'm not active anywhere. my life is stymied by covid and disability.

and i AM grateful for the ppl in my life who i love and love me.

that's not the problem or whatever.

it's just feeling like i'm disappearing into a black hole. no longer feelings like i'm a whole person. i'm scraps of my personality and interests over time.

and it just takes so much effort to make friends and talk to people and learn new things--and every time i'm like, for what?

spend that effort and then what? then what do i do? then what happens?

that's so much effort and i just don't think i'm currently stable and strong enough to weather a lot of rejection and hardship. i fully admit i'm weak and pathetic, honestly. in a LOT of way.

this is why i don't do "inner child" work. not only do i resent younger me for all of that shit, for being annoying and irritating and whatever else, maybe even selfish, i also resent them because they ended up HERE.

and i KNOW they'd resent and fear me.

they had such lofty ideas of who they'd grow up to be. and i've met exactly none of them. not even the backup to the backup ideas.

i haven't lived a life. i haven't DONE anything.

i truly, TRULY feel like i'm a background character who could very easily be erased and forgotten. people would go on the fanwiki or similar page and i'd be a stub article and people would go "wait, who? OHHHH right, THAT one. huh. yeah i never noticed they just disappeared. weird. oh well, that happens."

i am so many of my child-self's worst fears realized, and not in a way that makes me feel spitefully proud in the face of the world's bullshit.

being alone. being highly dependent. not achieving anything. having no/very few friends. not being successful.

i was afraid of being gay and i am but like so what? i've had no relationship or dating life to speak of. so i am both gay, what i was afraid of, and alone, what i was afraid of. hilarious.

i live at home and i'm now at the very beginning of my 30th year of life. what am i even DOING?

and i know. many parts of this aren't like. MY fault.

i didn't make the pandemic. i didn't choose capitalism and imperialism and state-sanctioned genocides of multiple kinds and government "failures" (because they did exactly what they wanted to do).

and before that, i didn't choose for people to traumatize me into being afraid of doing anything in my life.

i didn't even choose to be BORN.

i chose and loved many things over the course of my life so far but so quietly. and only for praise. because that was the only way to feel momentarily Safe.

i am an intrusion to so many people in so many ways, and it really hurts when i'm reminded of that.

and i don't really know how to stop it because i'm just afraid. the risks are too great.

and i'm sure my therapist wants to punch me sometimes for being like this. for being like "yeah, i see your suggestions. i see these different options. the risks of them are not worth the possible outcomes, especially knowing that i would absolutely have to deal with NEGATIVE outcomes before reaching any good stuff."

i also hate when people are like this. like me.

they know what the problem is but they refuse to do anything about it

i guess i just feel like--i've TRIED. i've TRIED to do things about it. i've TRIED things that were scary. but they came with too many other scary things and i didn't know how to handle them or what to do.

i still occasionally think about the social hour that the grad program i entered had when we were all visiting. we got taken on a tour, they took us to the department's favorite bar/hangout spot.

and i tried socializing. i tried being normal and talking. but i was going to head out early just to save myself, and i don't drink. i don't drink, so they immediately thought it was weird.

and i just remember everybody at the table tapering off and going to the literal adjacent table and turning their backs to me and leaving me with a guy that none of them liked.

i was really trying. i was trying to ask questions and be involved and engage with the stuff they brought up.

i can't do a play by play to figure out what i did wrong. it was 4.5-5 years ago at this point, it wasn't recorded.

but somehow i still did it wrong.

it's not that the people in my life aren't enough. it's that i don't feel like enough for them or anyone else.

i wish i was Less of what/who i am and More of a better and more interesting and happier person.

and most days i can just coast by and not think about it too deeply.

but i've spent all day in my room because our house is small and there's only one big tv and my mom's been watching movies and shows all day. and she doesn't get to do it often. and everybody always needs something from her. and this is her only real alone time to veg out and relax and enjoy media and Not Think.

so i HAVE to give that to her. i WANT to. i want her to be happy and enjoy things and have time.

i do this a lot. as much as i can pretty much every weekend.

it's just different because my birthday felt like a waste and a disappointment and so did yesterday and now so is today and i'm just wondering what the fucking point of anything is.

and it's stupid but we watched stepbrothers last night and like--listen, all nuance and critique and whatever aside, it's funny. it's a silly ridiculous thing to have on tv and zone out for the night and talk during commercials etc.

but it just. every time, now. i am becoming the people they make fun of all the time for still living with their parents and not having a real job and never having had any real relationships and like zero friends and no life and just staying at home.

they made a whole movie about how i and people like me are complete laughable failures.

they don't even think of it that way, honestly, because the comedy angle of the movie is actually quite specific. it start with the premise but stays in the Ridiculous and Farcical and goes from there.

but 40 year old virgin

"living in their mom's basement" type shit

like it doesn't MATTER to me that these are capitalistic standards people have adopted without thinking. it doesn't MATTER that these are values that i don't hold, that i mock and deride. it doesn't matter how much my therapist is like "internalized ableism"--yes, it's true, whatever.

my problem is that if my failures weren't the kind of fodder for public mockery that makes millions of dollars and makes people laugh all the time--including me!--i might not feel so fucking stuck and stupid.

but my life is such a disappointment.

"pleasure to have in class" "bright future" "we need people like you in the field" "you're too good to just give up, but i also respect that you know yourself and your life better" "of course you passed, now we're just talking about paperwork" "please keep in touch and let me know how things are going on! i absolutely want to hear!"

no you don't.

you might've if i'd done anything.

i'm an empty useless wasted husk of a person and all the time i feel apologetic for inflicting myself on people, and on the flipside never being enough for them. i hold back. i'm not myself partly because i'm afraid of the consequence and partly because i don't even know who/what i am. because if you strip away all the superficial shit about things i like or watch or whatever, what even is left? a mean bitter loser who completely wasted their life and potential? someone who hasn't even been through enough bullshit & trauma to be sympathetic? and to be clear i mean that nothing i've been through is bad enough for anyone to really. Care. it's all so middle of the road boring stupid "jfc, you were traumatized by THAT?" type shit. i have like. barely any stories of how "bad" everything was.

everything was bad because i'm bad.

like for example

that thing going around about cutting kids' sandwiches in fucked up ways on purpose to make the kids exasperated or amused?

i legitimately think i would've cried or panicked about that as a kid.

why?

WHY?

i would've been like--did i do something wrong? did i miss something? is this normal?

and then finding out that it was a joke i would've been like

oh. okay. i didn't react right. i didn't laugh. and now people are laughing AT me. and i fucked up. and now my sandwich isn't even right. but who am i to demand a fucking sandwich cut the "right" way? i should just make it myself.

i would've felt destabilized by the idea that my parents would disrupt the predictability of my lunch for the day by doing that, and making all the sandwich stuff unevenly distributed and difficult to eat.

because apparently THAT'S who i am as a person.

every autistic and adhd person i know has thought that was hilarious.

and i also think it's funny!

i just wouldn't have as a kid.

why am i like this? why can't i STOP being like this?

i just don't think i've offered much to the world or Been enough in general to justify existing.

to be clear, dying on purpose is not a possibility for me as i see it. 1. i'm too afraid. 2. i know at least some people would be sad. 3. it would be too much effort and work and trauma for other people.

it's best if i just completely fix myself or just quietly disappear as much as i can. and i try. but i hate it.

what do i even WANT as the alternative? i don't like being around a lot of people all the time. i hate having expectations on me. i struggle even replying to DMs and texts most of the time. i left someone on read for 2 weeks because i was tired and distracted, and when i replied i lied and said that instagram hid the notif from me and i didn't see until someone else dmed me.

eating is hard. i'm tired of all the same shit all the time. but i'm too tired and uninspired to cook. it's too likely that i'll get it wrong or not notice a missing ingredient until it's too late. i've done that every time i've tried to make dinner to help my mom.

i'm truly just an epic fucking waste of space and money. and i try to be happy and change myself in any way to make life easier for the people around me.

i try to keep doing what i've been told to do, and keep reaching out to friends even when they don't reach out first. and it never helps.

it never gets better.

i fulfill specific roles/needs for them and anything outside of that is just too much, apparently, and they do it begrudgingly.

i hate feeling like people pity me but resent that they pity me.

but it's reality.

just fuck all of this i'm so fucking done.

[smokeybrandreviews]

Honey Trap Huntress

Azur Lane has been pretty quiet as of late. Not many Reruns or new Events. I mean, there have been and I've cleaned up or whatever but, so far this year, sh*t has been kind of sparse. Compared to last year, it’s been absolutely anemic. Now, I'm not too mad about it. I’ve been steadily trucking along, working on building up my SN dock, the Seasonal Cruise has gone a long way to finishing that sh*t up, and have even been dabbling with the Itais a bit, just to shore up time, but I'd be lying if i said it’s been rough going. I appreciate the ample opportunity to kind of catch up but, like, what’s up with a Shimakaze or Kronshtadt Rerun? I figure while i wait for Manjuu and Yostar to put out something worth doing, I'd tumble back down that Gacha rabbit hole and see what else is out there. What i ended up landing on was Idle Huntress: Adventure.

Idle Huntress is an unapologetic Waifu Collector. Every costume is Live 2D, the reason i opted to give this thing a shot in the first place, and the overall art is pretty solid. It’s only been a round for a year so the player base isn’t the highest but, at the same time, that means when you start, you have a solid show a developing your Roster fairly quickly. Kind of. I’ll get to hat in a minute. Huntress is an Idle type Gacha which means you accumulate rewards passively. The higher your overall level, he more time you can spend just stacking chips. I’m at level five right now and the max time i have to accumulate Idle rewards is sixteen hours. I read somewhere that it ops out at thirty-six or something but that’s another issue for later. Even though it is an Idle game, there are a ton of other things for you to do. There’s Arenas, Guild Raids, a story mode kind of, Boss Raids, Tower Attack, and a lot more. Beyond that, this thing has one of the deepest customization aspects I've seen in a Gacha. sh*t is a legit RPG in that way and it makes for some pretty time consuming tweaking. Idle Huntress is a JRPG Player’s dream but that sh*t will fast turn into a nightmare if you’re not careful.

he biggest thing holding Huntress back is that level wall. I’ve been playing this thing for six days and I've already got to a point where i can’t pas without dropping them duckets, and sh* ain’t cheap. I have a on of SSR Huntresses, a few f them leveled one hundred, one of them at level one hundred and thirty. I can’ get past the level ten boss. It’s insane. Literally, the way you add Stars, basically raise the overall Level Cap for your Huntress, is f*cking insane and absolutely forces you into a pay-to-win scenarios lest you be stuck grinding out the necessary Puzzle Pieces to actually improve your roster. When i started, i was gifted the SSR Octavia, who is absolutely broken, bu it has been a struggle getting her to four Stars. Bro, there’s six total! The overall cap is two hundred! I still have seventy levels to go and, with the escalation in cost to make these evolution happen, I'm looking at hundreds of dollars and a ridiculous amount of time if i want to max out the other twenty-one SSR Huntresses i have on my Roster! And the only reason Octavia is as far along as she is, is because i get her pieces for accomplishing tasks, LIKE COMPLETING LEVEL TEN! WHICH I CAN’T COMPLETE BECAUSE THE REST OF MY ROSTER IS WILDLY UNDER LEVELED! Also, there’s, like, no resources for this thing online. It’s like pulling eye teeth trying to figure out how to just navigate menus.

Overall, Idle Huntress is fine. It’s a nice waste of time but not something you should really invest in if you have issues with impulse control. his “game” will absolutely violate your pockets, man. The grind is fine until you hit that wall and then it’s just goddamn egregious. I heard Genshin does the same thing, kind of, but i don’t play that so i can’t say for sure. I can say, however, that Idle Huntress is a f*cking trap. It’s a money sink that appeals to the eechiest aspects of our weeaboo personalities. The art, live 2D, and overall RPG aspects are dope as f*ck. I’d be lying if i said i don’t find a weirdly satisfying sense of accomplishment when i level up a Huntress and finally beat a level I've been trying to conqueror for a few days, but f*ck that level wall to all hell. I think I've spent, like, forty bucks on this game and feel like that’s all i want to invest in it. I don’t see myself deleting the game because, let’s be honest, i only have to really log in for an hour a day to cash out the numerous rewards but, if i wasn’t invested in Octavius as a character, i would have dropped this thing day two. Idle Huntress is fine but probably not worth the install unless you can manage monotony as well as i can.

[smokeybrand]

Honey Trap Huntress

Azur Lane has been pretty quiet as of late. Not many Reruns or new Events. I mean, there have been and I've cleaned up or whatever but, so far this year, sh*t has been kind of sparse. Compared to last year, it’s been absolutely anemic. Now, I'm not too mad about it. I’ve been steadily trucking along, working on building up my SN dock, the Seasonal Cruise has gone a long way to finishing that sh*t up, and have even been dabbling with the Itais a bit, just to shore up time, but I'd be lying if i said it’s been rough going. I appreciate the ample opportunity to kind of catch up but, like, what’s up with a Shimakaze or Kronshtadt Rerun? I figure while i wait for Manjuu and Yostar to put out something worth doing, I'd tumble back down that Gacha rabbit hole and see what else is out there. What i ended up landing on was Idle Huntress: Adventure.

Idle Huntress is an unapologetic Waifu Collector. Every costume is Live 2D, the reason i opted to give this thing a shot in the first place, and the overall art is pretty solid. It’s only been a round for a year so the player base isn’t the highest but, at the same time, that means when you start, you have a solid show a developing your Roster fairly quickly. Kind of. I’ll get to hat in a minute. Huntress is an Idle type Gacha which means you accumulate rewards passively. The higher your overall level, he more time you can spend just stacking chips. I’m at level five right now and the max time i have to accumulate Idle rewards is sixteen hours. I read somewhere that it ops out at thirty-six or something but that’s another issue for later. Even though it is an Idle game, there are a ton of other things for you to do. There’s Arenas, Guild Raids, a story mode kind of, Boss Raids, Tower Attack, and a lot more. Beyond that, this thing has one of the deepest customization aspects I've seen in a Gacha. sh*t is a legit RPG in that way and it makes for some pretty time consuming tweaking. Idle Huntress is a JRPG Player’s dream but that sh*t will fast turn into a nightmare if you’re not careful.

he biggest thing holding Huntress back is that level wall. I’ve been playing this thing for six days and I've already got to a point where i can’t pas without dropping them duckets, and sh* ain’t cheap. I have a on of SSR Huntresses, a few f them leveled one hundred, one of them at level one hundred and thirty. I can’ get past the level ten boss. It’s insane. Literally, the way you add Stars, basically raise the overall Level Cap for your Huntress, is f*cking insane and absolutely forces you into a pay-to-win scenarios lest you be stuck grinding out the necessary Puzzle Pieces to actually improve your roster. When i started, i was gifted the SSR Octavia, who is absolutely broken, bu it has been a struggle getting her to four Stars. Bro, there’s six total! The overall cap is two hundred! I still have seventy levels to go and, with the escalation in cost to make these evolution happen, I'm looking at hundreds of dollars and a ridiculous amount of time if i want to max out the other twenty-one SSR Huntresses i have on my Roster! And the only reason Octavia is as far along as she is, is because i get her pieces for accomplishing tasks, LIKE COMPLETING LEVEL TEN! WHICH I CAN’T COMPLETE BECAUSE THE REST OF MY ROSTER IS WILDLY UNDER LEVELED! Also, there’s, like, no resources for this thing online. It’s like pulling eye teeth trying to figure out how to just navigate menus.

Overall, Idle Huntress is fine. It’s a nice waste of time but not something you should really invest in if you have issues with impulse control. his “game” will absolutely violate your pockets, man. The grind is fine until you hit that wall and then it’s just goddamn egregious. I heard Genshin does the same thing, kind of, but i don’t play that so i can’t say for sure. I can say, however, that Idle Huntress is a f*cking trap. It’s a money sink that appeals to the eechiest aspects of our weeaboo personalities. The art, live 2D, and overall RPG aspects are dope as f*ck. I’d be lying if i said i don’t find a weirdly satisfying sense of accomplishment when i level up a Huntress and finally beat a level I've been trying to conqueror for a few days, but f*ck that level wall to all hell. I think I've spent, like, forty bucks on this game and feel like that’s all i want to invest in it. I don’t see myself deleting the game because, let’s be honest, i only have to really log in for an hour a day to cash out the numerous rewards but, if i wasn’t invested in Octavius as a character, i would have dropped this thing day two. Idle Huntress is fine but probably not worth the install unless you can manage monotony as well as i can.

[libartz]

Day 7 of Downpour

Gourmand is done. Rivulet begins. Artificer explores.

The last item on Gourmand's list was a red centipede so I went back to garbage wastes where I saw one last. That was HARD to kill, died so many times. I had to go to the wiki for strategies and it said spore puffs damage it, and Gourmand can craft them from a rock and a mushroom. I made 3 of them, then went on the attack and killed it with help from some scavengers.

Then I went to ascend the usual way. I could've jumped around some more looking for new regions but I really wanted to play the spearmaster. Gosh the ending is gorgeous, my only problem with it is it takes SO LONG to get through the ending sequence.

I lost it seeing the chonky ghost on the main menu XD

Rivulet

I decided to go Rivulet instead, because Artificer is already extremely stabby and I wanted to have a chill playthrough at the same time.

We begin in the drainage system, which again, is not that bad. Rivulet is very fast and springy, which is great because I was admittedly getting impatient with the slowness as Gourmand. Breathing underwater is also great. I was stuck down a hole when the rain arrived and I was able to just wait for the room to flood and swim up to the shelter. I assume if I stayed out there for a very long time I'd die though.

MY GOD I got a 6-pip long cycle. This is insane. Shelters also still fail in this mode. Garbage wastes has less rot but there is still a bro in the pool. Red centipedes (my beloathed) are absurdly fast and I kept dying to one that I could not outrun. I have to keep moving because shelters fail every other cycle. So Rivulet is not at all chill. And yes it is possible to drown, it just takes maybe a minute and a half (don't quote me, I didn't count).

With the shelter fails there are a lot of cycles in the quasi-rain that doesn't quite kill you. This leads to hiding under bits of landscape, and swimming through flooded rooms. The other creatures try to come out. It was really funny to me to encounter the aboveground scav toll in garbage wastes and they're just chilling in the literally torrential rain.

I have made it to shoreline. My beloathed. The land of my people. It should be interesting. It's good that it's now much easier to dive down and reach those underwater pipes, and traversing certain areas should no longer rely on a jetfish to get underwater without drowning. Waiting for one to turn up annoys me, but at least when one does you have control. Makes them much less bad than reindeers.

I starved after being cornered in a shelter in a flooded room with a salamander in it after having found no food. I got progress towards an achievement called the Martyr?

There's this scary new area of flooded pipes near the lower right of the region. I also ran into giant swimming centipedes and swimming green lizards.

I made it to Moon, and I can already talk to her somehow. She's wearing a little white outfit, and starts with more neurons. She doesn't know which iterator gave the mark, and she basically told me to run far away because of the hazardous rain, and said it's because Five Pebbles is doing real bad. I might try to go to him next. I started with a stored pearl, which is an iterator superstructure diagram that Moon really liked. I might try to go to pebbles next, but apparently it'll be dangerous.

Artificer

I love the shelters in metropolis, in the ones I've been in the city outside is visible and it's not just a dark background.

It's such a good region, the platforming with the boom jumping is so fun. The scavs are the worst part of it though, if it weren't for them I'd be having a better time.

I am still dying a lot, but I found an area, something about the pillar of the House of Braids. The gravity is low in places and I found a room with scattered neurons and a hydra, but was killed by a spear. I think the hydra was trying to kill the scavs in the bottom right and hit me instead. I managed to go there again and get a neuron so now I am finally shiny. You can boom jump in zero gravity to change direction, which makes it much easier to get around.

I also found a new echo! To find it go up. Its dialogue was nice and specific to the artificer. I think I agree, I'm sick of scav-killing mostly because I keep dying. I feel like a ninja whenever I manage to kill multiple though

I think I figured out why they removed the wall pounce ability. I keep almost flinging myself to my death when jumping around.

While trying to find a shelter in the new subregion I went on an adventure and ended up finding one in a subterranean-like area which had miros birds in it. I do not like this area and I want to leave.

I also found a new echo! To find it go up. Its dialogue was nice and specific to the artificer. I think I agree, I'm sick of scav-killing mostly because I keep dying.

I think I figured out why they removed the wall pounce ability. I keep almost flinging myself to my death when jumping around.

[hangmanssunnies]

I'm overwhelmed. Thank you for reading this fic, and thank you so much for leaving comments on all three parts. Your comment's definitely made me tear up, and I had way too many thoughts after reading them.

I really didn't ever let them properly talk about Jake's ghosting in its entirety which is one of the things I maybe regret and will probably address in the re-edit I've been doing for this fic. However, I think it wasn't just because of how difficult it was for Hangman to be distracted but also because he really didn't know what to do with the feeling he had or how to talk about what happened. I think Jake felt extremely guilty for having slept with Sugar right before leaving like it was coerced in some twisted way via his circumstances. Making love to someone right after plainly telling them you can't love them back. Spotify play "All I Ask" by Adele. 😭

An additional reason for the radio silence was Jake was also terrified of anything changing, and he knows he did something very life-changing sleeping together before leaving. I think he really got stuck in this mode, of neurodivergent dread almost. For me personally, I get frozen when something important needs to happen or get done. My brain will literally be screaming at the top of its lungs and degrading me on how I need to get something done or say something, and despite that, I just can't. Instead, I become paralyzed, and it's physically impossible to do whatever I need to. None of this is to say it was okay or right what Jake did. I know it, you know it, HE knows it too. He thought Sugar should have burned the house down too.

I'm glad you thought the resolution I came to felt satisfying. I really grappled with what he did for a long time and how to fix it. Because it was a really terrible thing to do to someone, and we couldn't just forgive and forget, and everything for everyone is all perfect the moment he came home. He has trauma our reader here also has trauma. You're right in that they were really negatively affecting each other in some ways for a bit, but it was so much because they weren't talking. I think in relationships, you have to choose to love someone each day and choose to do what you can to be good for them. Jake is certainly lucky to have someone who was willing to go through this all and be patiently waiting for him.

There was a while there that I wasn't sure I could pull together a realistic happy ending for this story and repair the damage that happened. However, thank god for @bradshawsbitch because she was the one who kept talking sense (and threatening when I needed it) that there be a happy ending. Otherwise, I might have just killed Jake and made Bob into Mr. Steal your girl. Jake wasn't the only one who needed to pick a plot line and stick with it. 😅 I think now that these two are together and have worked stuff out, they really are on track to have a good life together. They are also almost annoyingly love-sick now that they have finally admitted their feelings. Every post-story drabble and idea I've had for these two has almost been too sweet, like ouchie I'm going to get a cavity.

Anyways, sorry for this extremely long response full of unnecessary details to your reblog. Thank you so so much for reading this story and leaving your thoughts on it. I always love to hear how other ND! people feel about this story and especially about Jake. I appreciate you so much, I know this took me a while to respond to, but it was because I kept getting so giddy and overwhelmed by your comments in the best way. 💗💗

Good Comes In 3

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary:  You and Jake navigate what it means to spend six months apart. Then, when he does come home, you two have to evaluate precisely what feelings you have for each other and also what a future together could mean. You just aren't sure he will ever forgive you for starting a puzzle without him. 

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 34K

AO3 Link

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Abuse (Implied), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, Rejection, Drinking, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, Fertility problems, miscarriage (discussed), menstruation (discussed and lightly described), close female friendships, Depressive episodes, PTSD, roommates to lovers, love confessions, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.

An: Unfortunately this last part was too long to post altogether here on Tumblr. So I have included the first half here, the rest can be read on AO3 though. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you all for loving this version of Jake. There were so many things I wanted to include and finish off for these two. While I couldn't include everything, I hope you enjoy what I did.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

"Jake looked tired. Has he told you how he's been sleeping?" Marlee asks you curiously while chatting with you on the phone. The question causes your stomach to roll in a deep dive, and it takes you a moment to find the composure to respond. 

"No, I haven't heard," you manage to tell her. Setting down the piece of fruit you had been about to eat, you lean back against the kitchen counter. 

"Ah, well, will you ask him about it whenever you next talk? He wouldn't answer Javy or me about it when we asked."

"You and Javy are joined at the hip, practically the same person sometimes. Do you find that shocking?" You ask Marlee teasingly. Marlee chuckles at your comment. Her smile betrays her true feelings, though she likes how in sync she and Javy are generally considered. 

"We are sometimes." Marlee concedes but then says frankly, "But even when Javy had his individual call with Jake, he wouldn't say. And you are the only other person I can imagine him opening up to," 

"I'll mention it next time I talk to him," you manage to say. It would just be one of the many things that you were supposed to be talking to Jake about on his deployment. It was easier to go along with their assumption than to flay your chest open and let the hurt you felt pour out. 

Sometimes it's better, easier, to keep the kind of pain you felt to yourself. Bundled close and protected. To expose it would just make it hurt all the more. The idea of anyone, especially your closest friends, knowing you weren't important enough, or you had scared Jake away, or made some other mishap was mortifying. How could you go about explaining what had transpired? You weren't sure you could explain it. Also, Javy and Marlee had plenty of other things and people to worry about without having to add you higher on their list than you were already placed. You felt bad each week when one of them called you to check in begging, sometimes demanding that you hang out with them. 

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then, babes. I love you!"

"I love you too, Marlee," you say, giving her the sweetest, kindest tone you can muster up. You end the call and walk over to the chalkboard in the kitchen. 

Jake normally would draw seasonal decorations on it, but you had cleared it to be blank for notes months ago. The only thing on the board is a list you had titled: things to talk to Jake about. You add 'sleeping habits' to the bottom and frown. Reading through the list makes tears prick at the back of your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. You hold the eraser poised for a moment, ready to trash the entire list, but you don't manage to follow through and drop the eraser, letting it fall to the ground. 

You walk through the house, checking the locks and turning off the lights. The sadness and frustration you feel in you is still bubbling as you pass where Jake had unceremoniously left the large Juniper chest. You glare at it just like you do every night. 

The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower. While he was occupied you stole one of his large Navy shirts that had been washed so many times it was soft. You are reluctant to leave his room, but make your way to the kitchen starting some breakfast and Jake's morning tea. You were just adding the dollop of honey he likes when he came downstairs, fully dressed and ready to leave you. 

Jake thanked you sweetly, with a kiss pressed to your cheek. In the same breath he tried to steal the whisk out of your hand. You danced out of way holding the whisk out like a sword to ward him off. He had quickly grabbed the masher from the utensil jar and brandished it in response. Amusement filling his features. After a small chase around the kitchen which included a small clash of utensils, Jake got his way. You loved the way Jake's eyes crinkled and how charming his dimples and smile lines were. It was a look you almost always got anytime you let him do things for you. Jake had still let you help though, asking you to toast the sourdough bread, while he whipped the avocado, goat cheese, and honey together. Once it was the constituency he liked, Jake spread it on the toast sprinkling some sea salt on top. He made one for you as well, but you had already started cooking three eggs for him, and didn't really have an appetite. After Jake ate, you spent every minute waiting for Coyote to arrive for pick up wrapped tightly in Jake's arms.  

"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said. 

"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites. 

"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again. 

"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together. 

"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh. The tip of Jake's nose had dragged softly across your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to the center. He lingered there, breathing you in.

"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tried to pull him as close and tight to you as possible again. Jake allowed you to hug him, but he didn't relax into the embrace like he normally would have. He was almost stiff in your hold, but one of his hands traced slowly over your back in a soothing motion. When Coyote's headlights had inevitably shown through the frosted window on the door, Jake carefully detangled himself from your arms. He lingered though practically trembling. 

"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours. 

"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.

"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me." 

"If you be safe," you had compromised, wanting to savor every second ticking by that you would never get back. This last time you would be in the same space sharing the same air, for an undetermined amount of time. With a resolve you knew you didn't possess, Jake mouthed the words goodbye he was so close that his lips brushed yours as he did so. With a shaky inhale, Jake stepped away from you. His first two steps hadn't hurt so much, but the third as he exited the front door took all the air with him, including the bit trapped in your lungs. It was a sense of instant emptiness you had never experienced before. Everything you wanted to do seemed impossible when you couldn't even breathe. So there was no running after him for one more stolen moment, no collapsing against the floor, sobbing until your throat was raw, no more reassuring green eyes you could look to for comfort. 

The hollow feeling that nestled into you was hard to find your balance with. You had thrown the lock on the door and stumbled through the house, ready to retreat back into Jake's bed. Well aware his scent would be gone sooner rather than later, you were determined to imprint as much of it to memory as possible. You are blindsided by pain shooting up your foot as you unexpectedly stubbed your toe. Cursing and looking down you realized there was now a new piece of furniture. Jake had left a hand made juniper chest Jake left sitting in the area between the living room and dining room. On top was a small note card with a watercolor of two very detailed puzzle pieces. 

You stare so hard at the water colored pieces trying to parse their meaning the focus of your visions started to blur. The rapid blink forced tears to lubricate the area. However, when there is one tear there are others quick to follow. Just as a tear had splashed against the edge of the card you recognized the duplicates of the last two pieces you and Jake had double tapped into your last puzzle. On the back of the card stock was the drawn design of the chest, with all of Jake's neat measurements noted. You traced over his neat handwriting, and you were quick to quell your disappointment not finding more. That confusion and disappointment was impossible to ignore when you had gone to see what was inside and it was locked, the latch refusing to open. 

Now, after 6 and ½ months of radio silence, the chest taunted you. His entire deployment, there hadn't been a single word to you. Your only source of information was occasionally hearing from Coyote and Marlee about how Hangman was doing. And there was the memory of him, a large empty house, and a locked chest that was too heavy for you to move. 

You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you – this small abuse of the furniture while pacing before bed was a small soothing habit that helped you work some of your worries out. Once the feeling of missing Jake had settled into a dull, steady pain there was room for anger. You were furious and the only thing you had to take it out on was this beautiful work of craftsmanship. Unshockingly, the chest had been well made – because why would Jake make something that was easy to take your anger out on. He couldn't even give you that small concession. Even though you aren't as angry anymore, kicking the chest has become a part of your nightly routine. 

The chest didn't just bother you because it was locked or a surprise gift you hadn't asked for. It also bothered you because of what it was made from. The juniper wood Jake used didn't match the boards he used for the puzzle table, which was a more common light juniper. The boards for the chest were such a deep red it looked purple. Jake made it from one of the logs that you had helped him strip. Seeing the chest felt like a reopening weeping sore; one bleeding from a formally treasured memory that was nestled close to your heart. 

…

Saturday mornings were always a wild card with Jake.It was the one day of the week you could never be 100% sure what his plans were. There were staples you could expect like his morning run, but after that who knew? Sometimes he would have plans to see his friends, other times he had a project, list of chores, plans with his "little brother", manuals to read or some other all day activity. He liked it to be all day. So Sometimes you liked to just lounge in the living room waiting to see what he was going to do before making any plans of your own. 

 "Hey, I'm going on a drive and run some errands. Anything you want me to pick up?" Jake says to you when he comes down the stairs one Saturday morning. 

"Oh, can I come with?" 

"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you. 

"No, it won't," You protest, standing up and stretching. "I'd rather be with you. As long as you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Yeah, of course, sugar. I never mind when you tag along." Jake says with a wide smile. 

"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"

"I'm going to meet an old friend." 

"Oh my god. Please be less ominous Jake"

"What would you like to hear, sugar?"

"Who exactly are we meeting?"

"We are meeting up with my friend, Jess." 

"And?"  

"And, and, and," Jake says, twirling his hand around the air before dramatically pointing to his watch. "We are already 4 minutes behind our schedule. I'll tell you right now that this is cutting into our farmers market time." 

"Farmer's Market is on the list?" 

"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his ‘duh-voice’ that you actually hate, but also you love because it reminds you how easy this is supposed to be. How it's not supposed to be a second thought. The things you like are included and planned for without you having to ask.

You are scrambling up the stairs to get ready when Jake calls after you. "You don't actually have to rush!! I'll make up time on the road."

"You know I don't support your excessive speeding Jake!" you call back, grabbing what you thought you would need. 

"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad. 

"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items. 

"Do you want car snacks? I packed some, and we can always stop to pick something else up." Jake asks you glancing up from his paper. 

"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck." 

Jake just shrugs and opens the door to the garage for you. "It's not a big deal, I'll add the car wash to my list for tomorrow." 

"I also got your truck slippers so you don't have to wear your boots for the drive," Jake tells you. It's so sweet you want to grab him in a tight hug. You squeeze your hands tight instead, waiting for the urge to pass. Jake helps you up into the passenger side of the truck. Just as he said, the soft fuzzy blanket you like, and the slippers Jake got you are laid out waiting. Jake helps you out of your boots and into the slippers, setting them in the back seat for later. Once you are fully settled and buckled, Jake closes your door. He checks that the garage door is locked before jumping in the truck himself. 

"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors. 

"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains. 

"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it.  

"I literally fly ten times as fast as car speeds. Well, more like 9.9 but still when you round up. It's ten." Jake responds, 

"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes. 

"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues. 

"That's fine, and I am not invalidating that. However, you know just as well as I do, that everyone else doesn't have that same ability."

"You are so sassy!" Jake teases, clearly deciding to let the faux argument go. 

"I'm the sassy one? Sure," you say sarcastically, drawing out the word. However, you also decide to let it go. Instead you enjoy the start to your drive, getting music going and adjusting the temperature controls until they are just right. 

"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"

"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug. 

"Really? Nothing is the justification to wear the work boots you got me?"

"You can't live with a bit of mystery, can you?" Jake asks, but there is affection laid into his words. 

"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."  

"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused.  

"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him. 

"I'll admit it. You got me figured out. What gave it away?" Jake asks jokingly but not as quiet as bright as before. You shoot him a look, but his smile is still firmly in place. 

"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly. 

"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."  

"It's the fact that you refuse to grow facial hair. I'm convinced that it's because you want to save that for a disguise." You say, almost giggling trying to picture Jake with a beard or mustache. You expect Jake to laugh too, but he doesn't. After a slightly too long pause, he forces out a strangled laugh, and you realize that you've misstepped somehow. 

"Talk about it or leave it?" You offer trying to sound natural and keeping the pushiness you felt gnawing on you out of your voice. Jake takes a deep measured breath, exhaling out slowly through his nose. He drums a staccato on the steering wheel before responding. 

"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests. 

"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify. 

"Both, please." 

"Can do." 

"Thank you," Jake breathes quietly. Then he offers his right hand to you across the center console. You only wait a moment before slipping your fingers to slot in with his. He squeezes your hand affectionately and you both seem to take a deep breath to try and ease some of the uncomfortable tension. Jake's thumb tracing softly against your skin.  

"I'll tell you if you really want to know," Jake says a few miles later while his eyes stay trained on the road. You think about whether you really want to press him for details. As much as you want to know, you don't want to ever force Jake into sharing something with you if he isn't completely comfortable with it. 

"Nope, it's fine. Keep your mysteries, Hangman, I'll find out eventually." You finally respond, pulling Jake's hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making sure he understood your innocent intentions. He chuckles good naturedly and his hand flexes at the movement, tightening its grasp on yours when you set them on the middle console again.  

"That's good. I appreciate you." 

"I appreciate you more," you tell him sweetly, though you mean it very genuinely. Jake pulls his eyes from the road to flash a heavy frown of disapproval your way. 

"I don't think that's possible," Jake says with passion.

 You just shrug, letting the conversation drift to the next topic, just enjoying the drive with Jake. It is a while before Jake pulls off onto a private road that leads up to a massive barn, and you still don't really have any clue where you are or why. Jake throws the gear into park, the truck in park and shoots you an almost gleeful smile. 

"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again. 

"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here." 

"Do I have to stay?" You ask him nervously, checking the mirrors on either side of you. You know once Jake leaves the truck and into the barn you won't be able to see him anymore. The idea of being alone here, somewhere you don't know, even in the truck makes you uncomfortable. 

"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says. 

"It's okay," you tell him reassuringly. "That's why you had me bring my boots, right?"

"Yes, but you just look snug as a bug. I didn't want to make you move," Jake replies. 

"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend." 

A moment later Jake is opening your side of the truck and helping you into your boots, tying up the laces for you and ignoring your protests that you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself. Jake helps you out of the truck and holds your hand, helping you walk over the uneven ground carefully. You can smell it before you see it. The fresh woodsy scent permeates the air so heavily that you can nearly taste it. 

Subverting your expectations, Jake does not lead you to the large frame equipment sliding doors of the barn. Instead, he leads you around the nearest side where there is a small typical sized door. Opening the door, Jake reveals a huge workshop. Half of the large barn space is filled with massive logs, planks, boards, and other cuts of wood. The other half is full of various projects, a giant tool bench, and shelving making up an impressive workspace. 

"Oh wow," you breathe taking it all in. You look at Jake and he is positively gleeful, maybe even more excited than a kid in a candy shop. His grin is wide, looking around and leading you a bit further into the workspace. A soft Jingle plays in the air, penetrating the otherwise quiet atmosphere when Jake closes the door behind you. 

"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.

"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully. 

"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing." 

You almost let go of Jake's hand in alarm, but he gives you a squeeze reassuring you. He leads you a little further into the warehouse, and a middle aged woman comes in through one of the open doors. 

Jake lets go of your hand to give her a warm hug. She hugs Jake back lightly before pushing him away with a playful shove.

 "It's good to see you too, Jess," Jake grumbles, dodging out of the way of her playful punch. 

 "Hi, I'm Jess. It's nice to meet you." She says turning to you and offers you a warm smile

You introduce yourself a bit shyly, but feel more confident when Jake's hand slips back into yours. 

"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake. 

"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains. 

"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him. 

Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond. 

"Well, even if he is annoying, you've found yourself a good man," Jess says. You wait for Jake to correct her. When he doesn't you start to do so yourself but Jess has already changed the subject and started walking to the other side of the warehouse with a gesture for you to follow. 

"So, I got them fresh this week. And just like you requested, I'm letting you have the first freshcut pick, even before me." Jess explains to him. 

"I knew you loved me," Jake gasps grinning wide. Jess huffs out a breath at Jake but doesn't deny Jake's accusation which just makes Jake grin wider. Y'all walk to a pile of grey logs stacked close to the large barn doors.

They start a conversation that completely goes over your head, something about soil conditions, chain lengths, altitude, sap, and other details you didn't know impacted wood. You take this opportunity to look around the shop, and appreciate all the different types of wood and tools. You have only slightly lost focus when you suddenly realize Jake has said your name and is looking at you expectantly. He quickly picks up that you missed the question though, so he repeats it gently. 

"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea." 

"Oh, I just pick one?" You ask looking at all the logs. Besides the fact they were different widths they all looked pretty much the same to you. 

"Yes, Ma'am," Jake confirms. He leads you to the ends of the cuts and starts talking about grains, and the potential knots and twists that would be in the wood when you cut into it. Jess leaves y'all to decide, saying she'll go grab her forklift to make getting the selections into Jake's truck easier. Jess declines Jake's offer to drive with a snipe about how he isn't forklift certified. Jake's muttered comeback about how he could be forklift certified if he wanted makes you roar in laughter. 

You eventually pick a trunk that overall doesn't look too special, but Jake said it looked like it would be easier to work with because of how sticky the sap was. Jake makes two other selections and also insists on helping Jess get the wood into his truck. 

Jess invited you to an early lunch where you met her wife Paula. Paula had clearly been prepared to host and spent the whole meal fawning over Jake. While Jess might deny treating him like a son, Paula certainly leans into it, and you can tell Jake doesn't mind from the glowing smile that stays on his face the whole time you're at their home.  

As promised Jake had planned time to stop at the farmers market, and an outlet mall, that included a target, where two do some light shopping. Finally picking up Jake's drycleaning on your way home. It's a fun day, and you were thankful you had decided to tag along.

"So Jake, are these for what I think?" You ask him excitedly when you have finally made it home and he is pulling the logs into the garage. 

"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper." 

You stare at the grey logs of wood with their mossy, splintering bark that has already made a mess in the garage. Examining the wood you try to compare it with the Juniper you have seen in the past.

"I didn't think it was that color," you tell Jake scrunching your eyebrows together in contemplation. 

"Well, the wood isn't actually grey, just the bark," Jake explains. You watch as he pulls two pairs of work gloves from the workbench. He jerks the larger pair on, you realize with adoration that he had gotten a pair in your size. Jake doesn't hand the gloves to you, rather just leaves them out as an offering if you are interested in participating. The casual no pressure offering makes your chest warm and stomach flutter. Biting your lip you try to contain the grin threatening to split your face before joining him at the workbench and sliding the gloves on. 

Grabbing two chisels, he throws one on his belt. Then he picks up alo with two hammers, hanging both those on his toolbelt as well. You start to get distracted by the way Jake's tool belt sits on his slim hips. 

"Yes. Jess managed to expedite it for us in a special order. I'm so excited. You see, in the spring the sap warms up and it runs through the tree so it allows us to do this –" Jake explains to you. He angles the chisel into the bark, working it in. With a controlled hit from the hammer the flat head sinks in a little bit deeper. Wiggling the chisel makes the bark displace, allowing Jake to grab it and pull it downwards. A long section of the bark comes off before splintering and breaking off the log. The action reveals the light colored, bright, 'green' (fresh) wood underneath. 

"I can tell you've never experienced stripping before," Jake says cheekily while wiggling his eyebrows at you. You feel a bit amazed at the beautiful gem that's been revealed to you. 

"What?" you gasp.  

"Stripping is what this process is called," Jake answers while letting out a full bellied laugh, going so far as slapping his own leg. You roll your eyes at him but can't help your smile and excitement on joining in. 

"Some people strip wood with a power washer, but I think that's lazy. On top of the laziness, it prematurely ages and strips the wood of its natural oils, color, and saps! If we take our time though, we can get a longer lasting, vibrant cut. It's a lot of work, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run." 

Jake takes his chisel and edges it under the bark again. When he pulls the long grey strip of bark gives way with a crunch that sizzles against your ears. Jake continues to slowly peel more away to reveal the fresh color underneath, not pressuring you to join the process at any point. 

However when you do ask to help Jake is patient going over the process with you, explaining the best angle to keep the chisel. He provides steady guidance, only leaving you alone in the process when you tell him that you have a handle on what you're doing. 

You help Hangman strip one of the logs and just as he had said, it is a slow process. It is however extremely satisfying and lots of fun. He puts on a podcast after consulting you to find one you would both enjoy. At one point you accidentally dig your chisel too far under the bark and feel it sink slightly into the 'green' sap softened wood. Your heart drops, and when you peel it back you see that it has pulled a chunk of wood, leaving a gouge in the trunk. You freeze, noticing the damage of the mistake, pulling your eyes to where Jake is working. Just as you start to wonder if there could be a way to fix or hide your mistake, Jake looks over at you with a wide smile that crinkles around his eyes.

"Oh wow," he gasps, the smile falling. Anxiety claws at your throat, and you instinctively prepare yourself for something bad to happen, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. Jake's hand gently pushes yours out of the way and dips over the gouge pushing away some of the sap that was springing from the area. Jake clicks his tongue before saying. "Look at this, sugar" 

"I know and–" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you. 

"I've seen this color juniper, at least not in person" Jake tells you breathily. You are momentarily surprised that his words do not contain any anger, veiled insults, or condescending tones. Then you remember that this is Jake, so of course you're not going to 'be in trouble'. It takes your eyes a moment to drop down to the thick trunk again. Where you had damaged the wood, it revealed a bright purple streak under the top grain. 

"It's purple," you say, eyes widening. 

"It does look purple does it?" Jake asks excitedly. "That means at the very least that vein will look like that through the trunk. If not all the pigmentation in the grain." 

"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask. 

"Sometimes red but not purple. This one was a real treasure find, sugarpie" Jake answers. His grin was so wide you were a little worried about his face. However, before you know it, he is sweeping you in his arms and rocking you playfully while saying, "We are going to have to do something really special with this one."  

"Puzzle table," You say as if that was the most obvious answer. That was the whole reason he had gotten all these logs of juniper, after all. 

"Yeah, maybe for the puzzle table," Jake says noncommittally, though as he hums you can tell that won't be the case. He kisses your forehead and mutters a thank you.

Jake gives you another thank you, a little while later, once you two have started to work again. "We wouldn't have known about the color until I went to cut planks and then there would have been a lot less I could do to preserve the color." 

"I made a mistake, Jake."

"Not all mistakes are bad," he says kindly. "Sometimes they are just something that's meant to happen. They have to happen for us to learn something." 

"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back. 

"I make mistakes, but unfortunately, like everything I do, it's to the max. Either the best or the worst," he trails off with a shrug. 

"Because you refuse to be middling?" You ask him teasingly. You aren't surprised when his sharp elbow playfully taps into your arm, and if you bruise later-- it will be worth it.  

"We never should have read and watched Little Women," Jake grumbles. However, his open and light body language make it very clear to you he is being playful. You traced the shape of his dimples with your eyes enjoying the ease they brought to you. They seemed like the perfect place to rest your thumbs on his cheeks. It's nice how Jake comes with a built in guidance system. From his dimples, to the smile lines that will age nicely into kind crows feet all pointing to the freckle-mole by his right eye. You had already mapped out every place you wanted to kiss, given the opportunity. 

"You loved them both," you remind Jake. 

"Of course I did. It is a heart warming, stunning story. But you don't always have to make fun of how I teared up a little bit." Jake tells you, adopting a frown. Teared up was a bit of a down play on what had happened but you didn't call Jake out on that part. It wasn't a bad thing for men to get emotional and cry. 

"I only tease because you were upset about it for the entire next day. Which honestly was so sweet."

"It's not sweet, Sugar." Jake groans. 

"Jake, let's not do this dance," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him and turning back to your work on the trunk. You are much more careful now in how you place the chisel under the bark. In the middle of stripping off the next piece the podcast shuts off and some slow country music replaces it. 

"Now, Sugar," Jake says in an extra thick southern accent that makes you narrow your eyes. He eases in close to you and pulls the chisel out of your hand sliding it in his tool belt. Unbuckling it Jake sets it on the bench. Coming back to your side he takes your hand, delicately. Jake pulls your work gloves from each finger. Intentional and steady, the pads of his fingers brush against your revealed skin. He tosses the gloves to the side as well, and with your now free hands pulls you closer to him, towards the open space in the middle of the garage. 

"What dance exactly don't you want to do?" Jake asks you, starting to sway to the music and encouraging you to join him in the simple steps. Once you do he gleefully spins you in time with the music and draws you back even closer to his chest after. 

Blowing out a sigh you melt into his embrace. Dancing with Jake was different than any other man; he was confident and incharge, firm enough with his hold that there wasn't any space for you to really fall out of step with him, but he left enough room so you didn't feel like he was forcefully dragging you through the steps. He was good about taking the worry of thinking about the steps away from you, allowing you to just enjoy the movement and how his broad body felt pressed so close. 

"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise." 

"Ouch," Jake says. You lean back further resisting the hold he has in moving you. Jake doesn't allow the movement though, continuing to step dance to the music guiding you with him. 

"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad. 

"No, no. I might have deserved that one," Jake answers, as the song wraps up, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't let go of you though, just adjusts his steps, leads his steps into the next one. 

"Let's find a different dance you do like," he says after a bit, shuffling you in his arms. "For example, we know you love the Texas two step."

"Do I?" You ask him with a laugh. 

"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?" 

Jake turns you around the open space in the garage, going through dances he knows until you are both laughing. When he suggests cooking dinner and watching Dancing with the Stars for some new ideas you readily and happily agree, especially when he reminds you the logs will still be there tomorrow, and there is no real need to rush since you have at least a week until the sap is too dry to easily strip anymore.

…

"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion." 

"Well, she might if I'm pregnant," Marlee responds in a small voice that doesn't match her typical outgoing demeanor. You almost drop your phone but manage to keep your grip tight. 

"Marlene Machado… First of all, that would be illegal, and we would file a report with HR. And secondly, is there something you are wanting to tell me?"

"No!" Marlee says, "I don't know what you're talking about, me pregnant?! That's crazy talk. Maybe you're the one who's pregnant." 

"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone. 

"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet." 

"That's okay, Marls. It's only been a few months of this new medicine."

"Yeah, well um I guess that leads to my next problem."

"What's that?"

"What are your plans for Saturday?"

"I don't have any plans." You say running through your mental calendar to check. 

"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking." 

"So Javy is involved?" You clarify. 

"What? Of course, he is!" Marlee says sounding affronted at even the concept of not including her husband, which makes you almost smile for real. 

"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh. 

"We'll pick you up. Then we'll carpool to the airport. Don't worry I already made signs. Then we want to take y'all to Olive Garden."

You distantly hear Javy yelling, "When we are there, we are family."

Marlee takes a moment to giggle, "I'll make sure you and Jake drink a bottle of wine. Preferably one each. Trust me, nothing helps with the ‘we haven't seen each other in six months’ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!" 

You aren't successful in catching your phone this time and it slams to the ground. You're frozen staring down at it, only managing to shake yourself and pick it up when you hear Marlee saying your name in concern. 

"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?" 

"Oh no, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," you answer the pit in your stomach growing till it feels like it might swallow you whole. 

"You don't need help with anything for tomorrow do you?" Marlee asks worriedly. You take a glance around the house. You had worked hard keeping things orderly and together while Jake had been gone. You knew how worried he was that things would change while he was away. It hadn't been easy and there were a few weeks there when you hadn't been able to keep yourself afloat very well. 

"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard. 

"Any cleaning or organizing or any of that. Groceries so you and Jake don't have to go shop. Javy hates going to the store when he comes home. I guess there is something especially frustrating about them," Marlee trails off. You can tell that she is picking up on your off mood, and of course she was. She probably expected you to be ecstatic that Jake was coming home, and maybe you would have been if you had known about it. 

You realize there isn't a way out of this so you have to concede a truth to her. You bite your lip and let your eyes frantically comb over the house again before finally whispering. "He hasn't said anything to me… about coming home." 

When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?" 

"Not a word," you respond solemnly. 

"I'm sorry for ruining the surprise."

"I'm glad you did. I'll definitely want to clean and shop like you mentioned. And as nice as your plan sounded, maybe not this time. You two are the sweetest ever."

"I still feel bad. Are you sure you don't need help with anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Marlee!" You were not fine.

"Wait, babes, I'm worried."

"Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, yeah? I love you!" You hang up the phone and stare at it blankly. Trying to process the new information you had just gotten. Looking around the house you realized you weren't even close to ready for Jake to come home.  

You spend all of your free time panicking, cleaning and organizing the house, trying to make sure everything was just perfect for when Jake comes home. You almost had a breakdown when you couldn't remember if the quilt on his bed had been green or dark blue when he left.. The smallest details were haunting you. You had spent nearly an hour working up the courage to erase the chalkboard in the kitchen. Worried that you would forget some of the more important reminders, you erase everything but what you deemed Jake needed to know, like things that had come up concerning the house. It leaves a choppy, oddly spaced list, but you don't think you will have the energy to rewrite it without crying. 

You were asleep when Jake came home. Waking up to sounds that are familiar and yet gone enough that they don't sound right, confuses your tired mind before you are startled into wakefulness, fully placing that for the first time in 6 months someone else is cooking in your kitchen. Your alarm is slightly eased when you check your phone and see a text from Marlee. 

We're here with a gift, come down stairs as soon as you wake up <3

 While you were put at ease knowing some manic axe murderer isn't in your house, you almost feel like you would prefer that to what you now know is waiting for you downstairs. You sit in your room for nearly an hour trying to work out what to do, if you should confront Jake and how to approach it, hoping inspiration or bravery will strike you into moving. It never does though, and instead there is a heavy handed knock on your bedroom door. 

Taking a big gulp, not having the strength to find your voice, you slowly creak the door open. You lift your eyes up and unexpectedly find Javy on the other side of the door. 

"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Javy says cheerfully. It takes you a few deep breaths to answer from your surprise. You don't know what the look on your face is, but the next thing you know, Javy is sweeping you up into a tight hug. You are frozen though, still strung out on what this must mean, that Jake is home. 

"Is he?" You start to ask, but not sure how you actually want to finish the sentence: home, safe, okay, the same. Javy doesn't respond, he just squeezes you harder. You try asking your question again to get an answer. "Is Jake?" 

"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms. 

"I thought it was going to be this evening."

"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute." 

"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either. 

"He will be okay," Javy says lightly.  

"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt. 

"It'll all take us some time to readjust and recalibrate. Just don't push him, and more importantly yourself too hard. Okay?" Javy says pulling away from the hug after another squeeze. You nod numbly, not entirely sure you know what he means but it is comforting to know your friend is here. 

When you don't make a move to follow Javy towards the door when he starts to retreat he levels you with a concerned look. 

"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door. 

You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jake– how can you love someone who willfully hasn't talked to you in 6 months? The words don't come out though, because in spite of it all, you do love him. You love him so much it hurts, and you made that choice even as Jake actively warned you against it. Javy waits patiently for you to respond, which just makes you feel like squirming more. 

"I do not see what that has to do with anything," you try to deflect but Coyote frowns at you and shakes his head.

"It's because he makes you feel better than a million bucks right?" Javy presses on with the question.

"Yeah, sometimes." You concede thinking of how it was before Jake left. 

"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?" 

"Don't know if I love Jake because of that. I think those are just side benefits. I love Jake just by virtue of him being Jake." You say trying to explain how you feel and Javy nods along to your words. 

"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this. 

"It's going to be okay. Marlee and I are here to play interference as long as you two need it. Remembering those things you love about him will help get through the rough patch. He is really worried about doing something wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?" 

"I would say he is worried about hurting you." And you had to resist the urge to laugh, because it was already much too late for that. Jake had been hurting you for months now.

"Has something gone wrong before, or is he just scared?"

Javy doesn't answer your question and he avoids your gaze and stares hard at a far wall. "Hangman and I aren't always stationed together." 

"Oh, I see."

"You're going to have to give him some grace and time; he will even out, I promise. If it gets too bad you can always call me, okay?" Javy's eyes meet yours again, and he gives you a sad smile. "I love Jake too, you know."

"Yeah, I know you do." You reassure him. "Thanks Coyote, you are a good friend to him, and me too." 

Javy is then urging you to finally leave your room, opening the door and gesturing for you to step out. He is asking you to be brave, and it's a lot easier to face your fears when you know someone else is there to help, just in case. 

"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open.  

"I am once again begging Javy to run away with me." You yell back to her playfully. Giving Javy one last tight hug and a muttered thank you, he strides confidently down the stairs. Anxiety and nerves eat away at your every step leaving a sour taste on your tongue. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, as you descend the stairs, still not ready to actually see Jake. 

Instead you keep your eyes trailed on Javy where he has automatically drifted to his wife's side and is already wrapping himself around her and kissing her cheek. 

"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke. 

"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh. 

"I wasn't worried," she tells him. "I know there's only one person you would leave me for."

"I would never leave you," Javy responds, dropping the playfulness from his voice. However, Marlee persists. 

"That's not true, we both know if Jake asked, you wouldn't even hesitate." The couple both turn their eyes towards the kitchen, which you realize is where Jake must be. You are frozen on the last step of the stairs, unable to take your eyes off Marlee and Javy, even as they expectantly look back and forth between where you are standing and where he is. 

You decide you aren't brave enough, that you can't actually do this. You need to retreat up the stairs into your room and pack all of your things in order to get out of here as soon as possible. Jake was back now, all the responsibility you had to watch and take care of the house was released from your shoulders. Never facing him again seems like the obvious solution, you don't know why you had never considered it before. 

"I wouldn't ever ask Javy to run away with me, he snores too much," Jake says. His voice tricks your eyes into looking towards the kitchen. Thinking about Jake Seresin and seeing him are two distinctly different things. He is handsome, Jake always has been handsome, but after so long of not seeing him, it's glaring, breathtaking. 

You think you had expected him to change, which doesn't really make sense. Half a year, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't very long. You think maybe his uniform fits him a bit more snugly, that he looks even more fit than before. You weren't prepared… you weren't prepared at all. And now you are stuck because he is looking back at you. Jake blinks at you, and you stare wide eyed, too afraid if your eyes close for even a second he will be gone. 

"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says. 

"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you." 

Jake flashes you one of his perfect practiced smiles and a wink. Then he gestures to the bowls and pans in front of him, "I'm making french toast." 

You wait a second, having to choke back a sob threatening to bubble in your chest. Then say, "I'm sure that will be good." 

Javy and Marlee's analyzing the two of you makes the awkwardness press in harder. Gulping, you try to seem casual about walking towards the kitchen. Jake watches you intently. At the last minute you change your mind and veer down the hallway towards the front door instead. 

"Sorry, I just have some errands I need to run," You announce loudly, quickening your step. Fumbling with the locks you burst out the front door, and stand heaving on the front porch. Gripping the railing hard, you lean against it trying to brace yourself. 

A minute later you hear the door open, and you close your eyes tight, wishing you had been smart enough to walk further away. There is a slight clunk against the ground and you see a pair of your shoes next to your feet. 

"Thought you might need shoes," Jake says quietly. Fuck, this hurt so much more than you though it would. You thought having him home would feel like a relief, not a fresh stab wound. You just shake your head, not sure you can say anything. Jake waits patiently but after several long minutes, he breathes out a quiet sigh. 

"Okay. Well. I think I should just apologize and get on with it. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." You can't stop the hitching sob that falls from your throat. 

"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me." 

"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests. 

"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better. 

"Well I do. I want us to have a fight, because you should be mad at me. You should be yelling at me and cursing the ground I walk on. You should've burned down this house!" He exclaims, and you can hear his frustration. You open your eyes to find Jake standing stiff and straight next to the slightly ajar front door. Hands clenched tight, Jake was staring at like you were water and he had been stranded in the desert for days, parched. A direct sighting of his green eyes is all it takes to break your resolve.  

"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. 

"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.

"You know exactly why."  

Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you. 

"You don't have to be this saint you know. You don't have to be this perfectly stable person for me because you feel like that's what I need. Please don't let me get away with hurting you." 

"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly. 

"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of confirming that you are the bad guy you've convinced yourself you are. So, what would you like me to say instead?"   

"I guess I want you to listen to the fact that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I left, I'm sorry for how I behaved, I—"

"Are you really sorry for what happened between us?" You ask in a small voice. You lower your eyes to look at the ground, not wanting to be too confrontational. 

"Of course I am," he sighs. It's a stab to your heart. You had treasured the long heartbreakingly beautiful evening you had with Jake before he left, and hearing him say he doesn't feel the same is harrowing. 

"Are you—" you start to ask but stop yourself. You ball up all the hurt in your chest trying to rationalize and compartmentalize. Realizing this is another one of those times you had to fill in the gaps. It was time you refocused on the realities at hand. There were no promises besides the one you had made. That you would love him regardless, and continuously. Reminding yourself this fact helps, you could be upset after, later. Every moment actually with Jake should be treasured, this was the first moment you were getting with him in how long and of course you had ruined it. 

"I'm sorry for every other thing I know I should be, and everything I willfully chose not to know too. I'm sorry, and well I want to go on forever. I want to keep telling you I'm sorry every second. So, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times more. Like you deserve."

"Jake, stop. Sometimes the more times you say something the cheaper the words have become. So let's keep this one valuable. I'm sorry for pushing, and you've said sorry too. We can move on now." 

"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin. 

"Yes, Jake, be plain. That's the best option for us."

"If we step over lines?"

"We say something, stop and talk about it."

"Okay." He agrees, "We have to talk about the other thing now too."

"What thing?" you ask.

"My question, what happened between us." He says as if he hadn't just told you part of him regrets it. 

"You asked to be selfish with me Jake, and I said yes. I don't regret that, and I'm not mad about what happened. You had my permission and consent for all of it.' 

"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains. 

"Jake, I really…" You sigh and scrub your hand over your face. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

 Jake nods silently in response. "Okay, Later, then."

"Sure, like when the Machados aren't listening on the other side of the door." You say loudly looking at the front door that was cracked, having no doubt your friends were being nosey. Not that you really blame them, you probably would have done the same thing. 

"Do you still have errands to run?" he asks you. You look out to the street deciding you should at least take a small walk to sort through your thoughts. 

"I'm just going to go on a little walk. I'm sure I'll be back by the time breakfast is done," you explain. 

"Sounds good, sugar. Can I help you with your shoes?" He asks quietly. The only reason you nod your head yes is because you think you might start crying otherwise. 

Jake kneels down and hesitates for a long moment before his large warm hand is on your ankle, helping angle your foot into the shoe. His thumb makes a brushing stroke across the skin before doing the same thing with the other foot. 

When you get back from your walk, it's awkward. You completely avoid Marlee's attempts to get you to go off and talk with her. Instead, you decide that the best course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong. You laugh at jokes and ignore how stilted and awkward Jake's conversation is with everyone. 

Then, after Marlee and Javy linger way too long, before you and Jake finally get them to leave. Once they are out the door and Jake has locked the door behind them, you both let out a sigh of relief. You meet Jake's gaze, both of you offer small smiles. It's the most normal moment you've had all day. 

"Welcome back, Jake." You offer tentatively. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I kinda just want to nap," he admits. You part ways at the top of the stairs giving him a strained smile and retreat into your room; Jake's eyes don't leave you until the door is shut firmly in place. 

It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response. 

You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked. 

"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door. 

"I'm fine. Thanks," he yells back. You wait but when you don't get anything more, you have no choice but to leave him be and go back to your room. You don't actually even see Jake again until two nights later. You have been able to tell that he is home but Jake is as elusive as a ghost. 

You run into him next when you open your door one night to get some water before bed. Jake is standing on the other side, holding two water bottles. Part of you has a hunch that he had been standing there for a while. He looks shocked but a little relieved when he sees you. 

"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet. 

"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?" 

Jake nods his head along with your words, his eyebrows drawing together. Then he holds out a water bottle for you to take. "Can I just be here? Here, with you?"

"Of course, always." You say stepping backwards into your room leaving the door wide open for him. You shuffle to your bed and lift open the blankets ready to welcome him there with you. However, Jake drops the pillow he was holding on the floor nearby and lays down instead. 

You want to ask him questions about it but the edge he is on isn't one you want to poke or prod in any direction. While you are still hurt, knowing he is here is safe again, with you is equally as soothing, a small dosage of pain medication. 

"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case. 

"It's too soft for me right now."

"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly. 

"I can't sleep. It's the worst part. Everything is too quiet and too still and at the same time not quiet or still enough. I think I might go insane." He explains in a low voice. 

"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically. 

"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully. 

"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration. 

"Someday, at some point, we are going to have to talk about it," Jake says so carefully you know he is consciously holding back the taunting frustration he wants to put into the words. 

"No, we really don't," You contradict him. 

"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked. 

You think you should give into him again. You should allow Jake to talk his heart out and seek penance from you. How this should be a time when you are strong for him. However, as much as you want to give Jake the world, there must be times that you curl around your own heart to try and shield it from hurt. 

"Listen, Jake. I don't need to know why you didn't talk to me while you were gone. No matter what your explanation is, it's going to hurt my feelings. So, I would rather not know. Please, let me pretend something a little kinder." 

He is silent, so very quiet for so long you almost wonder if he has left. Evaporated from existence, that he never came home at all, and you've been living an elaborate hallucination. You turn on your side just to check in the soft lamp light that Jake is still laying on the floor. 

"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think." 

Jake's words feel like a punch in the gut, rattling around like a wrecking ball, leaving a bloody massacre behind. With a heavy blown out breath you say, "No it wouldn't have."

"No, it wouldn't have," he sighs in agreement. 

"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before." 

"Before?" He asks. 

"Yes," you say, clutching your blankets tight. "If I could pretend that you never got orders and didn't leave. I would jump to that in an instant. 

"You want to pretend nothing happened?" 

"Isn't that an idea?" You huff a small broken laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"What if I don't remember exactly how things went before?" Jake wonders. 

"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously.  

There are several long minutes of silence where you wait for him to say something. Finally, you hear Jake let out a long heavy audible groan while shifting. "If you don't want to talk it out. Pretending is probably our best option then. Otherwise, what are we going to do, sweets?" 

"Sugar," You correct automatically. 

"Hmm?" 

"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets" 

"Ah, that's right, and darling. I got it mixed up because you're so sweet to me."

"I'll help you. If you don't remember how it goes." 

"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either. 

"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually. 

"It's fine enough, I guess." You answer as lightly as you can. Then you go through another bout of silence. You nervously play with the edge of a blanket hoping that this tension with Jake will ease. It's always gone away in the past, but that was also before. 

"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again. 

"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm. 

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Jakers?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks. You laugh lightly, feeling a bit of the nervousness ease at his tone which has become much lighter. 

"I never understand why people say that. Aren't you already asking a question?" Jake chuckles low in his chest in amusement. He doesn't follow along with the joke though, just leaves it there hanging in the air. 

"The answer is yes," you tell him casually. 

"You don't know what the question is." 

"Yes, you can ask me a question," you clarify in a whisper. Jake makes some rustling sounds and you hear him come closer to you.

"Are you sure that bed is big enough for two?" He asks. 

"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease. 

With a nod Jake crawls onto bed and turns to face you on his side. However, he doesn't scoot in close like you expect. He is stone still on the other side of the bed, laying on top of the covers, only shifting his pillow once. 

"What would you do, if I told you the last time I said yes, it had an extended warranty?" You ask while turning on your side to face where you are in the bed now. 

"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks. 

"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely. 

"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?" 

"I think it's because we are selfish. Maybe it's a little bit because I don't want the memory of the last time I tasted you to be bitter." 

Jake rolls away from you onto his back, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Stop letting me take things from you."

"We both deserve a night where we are selfish with each other, I think." You tell him reaching across the gap between you. You set a hand on Jake's cheek ignoring the prickly stubble there. 

"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch. 

"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you. 

"It was supposed to be just a kiss last time too." Jake's eyes are bright where they burn into yours. He inches a little closer and you lean forwards as well, reducing the gap between you two that much more until there is just a miniscule space now.  

"I know," You answer against his lips, letting your hand slip into his hair. Jake's lips move with yours crowding in close, like he is trying to breathe all of you into himself and commit you to memory. 

"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps. 

"A promise?" You question. 

"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.

"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn. 

"That's true, but I'm willing to try anyway." He kisses you again and dips his tongue into your mouth. Jake swallows your little whimpers; he tastes just as good as he always has. It's very easy to be selfish with Jake "Hangman" Seresin.  

…

It's a slow road to trying to get back to normal. Jake circles around the house like he is lost. Picking things up and setting them down, starting conversations with you and leaving halfway through them. Shadows stretch across his face and his increasingly dark stubble and facial hair. You are a little surprised to find that he doesn't have a red beard like most blonds do. The facial hair only serves to make him look increasingly gaunt.

Jake even denies your offer to start a puzzle together, telling you that wasn't something he could handle at the moment. You try not to seem like you were watching him like a hawk, but you definitely are. Until one day he stood up from the table in the middle of dinner and announced that he was going camping. 

"Oh okay. Do you know how long?" 

"Yeah," Jake sighs, "I'll be home before next weekend, and I promise you when I get home I'll be normal again."

"You don't have to be any which way for me Jake," you tell him gently. 

"I know, but I need to do this for me too, sugar." He explains while putting away dishes. You watch him complete the task; Jake is antsy even with his hands occupied. None of the projects or tasks he has picked up since being home have been enough to occupy him with real distraction. Two days ago, you had walked into the garage where Jake had rigged up his camping hammock to the ceiling which you felt like he was swaying precariously 8 feet off the ground. On top of that Jake had music blasting, a documentary on Yosemite playing, while also whittling a piece of wood. 

"Okay. I'll miss you." You eventually say. Jake purses his lip, and after a heavy gulp he nods his head. Once the last of the dishes is away he spins on his heel and heads towards the garage door. 

You hurry after him, "Jake?"

"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory. 

"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised. 

"Yes, I packed earlier today."

"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly. 

Jake freezes. He rubs his hands across his face pressing briefly into his eyes while sighing a very soft "Fuck." Then he turns to you fully looking abashed. "Yeah, sugar. What do you need before I go? I'm sorry I should have asked that first."

"No, it's no big deal. Honestly." You tell him backing off not wanting to be too much. Jake shushes you softly while stepping closer. 

"Tell me how it goes. I need to remind myself about this part."

"Well," you start off hesitantly, "normally I would get a hug goodbye." 

"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms. Draping his arms high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.

 "How's the next part going again, honey?"

"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest. 

"Now?" He whispers. 

"You would probably kiss my forehead."

"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily. 

"I'll leave that one up to you, Jake." He unwraps a hand from your waist to hold the back of your neck, keeping you steady. 

"And if I want to kiss somewhere else?"

"You've got my permission Jake," you tell him trying to keep want and desire out of your voice. Jake parts his lips and leans in closer brushing his lips to grace over your cheekbone. 

"You can have it, Jake," you remind him.

"No," he answers and closes his eyes. "Not again, not yet. I'll be home in a few days."

Once Jake leaves you know there is something you have to do to help him. It's an idea that gets stuck in your head and then you can't get it out. He had been spending time daily in his hammock in the garage, and you noted that Jake had taken it with him when he left. You missed how he used to casually be in the living room, so you started brainstorming some ideas on how you might entice Jake to join you again. 

So, you go to the kitchen and pull out the rolodex, find the card dedicated to Miss Celeste and give it a call. Russell answers the phone, and you can hear the man smiling through the phone as you ask after his wife. It turns out Jake's grandmother is just as blunt but kind hearted as you had been led to believe. After a longer conversation with her, she and Russ offer you some advice and tips

You aren't wholly sure how you managed to get it all done. Eventually having to call Coyote to help you move some of the living room furniture. However, after significantly less sleep than you already get, there is a large comfy hammock in the living room. You and Javy had to sandwich Jake's large comfy chair much closer to the couch than it was previously, but y'all managed to make it all fit. 

Jake comes home from camping quietly late one night. The stubble he had been supporting before is a full-on beard now, and his hair is longer than you have ever seen it. This look is intimidating to you in lots of ways, like some mirrored version of Jake that you don't know. He offers. quick hello when he comes in from the garage, breezing past you and towards the stairs.  

Jake doesn't make it to the stairs though instead he stands frozen at the edge of the living room for five whole minutes just staring at the hammock. You watch him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. 

"It's a surprise for you." You say after the amount of time he is standing there increases to a concerning duration. Compelled to do something you explain, "I know your hammock has been one of the only places you have been able to relax."  

"This is very sweet. I appreciate it." Jake starts evenly. It's contradictory as you see him grit his teeth, and his fists clench and unclench at his sides. 

"You don't like it?" You ask him.

"It's not that," Jake tries to explain. "It's just you can't randomly switch the living room around and add new furniture like this." 

Your mouth drops open in shock. This might be one of the first times Jake has ever told you there is something you can't do in the house. It's jarring, he has always spent so much time tailoring everything to your likes, desires, and aesthetics. You hardly even think about the house as Jake's and Jake's alone anymore. Frustration bubbles under the shock twisting into anger at the situation. You were trying your best, doing all the things you thought you should, and it still didn't seem like enough. 

"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes. 

"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room. 

"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis. 

"Well, what did you expect? I left for a few days and now there is a hammock in the living room. That's an outdoor item you brought indoors," Jake responds snappily. It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions. 

"You act like you haven't done the same thing," you tell him, gesturing frustratedly at the juniper chest. "I was doing something nice for you. However, if you don't like it, I'm sure you're more than capable of taking it down and moving your furniture back and fixing your living room."  

You leave Jake in the living room and go to the kitchen. He grumbles to himself upset which makes you feel even more on edge. However, you refuse to let Jake blowing back into the house prevent you from finishing the dishes you had been stacking and putting away. 

"It's our living room," he finally calls back to you.

"You aren't acting like it."

"You could have given me some warning," he reasons, but it has a slightly accusatory tone. 

"When Jake?" You ask him, upset. "When you called me and told me you were coming home? When you text? How exactly was I supposed to let you know?"

He doesn't have an answer and you slam the door of a cupboard harder than you intend. Inside, the stack of bowls were more precariously placed than you thought. The cupboard closes and bounces back open, the bowls ejecting and crashing hard against the ground. Several of them shatter when they make impact, sending ceramic shards flying across the area. 

You aren't expecting the sound to trigger you. It most likely does because of how high strung and worried you already are. The house is such a safe comforting space you don't really have a game plan for when PTSD attacks hit you here. A chill makes its way up your spine, while the sound of shattering glass rings echoing in your ears, for much longer than it echoes in the room. It's all it takes for some flip to switch in your head. 

Managing to take small gasping breaths, you try to assess the damage of the sharp ceramic pieces around you, categorizing how many bowls had broken. It doesn't help you to fight off sudden panic that is creeping in when you notice one of the destroyed bowls was one Miss Celeste had made for Jake. It was a soup bowl stamped with a silly song Jake liked to sing anytime he used it. Distantly hear Jake calling your name but can't fully process it. He is stepping towards you, fear rings through your body, and instinctually you go to step back away from him. Flinching hard every one of your muscles feels like it's attached to a live wire. Your fight or flight mode activated but you are still mostly frozen in the middle with short panting breaths, your eyes flit across the area and the room trying to find a suitable escape path. 

"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up and showing you his open body language. Your breaths continue to come out gasping, but eventually you are able clear the cloudiness up enough with the help of Jake's soothing.  

"Jake, help," you whimper. Training your eyes on Jake you think that he is the only available escape, from the glass around you and this attack. At your words, his whole face shifts overcome with a serious ‘get things done’ demeanor.

"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?" 

Jake is shoving his feet into some boots, then crunching through the broken ceramics and glass before picking you up. He carries you to the living room, setting you down on top of the closed puzzle table. Once you are there, he kneels in front of you. Picking up each of your feet, Jake carefully examines them for injury. Then gives the rest of your body a scan; he is clearly relieved to find that there weren't any cuts. 

"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess. 

"I can clean that," you try to tell him in a weak attempt for Jake to stop.

"You just stay there looking pretty and take some breaths, sweets." He responds from the kitchen. You decide to give in, which is probably for the best with the way the numb panic is still very present at the edge of your consciousness. Your heart is still beating erratically as well. 

Jake is expedient and thorough about cleaning, going through the whole kitchen and dining room with his shop vacuum searching for any hiding slivers. When finished he makes his way to the living room and crouches by your side again sighing heavily. 

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I would have waited and asked you."

"You don't need to ask. I've just been on edge and wasn't expecting it. I do appreciate the thought. And you know I do love hammocks so, I'm sure I'll love it."

"We don't have to keep it," You remind him.

"We are taking it for a trial run," Jake responds. Then a few moments later he lets out a heavy sigh and says, "You know we are doing it all already, right?" 

"What's that?"

"It" Jake says gesturing with his free hand in the air. "We fit together. We're," Jake takes the slightest pause, his hand grips yours so tight you almost ache, then he drops it completely. "A bridle joint or maybe, a box joint." 

"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying. 

"No, we aren't. I think it might just be this, Sugar. It's just us." Jake says the words like a confession, an admission, an honest reality. 

You try to analyze the look in his eyes, but over anything else all you can focus on is how tired he is. You pick Jake's hand up again. Standing from the couch, pulling him with you. Jake asks no questions; he just follows you as you guide him. You tug him with you to each of the doors as you make sure each one is locked, jiggling them to be sure. Then he follows you to the kitchen as you grab two of his glass water bottles. You hand one to him and take his, gripping it tightly while his other hand remains loose in yours. 

You keep leading him then as he follows you up the stairs. Finally, You open the door to his room, and freeze in the doorway. A gasp catches in your throat. It's empty. The whole room. Not a mattress or a bedframe, no side tables or a dresser. It's all gone. There is one chest, a basket with some blankets, and one pillow. Jake stands close behind you, and you hear him audibly sigh into your ear. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and pull Jake through the room, leaving no room to address the issue and heading straight to the bathroom. You turn on the water for the bath and let the tub start filling. Turning to Jake and finally, let go of his hand. He looks lost at you, and you bring your hand up to lift his chin up a little higher. Jake takes your direction and those gorgeous sea-glass green eyes look at you. 

You tug at his shirt twice before he follows the movement and pulls it off. You step out of your own pants but otherwise stay clothed. Jake follows you sliding off his jeans. You go to Jake's bath chest still in place and grab a scent you think will be soothing, adding it to the bath. 

You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head small. When you start to pull off your shirt, Jake's hands stop you there too. He gives you a pleading look, and you shrug back, leaving your shirt in place. You motion for Jake to get in the bath, and he wordlessly does as you say. Making room for you between his knees, Jake scoots until he hits the back of the tub. You step into the warm water and slide down to settle in.  

Jake's head falls forward so his forehead presses into the space where your shoulder and neck meet, taking deep breaths. You shudder, feeling the air of his breath against your neck. Jake's large hands are gripping the side of the bathtub hard. You are shocked that the feeling of the wet clothes sticking to your skin hasn't rocketed you out of the bathtub. But like it often is, it's hard to focus on anything that's not Jake when he is this close to you. 

After a while, when Jake lifts his head and leans back, you do as well, leaning into his chest, his arms slide around you, pulling you even closer, as you draw imaginary designs on one of his forearms. 

"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him. 

"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly. 

"Before me?" And that actually makes you want to cry because it sounds so true. Things certainly would have been less variable without you around in Jake's life. No one to throw him off his routine. And before him weren't you better able to protect your heart better than this? You had been calloused and strong before. Living with Jake and in this house has been like a fine grit sandpaper buffing you so now you only have smooth soft edges. 

Has that been the way it's been between the two of you this whole time, something bad that was disguised as good? You can't come up with an answer, and apparently, neither can he. So it sits there, wilting, rotting between the two of you.

The silence is loud and almost echoes in the bathroom, with no room to hide. You finally take one of Jake's hands in yours and play with his fingers. He seems content with this, relaxing even further into the water. One of his knees occasionally bumping into you playfully, as if you could forget that he was there, as if there were anything besides Jake on your radar. 

Then he is whispering your name against your neck, right behind your ear. Gooseflesh bursts across your skin, and his beard is coarse and scratchy against your sensitive skin. Not having been trimmed once since it started growing. You try to shift away but his lips follow you. Tired of the game you reach a hand behind you and fist it into Jake's long hair, tightly tugging his face away from your neck. Jake gasps in response. 

You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would descend into tickling. Jake grabs your wrist and turns it, and then ghosts his lips over your pulse point. After two more soft kisses there he presses three to your palm, and on each finger. Each press of his lips is intoxicating even in a place as insignificant as your hand. With your ring finger Jake's kisses are three times as long and lingering. It's an action that has you slamming your eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping. He finally releases your arm and you drop your hand back into the warm water. 

Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body. However, it is the feeling, emotional warmth of it that makes the difference. You tremble slightly feeling completely overwhelmed, the idea of being anywhere else or trying to move is devastating to your system. 

"Sugar pie?"

"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietly 

"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"

"No."

"Our mental health?"

"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." Jake nods along, in understanding with your words. 

"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?" 

"Not sure even you could swing that one, honey." You respond. Jake's eyes and whole face positively light up moments after you say the words. 

"Honey?"

You hum thinking it over before smiling and nodding, "Yup."

"But that's my nickname for you," Jake says in a pouting tone but the bright expression he is wearing hasn't dimmed. 

"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pie—"

"I called you Huckleberry pie once and—"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off. 

"Well no more honey for you anymore. You use half the sweet names under the sun, I'm allowed to have one. And I think it's honey." You cup Jake's scratchy bearded cheeks and smile softly. "You're my honey, now." 

"Why honey?"

"Because you're so sweet."

"I'm not," Jake says brokenly, all playfulness having been sucked out of him. His head is heavy in your palm as he eases into your hold.

 "You're sweet," you repeat more firmly. Then continue, "Plus I can just imagine how snug and happy you would be in those honey combs."

"Hexagons are one of the superior shapes," Jake sighs.

"Sure they are. And you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters, and hides those sad green eyes from you.  

"I never knew just how blond the sun could make your hair," You sigh when you reach the end, scratching back up his scalp to repeat the process. You are turned fully to face him now, sloshing the water a bit to settle more comfortably. However Jake doesn't move, he seems almost as if he could be a statue made of glowing gold. 

"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders. 

He squints a single eye open at you, and you freeze as if you've been caught. Instead Jake's hand's pull your knees to settle on either side of his hips. Dragging you that much closer to him. It makes your breath hitch and Jake's eyes darken, however, he still leaves a bit of space. 

"One of my grandpas was Italian," Jake says with a quirk of his lips. The single eye he had opened closed as the smile melted off his face. Your hands resume their path, after massaging Jake's shoulders you knead his neck. Which just leads to playing with his hair again. Your train of thought was lost until you noticed a small light but fresh scar on the top of his bicep. You lean forward and  gloss your lips over the skin there. Jake's hand tightens where he is holding your thighs. He takes a careful breath in through his nose, and a long exhale. He follows that up with two more shallow but steady breaths and then just like that the tension releases from his body as he releases the air out.

"Where did you learn how to breathe like that, cowboy?" You ask him, letting your thumb continue to trace the strange new scar you have been examining. 

"Oh, so, I'm cowboy now?"

"Mr. Cowboy, my honey." You coo back. Jake's eyes flutter open again, he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded.  

"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow. 

"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later. 

"I'm thinking, you did a whole summer of Vipassana, and meditation in some foreign country that made you have concerns about being that white guy(™)."  

As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world, and you find it unacceptable that his beard hides any part of them from your view. You see the hint of them but it's not the same, you think that as you trace the shape of one. Your right left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered. 

"We both know I could never do vipassana."

"I have evidence to the contrary," the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and you regret them instantly. 

"Don't be mean to me," he begs you. In the same breath he speaks the words you are already halfway through saying, sorry.

"I'm working on leaving it I promise," You tell him.

"We don't have to leave it, we could talk about it." Jake suggests hopefully. 

"We are leaving it Jake," you say back sharply and he snaps his mouth shut chewing at the side of his cheek for a moment before responding. 

"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump.  

"So, it wasn't meditation? Is this going to be another riveting USNA story?" You ask him, steering the conversation back on a lighter track. 

"It was before Annapolis."

"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and pressing your face against his bicep.  

"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.

"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly. 

"I had to take friendship classes in middle school." 

"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information. 

"This other kid and I hated each other, and we were constantly getting into it. The worst part is we had lockers right next to each other. He accidentally hit me with his locker, and I lost it. So I slammed his head right back and we started brawling. Anyways long story short, our school counselor made us take friendship classes, and taught us breathing techniques. It was all bull shit, but we ended up being friends afterwards, bonding over how stupid friendship class was."

"At least you got some good breathing techniques." 

"Something like that."  

"What's this one then? It's new." you say ghosting your lips over the scar you had found again. Jake sighs, glancing at the scar himself. 

"You are going to be mad," he starts. 

"Why would I be mad, honey?"

"I got two more moles removed." The admission makes you pull back and give Jake a weary suspicious glare. 

"Have you not been wearing sunscreen again?"

"No, I've been wearing sunscreen ever since you told me about it, I promise. The Doc just asked about one of them and wanted to do a biopsy. So, I said he might as well just take them all off while he was at it."

"And?" 

"Everything came back benign. Nothing to really worry about, Sugar."

"I always worry about you, Jakers." You sigh with relief and kiss that scar again, enjoying the feeling of having your head pillowed on his arm. 

"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know, but you know you must persist on. 

"I don't want to make you worse, Jake."

"You don't make me worse. I am worse, no one has ever inspired me to act quite as selfishly as you have. I don't even know how to wholly be anymore, without you." 

"I just want to make things better for you." 

Jake groans quietly, "Maybe someday it will finally click that you make everything better. That you are stunning, and gorgeous, and just over all the best." 

"We could clear cut a forest, and not find a single tree that's sappier than you Jake." It inspires a quirk of his lips but the laugh you were hoping for.

"You probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet like that for a long time, as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil. 

"Jake, where are you?" 

"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath. 

"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no. 

"Are you on the ocean?"

He feels the water around him briefly then settles his hands on your skin again. "It doesn't appear so."

"Are you on base?"

"No." 

"So, where are you?"

"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers. 

You examine him closely from his wet hair to the defined muscles of his shoulders and neck. How much muscle Jake gained deployment almost pushed him into a category you describe as too buff, but not actually going over the edge. As you trace the shape of his face you can easily identify what one of the problems is. 

"You are being suffocated," you tell him as your fingers trace up his cheeks and around through his hair there.

"Why do you have a beard Jake?" You ask in a gentle curious tone. 

"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."

"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly. 

"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water. 

"Do you want help?"

"You want to give me a shave, sugar?"

"I'd be willing to give it a go if you feel like it would help," you answer plainly. He thinks about it before nodding. 

"It would." 

That's all you need to hear before you are stepping out of the bath. Immediately you hate how the wet material of your shirt clings to your skin. So, you quickly rip it off and throw it into the shower. Jake groans behind you and you point a finger back at him while grabbing fresh towels and Jake's shaving kit from beside the sink.  

"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him. 

"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body. 

"You were two minutes from falling asleep."

"That was before," Jake whines as you come back to the bath and he sees you in even more detail. 

You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. Settled again your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake closes his eyes throwing his head back  whispering a quiet "Fuck."

When his eyes open again, they are slightly dilated with lust. It makes you smile at him whispering, "hi there." 

"Hi," he breaths back.

"Hi," you say again, smiling wider. Jake can't stop himself from smiling as well, lips drawn upwards. His hands trace up your bare sides and you give him a small glare. Grabbing his chin you tilt his head back once more. 

"Yup, hold yourself just like that," You tell him, pausing to make sure he doesn't move. You start to lather up some shaving cream spreading it along this neck. 

"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions. 

"Not really. So, you might want to give me pointers. I don't want to cut your pretty face." You answer with a teasing tone. 

Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then starts to detail the intricate shaving ritual he normally keeps. You follow each one of the steps. It's a slow process, shaving him. You are worried that you will cut him or make some other mistake in the process. Jake isn't hesitant or shy about giving you sweet and gentle encouragement. 

Finally, Jake's face is free of hair again. You help wipe away the remaining product, and dab on the aftershave in his kit you brought over. Just like he asked you. Jake winces but gives you a tentative smile when you stare at him examining your work. You smile back softly, setting things down that are in your way, feeling relief to be done. 

The two of you finish your bath before getting out and drying off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you head back to your room changing and settling into bed. Jake follows not long after in a pair of comfy pants and a soft muscle shirt. He asks if he can join you in bed even though you already pulled the covers back while waiting for him. 

Jake takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable until he is laying on his side facing you, meeting your gaze as you shift to see him better. You lift a hand to cup his face enjoying the fresh smooth skin there. 

"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently. Leaning forwards Jake angles his lips to barely brush over yours before he pulls back. 

"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more. 

"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips. 

"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper. 

"That's exactly the problem," Jake answers. "I won't do wrong by you again. And that means I don't want to rush anything. Are you in a hurry?"

"Does that have a timeline?" You ask, ignoring your frustration. 

"It does in a general sense."

"Care to share?"

"Sure," Jake mutters tiredly into your neck. "I think it's been going for a while, right?"

"That's right," You answer, letting your hand drift into his long hair. It was almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled to get it cut before he started work again leaving you only a few days left to savor this. His eyes close, and a small smile graces his face. With a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp a tiny whine tumbles out of him. Jake seems too tired to care anymore. His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands. 

"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask. 

"As I see it, the rest of our lives. So, give or take sixty-ish more years."

"We are making it the long haul huh?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We will, so there's absolutely no reason to start at a sprint." 

"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly. 

Jake huffs into your neck, sucking in a deep breath he blows it out slowly tickling your skin. "I have a great comeback for that."

"Oh really?" 

He hums in affirmation. Then he sleepily manages to crack an eye open and looks at you, while he mumbles, "But I am a sleepy boy. Wait, no…  a sleepy man"

You chuckle and kiss Jake's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy boy"

"Sleepy man," he tries to correct you, but the words are hardly coherent. It takes less than five minutes before Jake is fully asleep, and you aren't far off yourself. Jake was so warm, and it was so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones, falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake. Even in your dream you realize that might still not be enough. 

...

Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry, again Tumblr would't let me put it all here.

[seidenbros]

The Stars Remind Me of You

Requests are open | prompt lists for inspiration | Stranger Things Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Munson x (fem) Hopper!Reader Word count: 8767 Summary: El asks her older sister Y/N to help Hopper come around to Mike and her dating. Y/N’s solution to this? Get Eddie to pretend to be her boyfriend and act way worse than Mike. What starts as a joke, ends up being something very real. Warning/Tags: fluff, sooo much fluff, fake-dating, falling in love, first kiss (let me know if I missed anything) Author’s note: Congratulations to the wonderful @loveronlineee on 10k followers! What a milestone and so well deserved. So, this was a prompt from their 10k Celebration and I immediately fell in love with the Hopper!Reader prompt, so I had to write it down. And in all honestly: it's long but I could have written even more, because I love that dynamic. So I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it 💚

Read on AO3

“Y/N, you need to help me!” El proclaimed as she walked into your room, leaving the door wide open because your Dad wasn’t home, he was at work. Immediately, you lowered the volume of the music and put your book aside, laying it face down on your bed.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” You couldn’t even remember when you’d started calling her that, but it had stuck, because she’d liked it. It always reminded her of fall, of Halloween, when the two of you carved pumpkins with Hopper - a tradition El had quickly learned to love.

“It’s Dad.” She heaved a sigh and sat down next to you on the bed. It had been just you and Hopper until El had appeared, but you’d quickly opened your heart to her, made her part of your family. She was your sister, and you introduced her like that to everyone.

“What did he do this time?” Oh, Hopper was protective, always had been, and you still remembered how he scared your first boyfriend away with all his questions. In the end that had been better for you, because that lying, cheating bastard hadn’t deserved your time of day. Still, in that moment, you’d been so angry with your father that you hadn’t talked to him for nearly a week. He always wanted what was best for you and El, but sometimes, he had questionable methods.

“That stupid three inch rule he has for one.” El leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. “And he always interrupts and calls Mike’s Mum to tell her he’ll pick me up. I’m not a child anymore!”

That much was true, but you still had to chuckle. He’d had that three inch rule since you could remember, even though you hadn’t really brought that many guys home, at least not boyfriends, but he’d made sure that the door stayed open even when you’d only had a friend over to study for a test together.

“You’re lucky he actually likes Mike. You don’t want to know what he’s like when he doesn’t like the guy you’re going out with.”

“Why?”

“Because he goes full on cop-mode on that poor guy. I mean, in the end it was good, because Trevor had been lying to me the whole time.” You shrugged your shoulders, because it had been quite some time ago, and every guy after that hadn’t really seen your home. You’d done your best to keep your dates away from your home, but Hopper had found out nonetheless. Oh, all the talks you’d had with him, but they’d at least paved the way for El a little bit. You hoped.

“Mike is not lying to me.”

“I wasn’t implying that. I know that Mike is a good guy.” You really did. You’d known him for years now, and the way he looked at El was the way you wanted someone to look at you one day. Not that you were actively looking, because you were completely content without a boyfriend by your side - especially because most guys were rather superficial and just wanted to get you in the sheets.

“We can’t even go and watch a movie without him waiting for me as soon as the movie is over.” El pushed herself up on her elbows, her eyes on you. “Can you help me? Get him off my back?”

“I might have an idea.” Slowly, a grin started forming on your lips. You loved your sister enough to help her, and in addition you could play a little prank on your Dad. But therefore, you needed someone else, and that would probably take a little bit of convincing.

“Really?”

“Yeah… but we need Mike for this and we have to talk to his friend Eddie Munson.” You knew Eddie, but not that well, but you knew the rumours - and you also knew how much of that was true - and Hopper knew about them as well. So coming home with Eddie Munson by your side would definitely take your father’s focus off your sister.

“What do you want to talk to Eddie about?” El scrunched up her nose, her eyes fixed on you. The way you grinned at her, though, made her slowly realise what was going on. “Oh… Oh!”

And that was what brought you here, to Eddie’s trailer, Mike in tow. It was still warm enough to sit outside, at least as long as the sun was out. Once the sun was gone, you’d need a sweater, but you always had one in your car just in case.

“You’re kidding, right?” Eddie asked with a laugh, shaking his head, after you’d told him your idea.

“No, we’re completely serious!” Mike looked at Eddie, El’s hand clutched in his. These two were desperate, you could tell, and it wasn’t because they wanted to sneak away to do whatever… it was all so innocent.

“Would it be so bad to pretend to go out with me?” You chuckled to cover up insecurities that were bubbling up. At least your words managed to shut him up. Eddie looked you over, before he started to smile again.

“That’s definitely not it. I mean, it’s more that nobody would believe that someone like you is actually going out with the likes of me.” Eddie winked at you, covering up his own insecurities with that. He knew what people saw when they looked at him, and it was okay. He’d grown accustomed to that, because he had a couple of people in his life who knew him, who liked him for who he was.

“Well, but what if that’s exactly the kind of guy I like?” you challenged, crossing your arms beneath your breasts. “I haven’t dated anyone in a while because I don’t want one of these stuck up idiots that are overwhelmed when you ask them what the last book they read was. And then they answer with something like does this or that sports magazine count?” You rolled your eyes, because you’d really had these conversations.

Eddie looked at you for a moment, his lips slowly curving up into a smile. He liked your answer, liked the way you’d just described the majority of the guys here.

“Fair enough,” he said, trying to hide the smile behind his hair. “On one condition… Mike, you’ll take care of cleaning the room when we’re done with Hellfire for let’s say… two months.”

“Deal!” Mike pretty much jumped at this, grinning like a lovesick teenager - which he was - because this hopefully meant that he’d be able to spend some time alone with El, without Hopper waiting around every corner.

“So… what do you need from me, sweetheart?” Eddie focused his whole attention on you now, taking a step closer. After all, if you were going to pretend to be dating, you’d need to get accustomed to each other, get used to being close to each other. 

“I need you to face my Dad,” you said with a laugh, because you knew just how many guys were afraid of him.

“So, you need me to piss him off?”

“More or less. Though I think just the fact that we’re dating will be enough to get his attention of these two.” You cast a quick look at El and Mike who were already deep in conversation again, before you turned back to Eddie. “He knows all the rumours about you, so that will be enough. Not that I believe all that’s being said about you, couldn’t care less about some stupid rumours people put out there because they’re not happy with their own lives and need to put others down to not deal with their own problems… But he knows about them and he’ll keep a close watch on you when we’re together.”

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed, his grin growing bigger the more you talked.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?” You asked, shaking your head, because you knew that you could talk a mile a minute when you got agitated, and the people of Hawkins with all their prejudices really managed to bring that to light.

“Don’t worry, it’s cute!” Eddie cocked his head to the side, reaching for your hand. He was impressed with what you’d just said, because you’d said just what he was thinking about Hawkins, about the people here. “So, when do we start this?”

Eddie pulled you a little closer by the hand and you smiled. It was unusual, but it felt good, even though this wasn’t real. It was just pretend, like everything else that would happen between you from now on. You had no idea how far you’d take this, how much you needed to do to convince Hopper, though you were pretty sure that it was enough to show up with Eddie at your cabin.

“Tonight? We could go watch a movie, my treat. You pick me up and take me back home? Hopper should finish work in a bit, so he’ll be home when you pick me up. Only if you’re free of course.”

Eddie chuckled, before he raised his head to look at the sky. “Let me check…” Then he looked back at you. “I can make that happen. Pick you up at seven. And wear something nice!” He said it with a wink that made you smile. Of course you’d planned on dressing up for the occasion, because you Dad needed to get the right picture.

—

While El was preparing dinner with Hopper, you got ready to go out. You’d chosen a dress that didn’t reveal too much, just the right amount, showing off a bit of cleavage, and you’d opted for some red lipstick that went with the colour of the dress.

“Oh you look so pretty!” El immediately said with a smile when you entered the kitchen. It brought a smile to your lips, and you remembered that you wanted to show El a thing or two about makeup the next time you did this. You usually didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but it was good for the effect you wanted to achieve.

“Thanks, pumpkin!”

“Where’re you going dressed like… that?” Hopper scanned your outfit before his eyes bored into yours.

“I’m going on a date.” Your outfit was not the least bit inappropriate, you weren’t a kid anymore, so he couldn’t tell you what to wear. If he could, he’d probably shove a big ugly sweater at you that hid your whole body.

“What date?” That got his attention, drew it away from the outfit you were wearing. A good sign.

“I’m going to watch a movie with Eddie.”

“Eddie who?”

“Does it really matter? Dad, I’m nineteen!”

“Of course it matters!” He got up from the chair where he’d been cutting up vegetables to walk over to you. “So…?”

“Eddie Munson.” You crossed your arms and didn’t look away.

“Oh hell nah! You’re not going out with that guy.” Hopper shook his head violently, and you had to do your best not to laugh, because this was just the reaction you’d predicted. El was watching in amusement, only because Hopper couldn’t see her.

“Yes I am.” You could hear the car pull up in front of the cabin. “And I am leaving now!”

“Y/N! He’s trouble!”

“Well, maybe I like a little trouble.” You had the audacity to smirk at him, before you grabbed your keys and pretty much bolted out of the door and ran towards Eddie’s van.

“Hello sweetheart,” he greeted you, because he’d just gotten out of the car to pick you up at the door, but that was apparently not what you wanted.

“Get in and let’s go!” You commanded him and quickly got in the car, because you heard the front door open behind you again.

“Y/N!” Hopper yelled after you, stepping out onto the porch.

“Oh shit,” Eddie mumbled and followed your orders. Before Hopper could get to the car, the two of you were on your way to the cinema.

“What did you tell him?” Eddie asked on the way.

“Just that I’m going out with Eddie Munson.” You turned in your seat to look at him. “And then I kinda went gotta go and bolted for the door.” A chuckle followed your words.

“He really thinks that highly of me, yeah?”

You could see the corners of his lips twitch up only for a moment, but then his lips set in a firm line. He was used to people assuming the worst about him, but sometimes, it still hurt.

“It’s not exactly that.” You reached out your hand to lay it on his forearm, give him some reassurance. “He’s just extremely protective of us. He’s usually not someone who believes in a lot of rumours, but when it comes to his daughters, he’ll listen to everything people say just to figure out if it’s true or not to protect us. He scared my ex boyfriend off with his behaviour. I mean, I’m glad he did, because I didn’t need that rat bastard in my life cheating on me, but I guess that’s one reason why I didn’t date that much after that.”

“Makes sense… I mean that he wants to protect you.” Eddie could get behind that, figuring that Hopper was someone who did everything for the ones he loved, and that included checking out the guys you went out with. “What’s another reason?”

“Well… I already told you that I think most of these guys are extremely superficial.” And that annoyed the hell out of you, because they judged others by what they wore, by their outer appearance, and didn’t care one bit about the person. “And when I tell them that I want to go on adventures one day just like Bilbo did seemingly out of the blue, you can see their eyes popping out of their heads because they have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“Or it’s because they think you want to go on an adventure with a couple of bearded men and a wizard.” Eddie chuckled, but his answer made you look over at him again, surprise written all over your face.

“You’ve read the Hobbit!” Excitement was audible in your voice, because you hadn’t found anyone to talk to about this so far.

“Sure have. And The Lord of the Rings… not just once.”

“Finally someone who knows just how good these books are. I mean, I still need to read the last one, but I love them already.” And you’d read The Hobbit three times now, because it alway catapulted you into a completely different world. Because it was written as a children’s book, it was easier to read than the other ones, but you loved them all equally.

“I can say the same. I haven’t met anyone who’s read them all. Gareth started but alway complained because they were too descriptive, so he stopped halfway into the first one.” Which was a shame, but Eddie couldn’t force him to read a good book.

You kept on talking about the books until you were at the cinema. You really enjoyed the movie, and so did Eddie, because you kept talking about it animatedly on your way back. Once he parked the car, though, you felt your pulse pick up, because the lights were still on - just like you’d expected.

“Come on, I’ll walk you to the door,” Eddie offered, opening his door.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” Because you didn’t know how Hopper would react, what he would do. It would be a shame if he just chopped off Eddie’s head now that you were getting to know him, and realised that you had a lot more in common than you’d expected.

“Of course. This is a date after all, right?” Eddie winked at you through the open door, before he walked around the car to take your hand and lead you to the door.

“I had a really great evening. I mean it!” You still held his hand, smiled up at him, because this had been the best date you’d ever had, even though it wasn’t a real date. But you could say that it was going out with a friend maybe.

“So did I.” And Eddie wasn’t even surprised, because you were an interesting person, easy to talk to, and didn’t give a shit about everything people said about him. Eddie leaned forward, raised his hands to brush your hair away from your ear. “And you look really nice in that dress…” His breath tickled your ear, making you shiver involuntarily. “Hot even…” He grazed his lips over your cheek, but then the door flew open.

You jumped, because you hadn’t expected it to happen right that moment, but your Dad always had impeccable timing.

“It’s late,” he simply said, arms crossed over his chest, eyes staring daggers into Eddie, and he didn’t even glance at you.

“We came here right when the movie was over. I could have stayed away all night if I wanted to.” You rolled your eyes, but weren’t sure whether Hopper was even listening to you.

“Evening Mr Hopper,” Eddie said, grin still in place. He was intimidated by Hopper, but he would do his best not to let the man see it.

“Get inside!” Now, Hopper looked at you, pointed with his thumb behind himself.

“Alright…” You went to take Eddie’s leather jacket off that he’d given you after the cinema because it had gotten a little cold.

“No, no, keep it till our next date.”

You could swear that you heard a growl from Hopper, but he didn’t move.

“Thank you.” You put your hand on Eddie’s shoulder for leverage, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You better go before we get inside, otherwise he’ll give you a talk.” You whispered the words into his ear, making him chuckle. But he followed your advice and got going, waving to you from the van before he drove home.

“What is this, y/n?”

“It was a date, and a great one at that, thank you very much.” You walked past Hopper, who followed you, closing the door behind you.

“You realise that I’m just worried about your well-being, right? Because I love you!”

“Dad…” Your sigh was followed by a smile and you stepped up to him. “I know… But Eddie is the first guy that doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy because I read fantasy books. We actually have a lot to talk about, a lot in common. He’s not as bad as people say he is.” Honest words, because you’d really enjoyed your time together. Not just because everything you’d talked about, but also because Eddie had been the perfect gentleman for the whole evening.

“Right…” Hopper ran a hand over his face before he sighed. “I’ll still keep an eye on him!”

“I know you will.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek before you walked to your room. “Night Dad! Love you!”

“Love you too, kiddo.” He did, he really did, but right now, he didn’t know whether to shake you or lock you up to keep you from making stupid decisions like dating Eddie Munson.

—

Your next date happened a couple of days later. Of course, your Dad had tried to talk to you about Eddie, had asked you whether you really thought that it was a good idea to go out with him, but you’d told him that you really liked Eddie, and enjoyed spending time with him, that he was the most interesting guy that you’d met in this god-forsaken town - and that was true, because while you weren’t really dating, you still spend time together even when Hopper couldn’t see it. Because Eddie and you had a lot in common, conversation flowed easily between the two of you, and he made you smile and laugh so much that you found yourself looking forward to seeing him more and more each day.

Today, Eddie would spend some time at your cabin so that he’d be there once Hopper got home. At least your plan worked, because El was able to spend time with Mike without Hopper being on their backs the whole time, and even when Mike was here, he didn’t check up on them every five minutes. Sure, the three-inches-rule was still active, but they had a lot more time to themselves than before.

“I actually have an idea what we can do,” Eddie said once the door was closed behind him, a mischievous grin playing on his lips.

“Judging by the look on your face…”

“Nah, it’s completely innocent, I promise!” Eddie pulled a book from his backpack and held it up for you to read the title. “Since you said you hadn’t started the third book I thought we could read it together.”

“Oh!” That was a surprise, but it definitely made you smile. “I’d love that! It’s been a while since someone read to me.”

“Thought so… And I got you something else.” He reached into the backpack again and presented a Hellfire Shirt to you. “I made you your own shirt… I mean, if you’re my girlfriend, you should have one, right?”

“Are you serious?” Your eyes lit up when you took the shirt from him. You pressed it to your chest, before you leaned over to him and kissed his cheek. “This is great!” Such a wonderful idea, but that also made your heart beat a little faster. Not that this meant anything of course.

You walked with him to your room, pulled your own shirt over your head on the way, giving Eddie a glimpse of your bra. You didn’t think anything of it, but you just wanted to swap your own shirt for the one he’d given you, so you pulled that over your head right away.

Eddie’s eyes were fixed on your back in the moment, on the skin that looked you soft and begged to be touched, but he quickly shook his head. This was just pretend, right? Didn’t mean that he couldn’t enjoy it, enjoy your presence, talking to you and whatever would happen. But it meant that this was just for some time and not forever, so he had to remind himself of that every now and again, before he really fell in love with you.

“How do I look?” you asked as you twirled around to him, a big smile on your face.

“Ravishing!” Eddie dropped his backpack, eyes fixed on you. Heat rose to your cheeks, because you hadn’t expected that kind of answer from him. “You really look like my girl now.”

My girl… It sounded so good, but you couldn’t allow yourself to get used to it. This wasn’t real after all, but you already knew that you didn’t want to let him out of your life again, keep him as a friend of course.

“It’s really cosy here… I like the decor.” Eddie looked around, a grin on his face. You’d really made it your room, had put up quite a lot of photos on your walls, from your family, friends, parties you’d attended. Eddie stopped in front of some pictures from your last Christmas, El, Hopper and you smiling like idiots with a big cake in front of you, Santa and his reindeer on top of that.

“El wanted a real christmassy cake, and she loves reindeer, so I made that for her.” A fond smile was playing on your lips, because you loved your sister so much, both of them. It had been a lot of work, but it had been worth it.

“You made that?” The astonished look on Eddie’s face made you giggle. “That’s impressive!”

“Thank you. It’s a lot of fun actually… Exhausting, but baking is soothing for the soul. At least for me.”

“So, if I ask reeeeeaaaal nice, will you make me a cake for my birthday?”

“Mhhh I could maybe arrange something. I already have an idea.”

“You gonna tell me?”

“Nope. You’ll just have to wait.” You winked at him before you got on your bed, patting the spot beside you so that he would join you. “But you’re a clever boy, I think you’ll figure out what kind of theme I have in mind.” Especially considering what you’d talked about most, and what you were about to read.

“Maybe,” Eddie said with a grin before he joined you. He took off his shoes so that he wouldn’t get your sheets dirty, then he scooted up so that he could rest his back against the pillows and get comfortable.

As soon as he’d opened the book, though, you changed your position and lay down, resting your head in his lap. When your Dad came back, that would look more convincing than both of you just sitting next to each other, bodies barely touching. Of course, you’d left the door open a bit, because you didn’t want to break your Dad’s rules, even though he wasn’t even home yet.

“Is that okay?” you asked when you felt Eddie stiffen slightly. Maybe you should have asked beforehand.

“Perfect. Was just a little surprised.” Eddie’s smile reassured you, but it also did things to you that you didn’t want to think about too much.

“Okay… but you need to tell me if something’s not okay with you, right?” You had to make sure that he knew that, because you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable in any way.

“I don’t think you could do anything to make me feel uncomfortable, sweetheart, but the same goes for you. ‘Kay?”

“Yeah, but you’re making me feel really safe with you, so I think I’ll be alright.” You’d thought that from the first moment on, and you had to let him know.

“Good.” Eddie cleared his throat before he opened the book to the first page. Your confession had flustered him a little, but he tried to get some distraction from the book now. “Pippin looked out from the shelter of Gandalf’s cloak. He wondered if he was awake or still sleeping, still in the swift-moving dream in which he had been wrapped so long since the great ride began.”

As soon as he started reading, you closed your eyes. Eddie’s voice was soothing and enthralling at the same time, especially when he made different voices for different characters. He held the book in one of his hands, while the other started playing with your hair, gently massaging your scalp now and then. It had surprised you at first, because it was such an intimate gesture, but you found yourself really enjoying this. It felt good, familiar even though it was the first time the two of you were this close.

The front door opened and then closed with a loud noise. Yep, Hopper had seen Eddie’s van outside of the cabin and he all but stormed towards your room, ready to tell you again about his rules, but he couldn’t say anything, because the door wasn’t fully closed. Still, he shoved it open and stared at the two of you.

“What are you doing?” His eyes scanned your room, your body, and he was relieved to find you still dressed. He trusted you, he just didn’t trust the guys around you, especially not Eddie Munson.

Slowly, you opened your eyes and sat upright. Eddie had nearly gotten you into some trance like state listening to his voice, but that was over now.

“Reading? What does it look like?” You leaned up against Eddie, put your hand on his thigh.

“Reading… That’s what you call it now?” Hopper filled the whole door frame when he crossed his arms, trying his best to calm his own breathing.

“Yes. Reading.” Eddie held up the book he was holding, putting his free hand on top of yours to keep it in place. “Y/N said she hasn’t read The Return of the King yet, so I thought we could read it together.”

“Right…” Hopper sighed, but he narrowed his eyes at Eddie. “And I won’t find any drugs if I search your stuff?”

“Dad!” you gasped, making a move to get off the bed, but Eddie held you back.

“No, you won’t.” Eddie stayed completely calm, and his presence calmed you as well. “No drugs anywhere here. Just my cigarettes.” And that was something Hopper couldn’t say anything against.

“Alright.” Hopper cast a glance at Eddie’s backpack, but thought better of it. After all, he trusted you and he didn’t want to overstep this line. “But the door stays open.”

Eddie stayed for another hour, but then he said that he had band practice, and you didn’t want him to miss that.

“Next time, you read to me, alright?” Eddie said at the door, leaning towards you to kiss your cheek. A real kiss would have made your father believe this even more, but it didn’t feel right.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Goodbye Mr. Hopper!” Eddie called out to your Dad, but only got a grunt in response, because Hopper was glad when Eddie was gone now. He’d been staring at your door pretty much the whole time, and with Eddie’s departure, he’d be able to relax a little bit.

—

The next weekend, Eddie spent time at your cabin again. This time, you wanted to cook dinner together, surprise your Dad with that, and have dinner together. El would come home with him as well, so you were cooking for four people. Eddie had made you a mix-tape that was playing in the background. It was a mixture of his music and yours.

“What do you need me to do?” Eddie asked, pushing up the sleeves of his shirt. “I need instructions, ‘cause I don’t really cook.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” You laid out the vegetables, a cutting board and a knife. Eddie Could take care of chopping everything up for the salad while you took care of the chicken. “You have to cut them into small squares.”

“Do they have to be the same size? All of them?” Eddie took the knife in his hand, hoping for a moment that he could stare the vegetables down so that they’d just fall into pieces by themselves, but that wouldn’t work.

“Of course not,” you said with a laugh. “Just bite-sized I would say.”

“Alright. I can probably do that. I’ll try.” And he did. He started with the first bell pepper, his tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration. He took his time, because he wanted to do it correctly and not cut his own finger off. Meanwhile you were ready with preparing the chicken breasts and put them in the oven.

“That looks good!” You leaned over to look at his work, making Eddie chuckle.

“You think so?”

“For someone who doesn’t usually cook, it really does!” You stole a piece of the pepper and popped it into your mouth. “You just need to hold the knife a little differently, that makes it easier. Here, let me.”

You ducked beneath his arm to stand in front of him, your back against his chest. You could feel the heat radiating off him, seeping into your own skin. Your heart reacted immediately, picking up its pace. On the one hand, you didn’t want this, because this was just make believe, but on the other hand, you wanted to know if you were really developing feelings for him. Your own reaction right now, the urge to lean into him more and relish the feeling of being this close to him, spoke volumes.

“Here.” You put your hand on top of Eddie’s, adjusted his grip and then moved his hand to cut the cucumber. “Can you feel how easy this is in comparison to before?”

“Mhm,” Eddie hummed, his head now right next to yours, his chin resting on your shoulder. The hand that wasn’t occupied with cutting up vegetables came around your body, holding you to his chest, his fingers splayed out over your stomach. “You’re a good teacher.” He turned his head towards you, his nose brushing your cheek, before you could feel his lips against it.

“You’re a quick learner,” you contered, a smile spreading on your lips, while your hand stopped moving with his. Eddie put the knife down, before he put his hand on your waist to slowly turn you around to him. Your hands ended up on his shoulders, your heart in your throat by now, and you didn’t trust yourself to say a word.

“Y/N…” his eyes dropped to your lips, but before he could do or say anything else, the door opened.

“Y/N! We’re back!” El exclaimed, the biggest grin on her face that grew even wider when she saw Eddie and you together like this. You quickly scrambled out of his embrace, but Hopper had already seen the two of you together. Which was perfect! At least it should be, because it was proof just how much you liked Eddie, how serious this was, right? Right. And that was the problem for you. This was supposed to be a pretend relationship, not a real one, but your heart had already gone down that road, otherwise it wouldn’t be hammering in your chest. And your skin wouldn’t be tingling everywhere. But what did Eddie think? All of a sudden, this was becoming a bit too real.

“What’s going on here?” Hopper took off his hat, eyes fixed on your flushed face.

“We’re making dinner,” Eddie chipped in, leaning his hip against the counter. “Thought we’d surprise you.”

“Hm.” Hopper nodded, looking from Eddie back to you. “Smells good already.” He didn’t address the situation, just went on to get changed.

“How are things with Mike?” You asked El before she could ask you about what she’d just walked into. You knew that she was capable of something like that, and you didn’t really have an answer. Not one that you wanted to say out loud anyway.

“Good.” El put down her bag and went to set the table. Eddie was busy chopping the rest of the vegetables, grin still in place. “He’s really happy, and I think Dad is getting more… okay with the situation.” Hopper would always have an eye on the guys in his daughters’ lives, but he knew he had to let go eventually.

“I’m happy for you, pumpkin!” You pulled your sister into a hug, glad that your plan had worked.

“Thank you!”

“Set the table, wash your hands, and then we’ll be able to eat, I think.” Eddie was done with the veggies, so you just had to get the dressing ready and the chicken out of the oven, and you were good to go.

Conversation flowed easily over dinner, though Hopper didn’t talk much. He listened in while enjoying the meal you’d cooked. Eddie and El were talking most of the time, and it was heartwarming to see them get along so well. Not that it should matter in the end, but you really enjoyed watching them together. Eddie told her about the next campaign he was planning for Hellfire, but made her promise not to tell Mike anything, a little secret between the two of them.

All in all, it was a wonderful evening, and even your Dad managed a smile of two. But after dinner, it was time for Eddie to leave, because he didn’t want to impose on you, give you some family time. He was always very considerate, which was something your Dad definitely hadn’t expected, and when he offered to walk Eddie out, you wanted to protest, but Eddie said that it was okay. He leaned over to you to kiss your cheek before he waved at your sister.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” Eddie gave you a wink before he put his shoes back on and walked outside, jangling the car keys in his hands. Hopper made sure to close the door behind them, because he didn’t want either of you to listen in on his conversation with Eddie.

“So, you’re giving me the talk now?” Eddie asked, turning to face Hopper. He’d never been any parent’s favourite, he knew that, because of his looks, because of the rumours, so he was prepared to be told to stay away from you. In the beginning, he wouldn’t have minded hearing that, in fact, it would have spurred him on to spend even more time with you in order to make Hopper believe that the two of you were head over heels in love with each other. By now… he cared about what your father thought of him. Because he liked you. More than that actually. He’d felt it before today, but after getting so close with you in the kitchen, when he’d wanted to kiss you so badly before you’d been interrupted, he knew that it wasn’t just a pretend situation anymore. At least not for him, and so Hopper’s opinion mattered.

“Look…” Hopper started, rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin before he sighed. “I don’t give a fuck about the rumours. Hell, they say all kinds of stuff about me, too.” But he knew about the drugs, at least that was what he believed to be true, so they wouldn’t talk about this. “All I care about are my daughters. And if you ever… ever hurt y/n, I will make your life miserable.”

Eddie had to admire that kind of attitude, because his parents had been the complete opposite, and hadn't cared about him at all. Wayne on the other hand was more like Hopper, even though he’d never threatened to hurt someone on Eddie’s behalf.

“I’m not planning on doing that.” Eddie sighed. “I know I’m not exactly the person anyone envisions for their daughter… but I like y/n. I really do. It frightens me just how much I like her, because I haven’t felt like this before.” Eddie was pouring his heart out, was being utterly honest, because he knew that if he wanted to have a chance - a real chance - with you, he needed Hopper’s approval. You were doing all this for your sister, because you loved her, but you loved your Dad as well, and you needed his approval, whether you were aware of it or not.

“Alright.” Hop said after a moment, nodding his head. “That’s all I wanted to hear.” Now, that really took a big load off Eddie’s mind. “But the three-inch rule still applies!”

Eddie had to stifle a laugh.

“That’s alright with me, Mr. Hopper.”

“Just… Hopper or Hop. No Mr this or that.”

“Alright.” Eddie couldn’t hide the smile that was breaking out on his lips. Maybe, he really did have a chance.

“You like him, don’t you?” El hugged you from the side while the two men were outside, which took your mind off things at least, because you were a little bit worried about your Dad talking to Eddie all alone.

“Hm?” You looked at her, smoothing a hand over her hair. “He’s nice. He’s a friend, I guess.”

“You look at all your friends like this? I don’t think so.” El chuckled, leaning her head against your shoulder. “And he looks at you the same way.”

“You sure?” Hope bubbled up inside you, but you tried to push it away. It wouldn’t be good to get your hopes up right now. “I don’t know.”

“He looks at you like Jonathan looks at Nancy.”

“Now, that’s a comparison.” You had to laugh, but it was actually a little reassuring, because you’d seen the way Jonathan looked at his girlfriend, like he was constantly in awe of her and wanted to lay the world at her feet. “But we’re just pretending, and I don’t think that he wants more than that. I mean, I really enjoy our time together.” Which was an understatement, and El knew that, because you’d told her all about your dates.

“Maybe, it’s not just pretend anymore?” El’s words left you speechless. It wasn’t just pretending on your part anymore, that was for sure, but you didn’t know what Eddie thought. There was only one way to find out, but you weren’t sure whether you were ready for that.

—

“That’s your ride,” Hopper said a couple of days later when you heard Eddie’s van pull up in front of the cabin. You had no idea what he was doing here. When you’d talked earlier that day, he hadn’t mentioned that he’d come visit you, especially not when it was already that late. The last time he’d been here, he’d forgotten his sweater, and you hadn’t told him or given it back, because you liked wearing it around the house, kind of parading it in front of your Dad, but you also liked to be enveloped by the faint smell of him. If you’d known that he’d come by, you would have taken off his sweater. You would have put on at least a bit of makeup after the shower or styled your hair, but you were in comfortable, cosy clothes that kept you warm.

“What do you mean?” You cast a glance at Hopper and El, who were grinning at each other.

“Eddie’s picking you up!” El provided, but that didn’t tell you much.

“A date?” Hopper’s words made your eyes widen, and he chuckled. “Don’t worry. Your outfit is perfect for what he’s planned.”

“What?” You were trying to wrap your head around what the hell was going on, but couldn’t really figure it out. “Did you… Wait, did you plan that together with him?”

“Maybe?” Your Dad got up from the sofa and walked over to you. This couldn’t be happening, could it?

“What happened to he’s trouble?” You could still hear him say that, could see the look on his face when you’d told him that you were going out with Eddie.

“I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

Hopper stopped in front of you and put his hands on your shoulders, a gentle smile playing on his lips - one that you saw way too little of, but that you adored nonetheless.

“Because you like him, y/n.” He leaned down to you to place a kiss on your forehead. “And he really cares about you. I’ll still keep an eye on him, just so you know, but I have to give you a little more freedom.”

“I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone.” You couldn’t help but laugh, when you hugged your father. “I can’t believe you planned this behind my back!” You turned your head around to look at your sister, who knew just how much you liked Eddie. “And you!”

“We just want to see you happy!” El got up to snuggle up to the two of you and press a kiss to your cheek. “Sometimes you need a little nudge.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hopper looked down at El, because she was referring to taking a step from the fake-dating to real dating, but your Dad didn’t know about all of it being make believe.

“I’ll tell you later. Y/N has got to go now, or Eddie will leave without her.”

“Right. Have fun and make sure he brings you home safely in the morning.”

“In the morning?” That made your heart beat faster, but Hopper just nodded, and if he was okay with that, it was definitely something completely innocent. He wouldn’t have agreed otherwise.

“Yes, now get going!”

And you did, you put on your shoes and your jacket, before you left the Cabin. Eddie was standing by his car waiting for you.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come out.”

“I would have come out sooner, if I’d known about this.” “What, do you not like surprises?”

“I do!” You stopped in front of him, a smile on your face that reached your eyes and lit up your whole face. “But if I’d known, I could have changed into something else.”

Eddie held you at arm’s length, lips slowly curving up into a smile.

“I think you look cute. My sweater looks so much better on you!”

“Yeah, I… wanted to give it back, but kinda forgot about it.” A blatant lie, but you didn’t want to tell him why you’d kept it. Not now anyway.

“Don’t worry, I quite enjoy seeing you in my clothes.” Eddie winked at you, before he got in the car with you and started the engine.

“Where are we going anyway?”

“Patience, darling. It’s a surprise after all, right?”

“I know, but Dad said you’d bring me home in the morning, and that made me really curious.” And a little nervous, so you couldn’t keep your legs still, bouncing them up and down. Eddie noticed that straight away, so he put his hand on your thigh. That managed to stop your movements, but it also made your skin tingle beneath his touch, spreading out through your whole body.

“If you don’t want that, just say the words and I’ll take you back home.” Eddie looked at you for a moment, gave you a reassuring smile before he turned his attention back on the road. “D’you trust me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, because it was what you felt. In his presence, you’d always felt safe, and right now was no exception.

“Good, then… just a little patience. It won’t take long to get there.”

You placed your hand on top of his on your thigh and ran your thumb over his skin again and again, because you needed something to do. Eddie drove out of Hawkins, but you kept quiet, knowing that he wouldn’t answer your questions. Another ten minutes and he stopped the car on top of a hill overlooking the city, but when you turned to the other side, mostly darkness welcomed you, but that assured that you had a great view of the sky, of all the stars that were shining. A breathtaking view already!

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Eddie asked, opening the back doors of the van to get some stuff out.

“It really is.” You turned towards him, eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “You need help?”

“No, no, I got it.” He carried everything over, laid out a big blanket, put down some containers, bottles and whatnot. “Come on, sit down.”

“You know, we could have had a picnic during the day as well.” “Sure, but that wouldn’t have been anywhere near as romantic as this is, right?” The hopeful look in his eyes made you smile. He seemed almost nervous, and apparently he was, judging by the way he twisted one of his rings around his finger.

“That’s true.” Slowly, you sat down next to him. “So, you wanted to stargaze with me?”

“Yes.” Eddie reached for another blanket and put it over your lap. “Ever heard of the Orionids?”

“I think I heard that before. Why?”

“They’re an annual meteor shower, so we can watch some shooting stars tonight.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I hope so. But that’s why I brought you here, to watch the Orionids with you.”

“I never pictured you as someone who liked to stargaze, Eddie Munson.” “Oh, I’m full of surprises, darling.” Eddie chuckled, before he wrapped one arm around your shoulder, pulling you close.

You talked for a bit about the stars, about books, all the topics you’d talked about before, and it was so easy with him, so… natural that you lost track of time completely. At one point, you’d both laid down on your backs, staring up at the sky, Eddie’s arm wrapped around you to keep you close, your head leaning against his shoulder. The blanket was wrapped around both of you, but being this close to Eddie provided enough warmth already, so you were all cosy.

“There!” Eddie pointed in one direction, your eyes immediately following, and you saw the first shooting star.

“Quick! Make a wish!” you said, getting all giddy with excitement.

“Why don’t you make one?”

“You saw it, so you get to make a wish. I don’t make the rules.”

“I actually only have one wish right now. And that’s not something any shooting star can make come true.”

“Why?” You turned your head towards him to look at him. Your faces were mere inches apart, noses almost touching.

“Because that’s not in the stars… it’s in your hands.” Eddie tightened his hold around you, fingers fanning out over your back. His other hand came up to cup your cheek. You felt your breath hitch when he bumped his nose against yours. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you now.”

You wanted that as well, but were incapable of forming words right now. The butterflies in your stomach were ready to burst at any minute, but he was still waiting for your okay. A smile spread on your lips when you put your hand on his chest and leaned in, hoping he’d get the hint. And he did.

Eddie’s lips met yours in a soft, languid kiss. You ran your fingers up his chest, to his shoulder, but Eddie quickly grabbed your waist and pulled you on top of him, making you giggle and break the kiss.

“I’ve been dreaming of this ever since we started dating.” He ran a hand through your hair, putting his hand at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing over the skin just beneath your ear. A sigh escaped your lips when he did that.

“Really?” You couldn’t believe his words, but knew that he wouldn’t lie to you about something like this. You wiggled around a bit to get more comfortable until you found the perfect position, his thigh between your legs,and in turn your leg between his.

“I was always intrigued by you, but never really got the chance to talk to you. And you blew me away on that first date.” Eddie chuckled, running his hand up and down your back, but when he reached the hem of the sweater, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric, warm hands meeting your bare skin, resulting in another happy sigh.

“I actually felt the same way,” you admitted, “And… I actually didn’t give your sweater back because I liked wearing it. Made me feel like you were around.”

“That’s really cute, sweetheart!” Eddie pecked your lips again, before he had to chuckle. “And your Dad actually approves of this.”

“Yeah, how did you manage that? I mean, he even helped you with this?”

“He did.” And Eddie was still a little surprised, but also rather proud that Hopper had offered him his help, after El had talked to both of them about your feelings. Eddie didn’t know whether she’d told him about the whole fake-dating thing, but in the end, it didn’t matter. “When he walked me out of the cabin… I was just completely honest with him.” Eddie stopped his hand at the small of your back, fanned out his fingers to cover as much skin as possible. He used his other hand to cup your cheek once again. 

“I told him that I like you… and that I’ve never felt like this for anyone else.” Your heart skipped a beat when you heard that, and now you were the one to initiate the kiss. It started out just like the first one, but got more heated rather quickly. You opened your lips to him, explored his mouth with your own tongue while you felt his hand tangle in your hair. You felt warm all over, and your lips were a little swollen from the kiss when you eventually broke apart.

“I like you, too, Eddie Munson… a lot actually.”

“Well, that sounds promising. So we’re taking our fake-dating up a level to real proper dating?”

“I think we’re already kinda past that dating-stage, don’t you think?” After all, you’d been on a couple of dates, had gotten to know each other quite well, and Eddie had prepared the most romantic date you’d ever been on.

“So, you’re gonna call me your boyfriend in front of your Dad now?”

“If that’s okay with you?”

“Okay?” Eddie said, leaning in for another quick kiss. “Sweetheart, I’ve been waiting to hear you call me that. ‘Cause now I can tell everyone what a wonderful, gorgeous, smart girlfriend I have, so that they can all get jealous.”

Before you could react in any way, Eddie kissed you again, and you forgot everything that had been on your mind, everything you’d wanted to say. You were happy, and that was all that mattered.

Tag-list: @violetpenguinkris @tellhound @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @spideyanakin-interacts @bellamy-barnes @beepisbeep @snapefiction @hardysbitch @give-em-hellfire @sadbitchfangirl @ravenclawkimmi @lacrymosa-24 @ruinedbythehobbit @samlealea

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[gukyi]

the love project | jjk

summary: from running to mcdonald’s at 3am after a halloween party where the two of you dressed up as the teletubbies to timing how long it takes for him to drink a cup of monster mixed with mountain dew and iced coffee and then do fifty push-ups, you’re used to your best friend jungkook asking you to do all sorts of crazy things. but, of all the shit the two of you do, letting him follow you around for a week with a camera and take candid photos of you for a photography assignment might just be the craziest of them all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader genre: fluff, comedy word count: 12k warnings: college antics, hopeless pining, slow burn a/n: me: this fic will be 10k max! also me: actually nevermind on par for the course of this blog, i hope you enjoy this fic! it was so much fun to write and it definitely got me back into the ~writing mood~. more fics coming soon!

These days, the weeks pass you by like trains on a platform. They whiz past you, the only discernible features being the beginning and the end of them, with the middle nothing but a blur. 

At least, that’s how it feels when you’re in college, and the days bleed into weeks bleed into months, and suddenly you’re one year closer to graduating, one year closer to figuring out what next to do with your life, even if you’re still missing that one general education requirement you forgot to take in your first year so now you’re trying to cram it into your schedule at the last minute.

Okay, you’ll admit it. Introduction to Astronomy is kicking your ass. That’s what you get for putting it off until junior year, when you’re supposed to have reached the point in your History major career where you don’t have to look at numbers anymore and the idea of doing basic math is absolutely unfathomable. History majors don’t do math. They just don’t. It vanished from your academic arsenal long before now, alongside your ability to interpret word problems and understand science textbooks. 

Perhaps in another universe, you would have actually retained those skills past high school, but that universe is not this one, and so your problem sets can solve themselves or not be solved at all. 

Your best friend would have to disagree.

“It’s not even calculus!” Jungkook exclaims over a mouthful of a Starbucks tomato and pesto panini, pointing to your laptop in exasperation, as if the answer has been staring you in the face for the past fifteen minutes. “It’s just algebra! All you’re doing is plugging the numbers into the formula and finding the missing variable!”

“Easy for you to say,” you huff, furiously erasing at the notebook in front of you as you get yet another incorrect answer. Who knew math could be so difficult? Oh, that’s right. You did. “You took that advanced differential equations class for fun last year. It’s not even required for your major. You’re just a masochist.”

“Says the person who convinced their advisor to let them take seven classes because they, and I quote, ‘all seemed so interesting’ and you ‘didn’t want to miss out.’” Jungkook rebukes pointedly. “Because your life would be so terrible if you didn’t take Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe.”

He’s got you there. Seven classes is a lot. In your defense, Economic History of Pre-Industrialized Europe was very interesting and you got a 4.0 that semester. So who is he to judge? Jungkook’s favorite pastime is pretending that taking three different computer science classes in a single semester isn’t going to single-handedly kill him.

Jungkook watches you struggle for a few moments more before he sighs, like he can’t take looking at someone so mathematically incompetent any longer. He stuffs the remaining third of his Starbucks panini into his mouth all at once like the ravenous beast he is before he reaches over the tiny table you’re sat at to look at your problem set himself. He turns your laptop towards him and grabs hold of your notebook, furrowing his eyebrows as he enters Work Jungkook Mode. 

Work Jungkook Mode is the mode of him you see most often during finals week or the rare occasions where you meet up to actually try and get work done. Work Jungkook has tunnel vision for whatever assignment is currently in front of him, which he will do either in one sitting or die trying. Work Jungkook lets his coffee get cold and forgets to answer your text messages, even when you’re sat right across from him and you know that he can see the notification on his laptop. Work Jungkook refuses to turn in anything that he hasn’t devoted his entire being to, even if it’s something as simple as a discussion board post. Some of his other friends say that when Jungkook is in Work Jungkook Mode, they won’t even try to contact him, lest their messages get lost in the flurry of his coding assignments. 

But you are not “some of his other friends.” You are his best friend. So rules do not apply to you. And Jungkook has long accepted that fact.

“Hey, don’t mess up my work—” You exclaim defensively, grabby hands reaching over the table to retrieve your notebook. “Wait, how did you do that?”

Jungkook scribbles something down in nearly-illegible font, determined to solve the problem in front of him. He thinks for a few more seconds before eventually jotting down an answer, circling it with his pencil. Holding the notebook out so both of you can see, he scoots his chair over to your side of the table, your shoulders pressed together in this tiny corner of the Starbucks, right by the bathroom, and explains, step by step, what he did. 

He does that for the following two problems in your set, walking you through the kind of math he was doing in freshman year of high school like it’s nothing, answering all of your stupid questions and giving you tips on how to finesse the system by taking as many shortcuts as possible. Teaching you things you never learned, or possibly had just forgotten. Things that a professor would think is idiotic to re-teach to a junior in university. Things that Jungkook wants you to know because he just wants you to have a little more faith in yourself. 

“Does that help?” He asks when he’s finished, still doubting his fantastic teaching abilities despite the fact that he just taught you more in the last thirty minutes than your professor has managed in a month and a half. 

“It actually does,” you tell him, pleasantly surprised. Looking back down at your notebook, what was once a shapeless blur of numbers, letters, and formulas is suddenly a clear and organized outline of each and every step to follow. “I didn’t know it was that easy.”

“Anything can be easy if you just commit yourself to learning how to do it,” Jungkook says, one of those random sentences that are too wise for a college student surviving off of RedBull and Starbucks food, the ones that always make you think Jungkook is secretly an immortal sage with life experiences far beyond your own. “Except coding. Which is hard no matter how good you are at it.”

“Aw, you can do it,” you rally, reaching up to pinch his chin in between your fingers and squeeze it tight. “It’s also too late to change your major now, so you’re stuck.”

“Wow, thanks for the encouragement,” Jungkook chides, hand coming up to rub at where you held his jaw, rolling his eyes. “You should let me help you with your Astronomy work more often. Gives me a break from Python.”

“I would have made you help me whether you liked it or not,” you tell him pointedly, because he is your best friend and he doesn’t get out of things as easily as he thinks he can. “But thanks. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

“Of course,” Jungkook says with a good-natured grin, always so selfless and kind and giving. He practically signed himself up for a semester’s worth of TA-ing for Introduction to Astronomy despite the constant mountain of work he has himself. Just because it’s you. 

“My very own personal genius,” you muse, wrapping your hands around his arm and snuggling into his body, a whisper of a language only the two of you share. It’s something the two of you have long gotten used to, pressing your fingers all over each other’s bodies like it’s second nature. One of the things that makes you feel so certain about having Jungkook in your life. About wanting him to stay with you for the rest of time. “I’m never letting you go.”

Jungkook smiles, a warm hand coming to rest atop of your own. He breathes, in and out, chest rising beneath your touch. “Like I’d ever let you,” he says.

There is no question about it. Jungkook is one hundred percent, absolutely, undoubtedly, positively, indisputably smarter than you are. It’s something that the two of you used to jokingly fight about (because Jungkook claims that he’s a bad essay writer, even though he’s not), but at this point it’s cemented in stone—he’s a damn genius. A genius who is inexplicably good at everything. A double threat. Triple, if you count the fact that he’s built beyond belief and could probably chuck you into next week if you really, really ticked him off. 

The truth is that, ninety percent of the time it is you who is going to Jungkook for help. Whether it be an assignment you need assistance on (namely Astronomy, because Jungkook probably couldn’t help you on your Mesopotamian artifact and primary source analyses despite his best intentions), a date that was a lot worse than you were hoping it would be, or even just the right coffee to order from that expensive place on the corner. Jungkook knows how to fix everything. 

So when Jungkook slides into the seat across from you in the food court after his Mastering Photography class with that I’m in trouble look on his face, you know something is horribly wrong. 

“Are you alright?” You ask, concerned as you watch him devour the sushi takeout in front of him, stuffing the spicy tuna rolls into his mouth like they’re Skittles. His camera hangs haphazardly out of his open backpack, like he barely had enough time to stuff it into the pocket while he was making his way here. There’s a worried expression written all over his face as he fumbles with the chopsticks in his hand, losing his grip on them every ten seconds. 

It’s not until Jungkook has finished the container of spicy tuna rolls in front of them that he finally seems to work up the courage to answer you. 

“My Photography class is gonna be the death of me,” Jungkook exclaims, exasperated. 

“I thought you liked it,” you comment unhelpfully. Jungkook had been so excited to be enrolled in it, because you needed a recommendation from a different professor and you had to submit a portfolio in order to join the class, making it one of those exclusive (and thus, much better) courses. Not to mention the fact that Jungkook is basically already a professional photographer if his Instagram is anything to go by. He’s going to walk out of university with a Photography minor whether he realizes it or not.

“I do,” Jungkook insists, even if right now it sounds like the two of you both need convincing of that fact. “But this project is ridiculous. I don’t even know how my professor expects us to have the time to finish it.”

“What do you have to do?”

Jungkook sighs. Just thinking about it seems to stress him out. “I mean, it’s only really a week long. So I guess it’s not too bad. But we’re supposed to compile a portfolio of the same subject, taken over the course of the week, with them in all sorts of different poses and lighting and locations, to express a personal theme.”

You scrunch your nose up in confusion. “I might be wrong, but isn’t that what photography… is?” You ask cluelessly. 

“Yes,” Jungkook argues, “but also no. Photography is taking pictures of things just for the hell of it. Not because they necessarily speak to a part of your soul. You just like the look of it. You want to capture the scene. That’s it.”

“Oh,” You say dumbly. 

“And our subject can be whoever or whatever we want, but he recommended choosing a person because taking pictures of our water bottles in different places is boring,” Jungkook huffs, though his professor does have a point there. Modern history wasn’t made out of photographs of store windows and miscellaneous items. It was made out of people, out of events in their lives that shaped the rest of the world, out of personal experiences that changed their point of view. “But I don’t even know anybody who would be willing to let me photograph them for a whole week! I’d basically have to follow them around like paparazzi!”

“I’ll do it,” you suggest casually, because it seems like the most obvious choice to you. There’s no one Jungkook spends as much time with as you. 

Jungkook’s eyes pop out of his head. “What?”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “Think about it. You need a subject for your project that you can photograph in a wide variety of places and over the course of a week. Who else do you spend that much time with, other than me?”

“Well..” Jungkook begins, trying to fight your reasons with his own. “Would you even be comfortable with something like that? I mean, I’m literally going to constantly be taking photos of you.”

“Like we don’t already do that on our phones,” you tease, having amassed quite the album of terrible Jungkook pictures over the years. 

“A camera is different from a phone,” Jungkook protests weakly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m just saying. It won’t bother me,” you say with a shrug. Why is Jungkook being so… weird about your suggestion? You thought he would be jumping at the offer, especially considering it means he won’t have to go out of his way to find and photograph someone else for this assignment. But he’s being rather hesitant. You watch as he glares down at his empty sushi takeout box, eyebrows furrowed in that thick, nervous way. “But you don’t have to,” you backtrack. “It was just a suggestion.”

He breathes in and breathes out, expression solid. Even from here you can see the cogs whirring in his brain, placing each and every potential result into a pro and con list inside his mind, trying to work out whether the benefits will be greater than the cost. 

Quite frankly, you don’t know what all the holdup is about. 

“You’re… sure about this?” He asks, looking up at you, determined to ensure your comfort. As if that’s even an issue. “You’re cool with being photographed and everything?”

“Only because it’s you,” you tease lightheartedly, expecting some sort of equally cheesy response. Instead, it makes Jungkook do something weird. He freezes in place, darting his eyes away from your gaze for a split second, collecting thoughts you can’t see. “Yeah,” you say loudly, trying to bring him back. “I’m fine with it.”

He inhales, exhales, closes his eyes, and opens them. “Okay then. I guess it’s settled. You’ll be my subject,” he declares, an almost unnoticeable wobble to his voice. It’s probably nothing, so you don’t think too hard about it.

“Can you at least pretend to be a little more excited about this?” You ask, jabbing him in the chest with a wooden chopstick. “It’s the first time we’ve ever gotten to be part of a project together!”

“Yay,” Jungkook says, lifeless. 

“How about a photo to commemorate it?” You suggest, reaching over to pull the camera out of his backpack, pushing it into his hands. “This can be the start of your portfolio.”

“Fine,” he eventually caves, bringing it up to his eye as he turns it on, twisting the lens to perfect the focus. Even caught off guard like this, he looks like a professional, like someone who was born to be behind the camera. He’s a computer science major but you know that photography will always be something special to him.

You strike a dramatic pose, holding your chopsticks out, one in each hand, with a wide, excited smile on your face. “How do I look?” You ask, scrunching your eyes together. 

Jungkook’s finger hovers over the silver button. “Perfect,” he tells you, voice soft and honest. 

Click.

“So, how many photos are you supposed to take for this portfolio?” You ask as you flop around on Jungkook’s bed, pretending that the open tab on your laptop with your fifty-page reading doesn’t exist. You don’t even know why professors assign readings that long. Do they really expect you to read all of it?

From across his room, you can make out the top of Jungkook’s fluffy brown hair over his sleek gaming chair, one of the ones that look like high-tech airplane seats. “I don’t know,” he says. “He said at least twenty. And no more than fifty. Which really makes me wonder if someone once submitted like, one hundred photos for this project that he had to grade them on. But yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you say. When you’re around a cute animal, you can easily take twenty photographs. Granted, they aren’t exactly award-worthy photographs, but it’s not a physically demanding task. 

“Yeah,” Jungkook says. “Hypothetically you could finish it in a day. But it looks really obvious.”

“Well, how many do you have now?”

It’s been a day and a half since Jungkook agreed to let you be his so-called muse, but already you’ve lost track of how many photos he’s taken of you. He loves his camera, you know that, but you didn’t realize exactly how much he loves his camera. And with you as the sole subject for his project, he’s practically letting it hang from his neck all day long, just waiting for the right time to snap a photo of you standing in line at the food court, frowning at your textbook, or waiting to meet up with him. Every time he sees you he snaps a picture, even if the lighting’s bad, even if you haven’t had your morning coffee yet, even if it’s midnight and you look like a zombie. In his mind, there are no bad pictures. Just memories.

You wonder what the hell he sees in you. 

“A lot,” Jungkook answers unhelpfully, making no effort to elaborate on that statement. 

“Have you counted?” You ask, getting off of his bed to join him at his desk. 

Jungkook doesn’t seem to realize what you’re doing until you’re standing right next to him, placing a hand over his shoulders as you lean down next to him. He fumbles around for a second, the mouse slipping through his grip, and you catch a glimpse of one of the photos he’s taken of you, a sliver of your pursed lips, the wrinkles between your eyebrows. 

It’s from the library yesterday. You didn’t even know Jungkook had taken a picture of you there. You had a stupid reading to complete last night, one that made no sense and was terribly-written, and you spent an hour just trying to figure out what the damn argument was, and Jungkook captured it. You were there for an hour and Jungkook was there too, watching you like it was nothing, waiting for the perfect moment. He was there, sitting across from you, camera at the ready. You didn’t even hear it click. 

He closes it before you get a closer look at the photo, frantically hitting the little red dot at the top corner of the window before you have a chance to ask why. 

“What, I’m not allowed to see?” You chide, a little bit hurt but more confused than anything else. Why is Jungkook being so secretive?

“No,” Jungkook spits quickly. making you raise an eyebrow in alarm. “I mean, it’s a surprise. You get to see when it’s finished. I still have to… uh, edit. And stuff.”

“Edit? You think I’m that ugly?” You tease, knowing that he probably means color correction but enjoying the way that he gets all flustered when he hears your voice.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at that, like he just realized he made a wrong turn and is desperately backtracking. “What, no! I don’t—I don’t think you’re ugly.”

You laugh, letting the sound of your voice ease the tension in his shoulders, reveling in the way his big doe eyes seem to soften when he realizes you were just teasing. He looks like a kid caught stealing a candy bar from a gas station, looks like one of those boyfriends in the viral videos where the girl reveals that she got him a present or something instead, all nervous and full of explanations. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” you assure him, rubbing up and down his arm to soothe him, calm his heart down. “You don’t have to show me. I’m just excited. No one’s ever taken photos of me like this before.”

“I would,” Jungkook speaks up softly. “If you asked. I would.”

“I know,” You say. You’re not sure if there’s a thing in this world Jungkook wouldn’t do for you, and you, him. If he asked, you would pluck the stars from the sky for him. Bring him back a piece of the moon. Stop time. Anything. Everything. Just for him. “I know.”

 “What are you doing?” Jungkook asks, changing the topic as he whirls around in his gaming chair. 

“Just another reading, like always,” you dismiss, because you’re positive the last thing Jungkook wants to hear about right now is your primary source reading on irrigation techniques in agrarian Europe. You don’t even want to hear about it. “But I could use some help on Astronomy.”

Without another word, Jungkook gets up from his desk and the two of you head over to his bed, where an untouched problem set waits on your computer. He grabs a notebook from his backpack along the way before sitting down next to you on the edge of his bed, bodies pressed together. Slowly, he begins to coach you through each problem, step by step, drawing pictures and diagrams if he has to, until you finish all ten problems. 

The truth is, you didn’t really need help with this unit. Astronomy’s gotten a lot easier now that Jungkook has taught you the strategies to tackle it. But Jungkook sometimes feels like a ghost when he works, especially when he’s sitting at his desk, quiet and focused and almost invisible. And call you clingy, but you like it when you can look up and see his face instead of the back of a chair, a little tuft of wavy brown hair. You like it when he’s right beside you, in a place where you know you won’t lose him, where you can hold on if things get rough. Where you can see his stupid brown eyes and his goofy smile and know that he’ll always be there for you. 

When he’s finished, Jungkook doesn’t get back up to sit at his desk. He flops down on his back, staring up at the white ceiling of his room, eyes tracing the cracks. You join him, side by side, pretending that there’s something there. Looking up at the sky would be nicer, but it doesn’t really matter, so long as you’re with him.

“I didn’t know you took so many photos,” you say.

“I never want to miss anything.”

“You should give me more warnings, next time. I feel like I look so ugly in some of them.”

“No, you don’t. Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You don’t think I’m ugly?” You ask him, for real this time. It’s not that you think he’s going to say that he does, it’s that you want to know what he really thinks. How he really sees you. You turn your head to him, back pressed against his comforter, barely a foot apart. And he turns back to you, and he’s right there, right there in front of you, big brown eyes wide and blinking. He’s right there, how could you miss him?

“No,” Jungkook says, honest and true. He looks at you, looks right at you, right into you, and he muses to himself, chuckling. “Why would I ever think that?”

At the end of the day, you can’t really be bothered to put on real pants in anticipation of Jungkook’s trigger-happy camera-taking tendencies. He’s seen you spill a boiling hot bowl of tomato soup all over yourself in the dining hall. He’s seen you at four in the morning in the library the night before finals begin, eyebags down to your knees and mismatched shoes on your feet. He’s seen you in the middle of a frat house, sweat dripping down your forehead and smelling of nothing but straight alcohol. Getting dressed up just for him would be antithetical to the very foundation of your friendship. 

You have, however, become keenly more cognizant in the last few days of when Jungkook is about to take a photo of you. Mostly because you glance up at your surroundings every three seconds to make sure you aren’t getting sniped from across the food court. Nobody else needs to see a picture of you picking up three pieces of sushi with your chopsticks and stuffing them all into your mouth at once. And, from what you can tell, you’ve been pretty successful, which either means you’ve gotten better at telling when Jungkook might be taking a photo of you, or Jungkook’s gotten better at hiding it. 

Either way, he’s got a lot more pictures of you reflexively flashing a peace-sign in his direction when you hear the telltale sound of his camera lens focusing, so you’re not really sure what that means for the fate of his portfolio. 

Besides your newfound hyper-awareness of the sound of a camera lens adjusting, the strangest part of you and Jungkook’s little project is how quickly the rest of your friends adjusted to this brand new dynamic. 

This is not to say this assignment is the weirdest thing you and Jungkook have done together, because there was once one week where you and Jungkook challenged each other to only eat bananas for every meal to see if anything would happen to either of you. Nothing did, but after that week you swore off bananas for the rest of your life and have had little appetite for them since. 

It’s more that your other friends have just accepted the fact that ridiculous, extravagant shenanigans are a necessary part of you and Jungkook’s relationship and have simply chosen not to question them anymore. At least, most of them have. 

“So, how’s you and Jungkook’s little photography fling going?” Maisie asks, and even through the phone you can hear the way she’s wiggling her eyebrows. 

“It’s not a fling, and it’s fine,” you hiss back, trying to keep your voice down as you pack up your belongings, phone pressed between your ear and your shoulder. “Stop speaking so loudly, everyone else in the library can probably hear you.”

“Good, because they’ve all probably noticed the way Jungkook’s been following you around like an unrestrained fanboy for the past four days taking pictures of you,” Maisie says pointedly, voice so sharp it causes you to look around at the other tables to make sure no one’s listening in. 

You frown, hoping your deadpan expression is audible through the phone. “It’s not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t you think it’s even a little strange that you’ve given Jungkook full permission to take photos of you like you’re a model and he’s some sort of weird, professional paparazzi?” You can practically see Maisie’s face in front of you, all wide eyes and raised eyebrows as she makes her point.

“No, it’s what we agreed on,” you remind her for the umpteenth time. There’s nothing weird about this. You’re helping him with a project, what more could it be? “Jungkook needed someone to take pictures of for his photography project and I thought it would be a good idea if I was that someone.”

“Hmm… wonder why…” Maisie trails off, deliberately vague and suggestive all at once. 

“You’ve been going on about this ever since Jungkook and I met, Maise,” you say with a roll of your eyes, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “You know that Jungkook and I are just friends. Like we have always been.”

“Friends that take candid photos of each other under the guise of a project,” Maisie adds, and you can see the air quotes around the word “project” right in front of you.

“Friends that help each other out because that’s what friends do,” you correct. “You’re just going to have to accept the fact that Jungkook and I are always going to be just friends and nothing more. No matter how much money you’ve bet on us getting together.”

Maisie gasps. “I have not bet money on such a thing! This is slander!”

“Don’t think I don’t see you and Jimin’s damn Venmo history.” You pull up to the front desk of the library to check out a primary source book needed for one of your classes. It’s the first edition, and it’s battered beyond belief, but it’s better than paying for it. “Just this, thanks.”

“The only way you could convince me that you and Jungkook are just friends is if you go on a date or something,” Maisie comments snidely. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you romantically interested in someone else the entire time you’ve known each other. Isn’t that proof enough?”

“You want me to go on a date with someone?” You demand, determined to get Maisie to hop off your ass about this. 

You and Jungkook are just friends. If swiping right with someone on Tinder and getting dinner and a movie with them is what will convince Maisie of that, then that is what you will do. It’s not as if being friends with Jungkook is mutually exclusive with you going out with other people. Should be easy, right? 

The boy behind the counter tells you your book is due back at the end of the semester, and you nod your thanks before heading out of the library.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with someone. If it’ll get you to stop trying to convince me that Jungkook and I are gonna get married and have babies,” you declare, pushing your body against the door handles as you leave, five minutes to spare before your next class begins. 

“You guys would have really cute babies, I’m just saying,” Maisie points out like it’s nothing. 

You roll your eyes, taking the phone away from your ear as your finger hovers over the red button. “See you, Maise.”

You’re barely three steps out of the library, still rolling your eyes at the Call Ended screen on your phone when a voice catches your attention. 

“Y/N!”

You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook’s devilish grin disappear behind his camera, and you don’t even have time to blink before he begins snapping away, finger mashing the silver button at the top as your expression morphs from surprise to defeat, unable to counter his sniping abilities with a signature peace sign. Even from twenty feet away, you can hear Jungkook laughing as you take the opportunity to pose for a few moments, like you really are a model and he really is your personal photographer. The sound of his giggles fills the air, music to your ears, lingering between you like dandelion wisps, blown by the wind. 

Another voice breaks you from your trance. 

“And here we have our resident celebrity and her paparazzi,” Jimin says, motioning to the two of you as he speaks to an enormous tour group of potential applicants and their parents. Caught in front of them, the heat suddenly rushes to your cheeks as you instinctively cover your face, embarrassed to have been pointed out by Jimin, whose amicable, lovable personality is both a blessing and a curse when it comes to his part-time job as a tour guide. 

The worst part is how some of the parents and students seem to believe him for a second, that you really are famous and that Jungkook really is your photographer, looking at the two of you inquisitively as you shrink beneath their gazes. 

“I’m kidding,” Jimin quickly continues as Jungkook joins you where you stand, laughing at the way you look like a deer caught in headlights. “They’re just some friends of mine who we happened to catch outside the library, which is our next stop. But don’t they look so cute together?”

“Are you guys dating?” One of the students pipes up, asking what no one else dared to. 

Your eyes widen at the notion, wondering if you and Jungkook really are cursed to always be mistaken for a couple when you two have never been, and most likely will never be one. Shaking your head, you force out a laugh, “No, we’re just friends.” Beside you, Jungkook is noticeably silent. You suppose he’s gotten just as sick of explaining as you. 

“Bummer, right?” Jimin asks his group, earning a couple of disappointed nods from innocent high-schoolers that still believe in love. “But I’m working on that, so don’t worry. Anyway, this library will be your main destination for studying, book-reading, and everything in between, and is conveniently located two minutes away from the freshman dorms…”

The conversation finally drawn away from you and Jungkook, you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you had been holding in. “Weird, right? Even high-schoolers think we’re together.”

Jungkook doesn’t meet your eyes, fiddling with the settings on his camera just to keep his hands busy. The quiet makes you wonder what is going on up inside his head, makes you wonder what it is he’s thinking about, what it is you’re not seeing. Lately, it’s felt like there’s something on Jungkook’s mind you wish he felt comfortable telling you. 

“Hey, you alright?” You ask, giving him a little nudge with your side. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” Jungkook says, voice soft, barely audible. It doesn’t make you feel any better. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Don’t you have class soon?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right, fuck,” you say, checking your phone only to find you have barely a minute to get to your next class. Guess you’ll be using one of your allotted absences today. “Thanks for reminding me. Dinner tonight?”

“I’ll text you,” Jungkook promises, and you nod your agreement as you dash off, determined to turn a five-minute walk into a one-minute one with the power of exercise. As you leave, you watch as Jungkook flounders outside the library, staring down at his camera and scrolling through his photos, and you still find yourself feeling like you’re missing something. What is Jungkook not telling you? 

What do you not know?

By the time you reach your class, two minutes late and completely out of breath, tardiness is the last thing on your mind.

This project was just meant to be a friend helping out a friend. So why does it feel like you and Jungkook are losing each other?

Using Tinder is easy. Dangerously so.

You’re no expert in app design, but its simplified “yes or no” mechanic has you swiping through people like it’s an extreme sport, barely giving some of them a second glance if their Tinder profile description doesn’t make you laugh within the first sentence. 

Tinder was, admittedly, not your first choice of potential date-finding methods. Call you old-fashioned, but whatever happened to asking someone in person if they wanted to get a meal with you? To showing up at their doorstep with a rose bouquet and a toothy white grin? Perhaps all of those old-timey movies you and Jungkook always watched have given you unrealistic expectations. But can you blame them? 

Even if Tinder wasn’t your first choice, it was certainly the fastest. It takes a second to look at someone’s designated Tinder thumbnail, two to read their description, and three to decide if they’re worth a swipe right. Compare that to actively meeting up with someone, getting their contact information, and then continuing to dance around each other until you finally decide to get dinner together. That’s the sort of thing that could take weeks. Maybe months. And in some cases, years.

Besides, it’s not like you had very many options at your disposal. You don’t trust Maisie to set you up with someone because she’ll probably just choose one of the many boys from her management class and call it a day. Asking someone yourself is absolutely out of the question. And, for some strange, unknown reason, the idea of getting Jungkook to hook you up with one of his friends just doesn’t sit right with you.

So, Tinder it is. And as it turns out, chivalry isn’t dead. It’s just archaic.

An hour into your mindless swiping, you get a message notification. Two hours after that, you’ve got plans with a nice senior boy whom you’ve never met. 

And for the first time in a very long time, there’s something to mark on your calendar for Saturday night.

The little blue block on your Google Calendar tab stares back at you from where your open laptop sits on your desk, the red line that signifies your current time slowly inching towards it as you fumble around in front of your mirror, more dressed up than you have been in weeks. Maisie was right. It’s been so long since you’ve gone out with someone that you’ve completely forgotten what the dress code is for something like this. A dress? Heels? Makeup?

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you will anyway. What if he’s wearing a hoodie and sweats while you look like you’re about to attend the goddamn Academy Awards? Maybe the eyeshadow was a little too much.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks it’s inevitable that you do. The door to your apartment swings open, and you can hear heavy footsteps making their way to your bedroom, that easy gait of his familiar as always.

“Hey, do you think we can just get some take-out and watch a stupid old noir movie, or something? I’ve had a day,” he shouts out, the sigh audible in his voice.

You don’t want to overshoot it, but part of you thinks you definitely have when you turn around to see Jungkook standing right outside your bedroom in the floppiest sweater you’ve ever seen and jeans with holes in the knees, mouth agape as he stares straight at you. It’s impossible not to notice the way his eyes are blown wide at the sight of you, at the way they rake up and down your figure, like he can’t even believe what he’s seeing. It’s impossible not to notice how he seems to flounder at the sight of you.

The only thing that breaks the both of you out of your stupors, frozen in place like two criminals caught red-handed, is the sound of his hulking black backpack thudding to the floor. 

“Whoa.”

“Do you think it’s too much?” You ask, voice wobbly. God, why are you so nervous? It’s just Jungkook. 

“Too much for what?” Jungkook blinks, deliberate and slow, as if he’s determined to make sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him. “Where are you going?”

“I think we’ll have to do a raincheck for the noir movie and takeout,” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips together in fright as you force out a small, tense smile. “I’m… going out. With someone.”

“Like,” Jungkook begins, and even from here you can hear the way he stops himself, hear him breathe out every word, thick on his tongue. “On a date?”

“Yeah.”

It’s a one-syllable word and yet it takes nearly all of your willpower just to say it. Just to confirm what Jungkook’s already thinking. Just to tell him, your best friend, your ride or die, your number one, that you’re going out on a date. 

“Oh.” Jungkook’s voice is lifeless. “Do I know them?”

“No, uh, it’s just some guy I met on Tinder. I don’t know, I just wanted to see what all the hype was about, I guess. And I haven’t really been on a date in a while, so I figured I might just take up the opportunity, so we’re probably just going to go out to a restaurant and maybe go to a club afterwards if we’re still in the mood, and—” You cut yourself off, so nervous that you’ve resorted to your terrible habit of rambling to try and ease the tension. “Why? Do you think it’s too much?”

“You use Tinder?” Jungkook asks instead. It sounds like he’s shocked to hear this. 

“Yeah…” you trail off. “Why?”

Jungkook freezes at the question, but it’s not because it seems like he doesn’t have an answer. It’s because it seems like he does. Only it’s an answer he doesn’t want to share. 

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he eventually settles on, shaking his head. “You, uh, you look good.”

“You think? I feel like it’s a lot. I don’t know how to dress appropriately for stuff like this anymore,” you ask, palms sweaty as you furiously straighten out the skirt of your dress. “Should I change into pants, or anything?”

“No, no, I think that’s fine,” Jungkook says with an honest smile. “You look nice like this.”

“It’s probably been like, a year since you last saw me in a dress,” you comment mindlessly, turning back to face the mirror as you fiddle with your makeup, finger wiping away a bit of smudged lipstick or a stray bit of mascara. “I miss my sweats. Hey, whoa, wait, what are you doing—?”

You whip around to find Jungkook slowly fishing out the camera from his backpack, hand gripping it tightly as he brandishes it in front of you. 

“I, um, I just wanted to see if I could maybe take a photo of you,” Jungkook says, a small, little grin decorating his features. “Since you’re all dressed up.”

“Seriously?” You ask in disbelief. 

Jungkook nods, holding the camera out in front of him. “Just one.”

He looks so small, standing across your bedroom. He looks so small and delicate and intimate, body curled in on itself ever so slightly as he looks at you, the yellow glow of your ceiling light reflected in his hazelnut eyes, drowning beneath his clothes. He looks like he has never seen a moment more perfect, never seen an opportunity as clear, looks like he thinks that if he blinks he’ll miss it. 

Looks as if a photo will be the only way to remember it. 

And you nod. Because he is your best friend, and who are you to deny him of something so simple? Of a press of a button? It doesn’t feel like a project anymore. It just feels like a memory. 

Jungkook brings the camera to his eye, and you smile at him, soft and gentle and warm. He grins back, focusing the camera lens before snapping away. 

You wonder what he sees. 

(You wonder if it’s as beautiful as what you see.)

“Have fun tonight, okay?” Jungkook asks of you as your Google Calendar notification sounds, letting you know you have approximately two minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up outside your apartment.

You nod. “I will. And if I don’t, then I’ll come over afterwards. And we can watch that stupid noir film.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes, a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But I want to. So I will. Okay? I’ll text you,” you promise. “Don’t think I’ll forget about you.”

Jungkook smiles at your little tease, at the way you cup the side of his jaw with your hand as you head towards your front door. 

“Wait, Y/N,” Jungkook sputters out, running after you. He reaches you right as you get to the door, hand grasping the doorknob. You turn to look at him, blinking. “I hope tonight is everything you dreamed of.”

There is something so distinctly sad in his voice. It makes you wonder who has broken his heart. Makes you wonder what you can do to fix it.

“Even if it’s not,” you say to him, taking his hand in your own and squeezing it tight, reminding him that, no matter what, you’re still here. “I know you’ll always be there to take care of me afterwards.”

Your phone buzzes with a message from your date, and you scurry out the door. 

For some reason, there’s a part of you that wishes you never even left. 

The date is okay. Not bad, but nothing to write home about. By the time you finished eating, it was obvious neither of you had any interest in continuing the night elsewhere, whether it be a club or a karaoke bar. He pays for your meal despite your insistence that you can handle the check perfectly fine on your own, thanks you for a nice night, and drops you right back at your apartment. And so goes your one and only Tinder experience, blowing away like a leaf in the wind. 

You look down at your phone. It isn’t even nine o’clock yet. 

[November 7th, 8:48PM]

You: you still game for that movie?

[November 7th, 8:50PM]

Jungkook: you finished your date already?

You: is that a yes or a no

Jungkook: my door is always open, you know that

You: you’re gonna get robbed one day and it’s gonna be by me You: i’m coming over

The walk from your apartment to Jungkook’s is six minutes and thirty seconds on a good day, and seven minutes and fifteen seconds on a bad day, which is usually dependent on if the traffic light over the main road has decided to be extra slow or not. You could walk the damn route in your sleep if you really wanted, having done it so many times in the last year and a half, ever since he moved out of on-campus housing and into his own place.

Tonight, it takes you nearly eight minutes to get to his apartment, but you mostly chalk that up to the heels you’re wearing. If you cared any less about your dignity, you’d probably take them off and walk barefoot like a defeated heroine in a romance movie, shoes dangling from your fingers as they hang low by your side. 

But you aren’t defeated. You didn’t have the world’s most spectacular date, but the night isn’t over just yet. 

Jungkook’s waiting at his front door by the time you arrive. 

“Eight minutes, huh? You’re getting old,” he asks snidely, looking down at the invisible watch on his wrist. 

“Your counting is just off,” you retort easily, falling into that same friendly rhythm, that familiar little beat that the two of you share. You push past him and into his apartment, instantly feeling more at home, shoulders sinking and heartbeat soothing as you soak in the scent of his room, of his home, of him. 

“How’d it go?” Jungkook asks, eyes hopeful as they watch you tug off your heels. They were hardly three inches tall and yet you still want nothing to do with them. 

You shrug. “Eh. It was okay.”

“Just okay?” Jungkook asks, sounding seriously upset for you. Upset that you didn’t have a good night even after you promised him that you would. Upset that it didn’t turn out to be everything you wanted. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, looking over at him, dejected. “It just—I just had this feeling that it wasn’t going to work out.”

Jungkook scowls to himself, eyebrows furrowing like he’s trying to figure out what exactly you mean by that. And the truth is, you’re not sure either. The date was fine, and he was nice, but even when you first met it felt like you weren’t going to get what you wanted from him. Like you were just going on the date to go on the date. Like you already knew that it would mean nothing. 

Jungkook was going to be waiting for you at the end of the night whether it went amazingly well or terribly bad. And knowing that, strangely enough, almost made you want the date to be horrible. Like it would make seeing Jungkook afterwards that much sweeter. 

“Oh,” Jungkook says lamely. “Well, I’m sorry. It seemed like you were really looking forward to it.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him. “Can we just watch this movie now and make fun of how sexist it is? Please?”

To that, Jungkook easily agrees. As he’s queueing up the movie, you raid his closet for a hoodie and sweatpants, desperate to strip yourself of your dress and tights and cozy up in clothes that are much more appropriate for your comfort level. At this point in your friendship, Jungkook doesn’t even question it when he sees you march into his room, fishing through his closet and drawers for your favorite matching set of his, this grey pair that he’s worn so much it still smells like him even after it’s come right out of the wash. 

He only stares back in awe when he sees you emerge from his bedroom wearing them. 

“Ready?” You ask, breaking him from his resolve.

Jungkook blinks wildly from where he’s seated on his dinky old couch, as if to clear his vision. “What? Oh, yeah, I’ve been waiting for you.”

“Then hurry it up, Mister,” you demand, sitting down next to him and curling into his body. It’s instinctual, at this point, wanting to be close to him. To feel the warmth of his body radiate upon your own. To feel his chest beneath the palm of your hands, his arm wrapped around your side. “All good?” You ask, looking up at him. 

Jungkook looks down at you, and you swear, you’ve never seen him more at home. “Always, when I’m with you.”

The movie is predictably good and predictably sexist, but your favorite part by far is when Jungkook reaches around on the coffee table in front of you for his camera, holding it up to his eye and snatching a picture of the television, the film grainy like an old polaroid, faded like an antique photograph. He clicks away at the scene in front of him before turning on you, the lens so close to your face you’re almost certain all he’ll manage to capture is your nose. You laugh, pushing yourself away from him as he snaps, and snaps, and snaps, image after image after image, until his camera battery has died and there’s no more room left on his card. 

“Guess I’ll have to charge this thing, then,” Jungkook sighs as he declares his camera dead, screen black. 

“You aren’t going to include any of those, are you?” You ask, an eyebrow raised. 

Jungkook shrugs. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you have enough?” You deadpan, thinking back to the hundreds of photos Jungkook must have taken of you over the past week, and even more that you don’t know about. There’s certainly no shortage of them in his current camera inventory. That’s for sure. 

“Never,” Jungkook says wickedly. He stretches out an open arm, and you don’t have to think twice about falling into it, letting him wrap you up in his hold, curling into his body. 

The black television screen crackles before you, DVD player waiting for Jungkook to turn it off. There’s no need for either of you to look up at each other. Not when you’re strung together like this. Not when you already know exactly where he is. 

“It’s due on Monday, right?” You inquire softly, fatigue slowly overtaking you. 

“Yeah. I’m almost finished, just have to do some curating and editing.”

“I want to see it.”

“What? My project?”

“What else?”

“It’s just a project, it’s not that exciting.”

You pull away from him at that, looking up at him with furrowed brows and scrunched-up nose. “What do you mean ‘it’s not that exciting’? It’s your photography project. You’ve spent a whole week working on it.”

“Yeah, but it’s just you, you know?” Jungkook objects. “Like, you know what you look like. It’s just going to be a bunch of photos of you, like I said it’d be.”

“That’s exactly why I want to see it,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You took pictures of me for a whole week. Don’t you want to share them with me?”

“If you really want some of the photos, I’ll send you some, but you don’t need to see the whole portfolio, you know? It’s just for my professor,” Jungkook says stiffly, surprisingly resistant. What’s the big deal? It’s not like there will suddenly be new information about you that you didn’t know before. You want to see what Jungkook has been working tirelessly on this entire week. Where’s the harm in that?

“Why are you getting so hung up on this? It’s just photos,” you say with a frown. 

“Why are you getting so hung up on this?” Jungkook challenges back. 

You sigh, sinking back into him, defeated. Even a little disagreement like that is enough to knock the wind out of the both of you, so you decide not to push it much further. 

“Do you promise to show me eventually?” You ask, hopeful.

Jungkook pauses for a moment, and you almost expect him to say no, considering how protective of his work he’s being. “One day,” he declares. “One day, I will.”

And that’s good enough for you. 

You lose track of how much time passes after that, feeling your eyelids getting heavy as the warmth of his body envelopes you, drowsiness settling in. There’s just something about this moment, right here, right now, that makes you want to fall asleep.

You’re on the verge of slumber when Jungkook’s voice breaks through.

“Why didn’t you think your date would work out?”

“I don’t know,” you respond sleepily, barely even opening your eyes. “It just felt wrong.”

“How do you know what feels right?”

Good question. Perhaps if you had the energy, you’d answer it. But right now, all you can think about is how cozy you feel in Jungkook’s hoodie and sweatpants, how the scent of him surrounds you, that indescribable, boyish aroma that can’t be replicated. Right now, all you can think about is how easily your body molds into his, like two pieces of a puzzle meant to fit together. Right now, all you can think about is him. 

The worst part about each and every week is when it ends. Because the end of one week signifies the beginning of the next, and when you’re in university, the beginning of the next week means a whole new batch of assignments that you have to complete and a whole new batch of due dates to meet. 

So, yeah. The weeks have been blurring together for you lately. But what else could you expect?

Sunday evening, as per usual, finds you right back where you always are: Jungkook’s apartment. 

The two of you have been regularly getting together on Sundays to study, ever since you both realized you work significantly harder when motivated by the other, determined to finish all of your work on time so you can spend the rest of the night fooling around by mixing Monster with as many unhealthy drinks that you can possibly think of. And it’s been working out well for the both of you so far. Jungkook powers through his coding assignments and you whiz through your readings, intent on keeping up to date with your tasks so they don’t all come crashing down on you at the end of the semester. 

Studying with Jungkook has always been easy, largely due to the fact that it’s the one allotted time during your friendship where the both of you deem it best to not speak to each other for the sake of your work. The moment one of you opens your mouth it’s over, so you sit on opposite ends of the room and pretend that the other person isn’t even there. 

Jungkook told you earlier today that he had already finished his photography portfolio, so there would unfortunately be no sneaky glances over his shoulder to see if you can catch a glimpse of one of the pictures. Which is fine by you, you’re just a little embarrassed that Jungkook had told you this outright. Not that you were planning to do exactly that, but you were planning to do exactly that. 

Part of you. more than anything, wants to know why Jungkook won’t just show you himself. Why he’s being so secretive, so protective of his photography project when you both know already exactly what’s in it. For God’s sake, he just spent the entire week taking photos of you non-stop. It’s like not as if any part of this is a mystery to either of you. What more could he have done?

Whatever. You aren’t going to force it if he doesn’t want you to. You suppose that maybe one day, far into the future, he’ll finally decide that the time is right. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” Jungkook declares lifelessly as he gets up from where he’s sitting on your bed, dead inside. “I need a break.”

“Are you going to the kitchen? Can you make me some tea, please?” You ask him, looking up from the laptop on your desk. 

Jungkook nods wordlessly before disappearing out of the room. 

You and Jungkook’s best study practice to maximize productivity is the taking of each other’s cell phones so that the other cannot be tempted to look at it. It’s worked plenty of times before and will probably work plenty of times again, because as they say, out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, it’s hard to pretend that your phone is out of sight when it’s been buzzing on your bedside table for the past five minutes, and your fingers have been itching to get over there and answer your damn notifications. So, while Jungkook is out of the room, you decide to cheat a little by dashing over there just to see what the heck is going on in the rest of the world. 

As it turns out, nothing much. Just Maisie texting you as she binges yet another television show, giving spoiler-free updates anytime anything remotely dramatic happens. You have a couple of new emails as well. 

The thing that actually catches your attention the most, is Jungkook’s laptop screen. 

There’s just a Word document open on it, but a Word document is a far cry from his usual coding program or Photoshop. Because you can’t help yourself, you peer over to see what he’s written. 

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Hard to say that I have. I don’t think I learned something about myself so much as I confirmed what I already knew, cementing it as a real thought in my brain, rather than just a daydream. Nothing changed in the way that my best friend and I interacted, and I can almost confirm that nothing changed in the way that she feels about me, just as nothing changed in the way I feel about her. I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her. 

What?

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Not as a reference but to remind myself of this very moment in my life—a single week over the course of my life that I felt was worth saving. I imagine that there will come a time, far in the future, where my best friend and I have separated a little bit, found our own lives and created our own families with our own people. And when that happens, I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

This feels personal. Maybe you should stop reading. But there’s just one more question left on the page… 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. If it meant getting to spend more time with her, take more photos of her, see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

“Y/N?”

You hadn’t even heard the kettle whistling. 

“Jungkook,” you say, breathless, caught red-handed. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, placing your steaming cup of tea down on the desk as he stares back at you in horror, in surprise, in worry, in something. Something that gives you this imminent sense of impending doom. 

“Uh—”

“Were you reading my computer screen?”

It’s not like you could say you were doing anything else. 

“I couldn’t help myself, I came over here to check my phone since it’s been buzzing like crazy and your computer was right there and I just…” you sputter out, thoughts swirling inside your head. 

(I will look back on this project to remind myself of who we used to be. How we used to feel about each other. Maybe, by that point in time, it won’t hurt as much as it does now. 

If it meant getting to see her smile once more, I would do it a thousand times over. 

I guess you could say I learned that I don’t think anything could ever change the way I feel about her.)

“What do you mean, how you feel about me?” You ask, because you can’t help yourself. Because the sound of his voices echoes in your head like the beat of a drum, over and over and over. Because you’re staring back at him and even if he just caught you snooping through his computer you can never be worried when it comes to him. Because everything he has ever done puts you at ease. 

“Y/N, that is private, why would you read something like that?” He asks, each word a sucker punch into your heart. 

“Because I just had to know, okay?” You shout back. “I had to know what you were hiding from me.”

“So you decided to snoop through my computer to see if you could figure it out yourself?” He demands, storming over to you. 

“So you are hiding something?”

“That’s not the point, the point is that—”

“What are you not telling me, Jungkook?” You cry out, watching as he approaches you, dark eyes piercing your gaze. “Why won’t you show me your goddamn portfolio? If there’s really nothing to be afraid of, why are you keeping it from me? I’m your best friend, I’m the fucking subject of your project? Don’t I deserve to see it? Why won’t you show me?”

“Because then you’d know!” Jungkook shouts back, leaving deafening silence in his wake. You look up at him, blinking. In front of you, Jungkook is out of breath, chest heaving. 

He looks so strained. So tired. Like he’s been carrying around this secret for months now, maybe even years, and this is the final straw. This is what has sent the both of you crashing down upon each other. This stupid fucking project. You’ve known Jungkook ever since the beginning of your freshman year, and never before have you seen him so hopeless. 

“Jungkook—?”

“You’d know, goddamnit,” Jungkook says, hand coming up to rub at his forehead, dragging down his cheek. “And I wasn’t sure if I was ready for that.”

“Know what? What would I know?” 

Jungkook closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. Opens them again. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words drift in between the two of you, hovering in the air like feathers. You see them, clear as day, in front of you, hear them echoing in your head, over and over and over again. Feel the way your blood is pumping, the way your heart is beating. 

“You’re in love with me?” You ask him. 

“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Jungkook admits. “Or at all, really. But I have been, for a while now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was afraid that I’d lose you.”

You chuckle, a small, little thing from the back of your throat. “You must have known I’d never let that happen, hmm?”

Jungkook smiles softly. “I was scared. Can you blame me? You’re my best friend.”

“And you are mine,” you remind him. 

“It’s just—” Jungkook begins, like the gates of a dam are opening up. “We’d known each other for so long, and we have such a good thing going as is, always texting and calling and hanging out together, studying together on Sunday nights and seeing each other during the week, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. And then my professor assigned this project, and the only person I could think of to take photos was you, but I didn’t want to ask that of you in case you thought it was weird, but you suggested it anyway so I said yes, but I knew. I knew then that the moment I took one goddamn photo of you it would be obvious, and that if you ever saw you would just know. Stuff like that is easy to pick up in pictures, because a camera is like, tunnel vision for whatever it is you want to focus on most, and that’s you, that’s always been you, so I—”

“Jungkook,” you interrupt, reaching out to him, pressing a soft hand to his cheek. “Just, shut up, okay?”

And then you cup his head in both of your hands, and press a kiss to his lips. A small one, if nothing else, but a kiss nonetheless. You press your lips against his own and immediately you feel the sparks rush through you, this flash of heat that settles into something softer, something sweeter. It ignites and soothes you all at once, like a stray lightning bolt out on the open ocean. Like a single clap of thunder and the pitter patter of rain. 

You press a kiss to his lips and when you pull away, Jungkook’s eyes are closed, lips parted ever so slightly. And for a moment there, you almost think you did the wrong thing. 

But barely a second more passes before he’s scooping you up in his arms and pulling you in close to him, his lips finding yours like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He holds you tight, hands pressed against the small of your back as he kisses you, warm and fiery and full, as if he can’t get enough, as if this is his only chance. You gasp into it before relaxing in his hold, cold hands on his warm cheeks, body melting at the feeling of him, of him all over you, of his hands and his mouth and his chest, this perfect, solid figure. 

He kisses you and it sends heat shooting through your body, filling you up from the inside out, like your heart has burst and filled your bloodstream with fire, with sparks of warmth that tingle all over. He kisses you, and everywhere his hands press is another sizzle to your skin, an electric shock that makes you giggle into his mouth. 

He kisses you and it feels like a storm has settled, feels like gentle rain after a hurricane, feels like waves crashing against the shore. He kisses you and it is the only thing you can think about. 

By the time you part once more, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook so blissed out. 

“See?” You point out softly. “Nothing to be afraid of.”

Jungkook looks positively dazed. “I think I need to lie down.”

“Ooh, was I that good?” You tease.

“I’m dreaming.” He shakes his head. “I’m definitely fucking dreaming.”

Jungkook sinks onto your bed, hitting the mattress with a thud. He stares mindlessly in front of him, like his brain needs time to process. 

You smile to yourself. He can have all the time in the world. 

“Is this real?” He mumbles when you sit down next to him, press another kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Are you real?”

“Just like you,” you promise him. “I didn’t know this is what we had been missing, all this time.”

“It wasn’t missing,” Jungkook assures you. “It was just hidden.”

“I love you,” you whisper, watching him swallow the words like a glass of wine. “I think I always have. You just needed to say it first.”

“Oblivious as always.” Jungkook grins, smiling against your lips. “But I’m glad. If this is what it would take, then I’m glad.”

“You wouldn’t change anything?” You ask him, eyes wide and curious. 

It’s hard to know how long you and Jungkook have been secretly pining over each other. Hard to know how long Jungkook has known that he’s loved you, how long it’s been since you started to feel the same, even if subconsciously. It’s hard to know how long you would have kept going if not for this project. It might have been months. Years. Years that Jungkook was willing to spend holding back, if only it meant keeping you by his side. 

“No,” Jungkook says like it’s the easiest answer in the world. “I have you now. Why would I?”

What did you learn about yourself through this assignment? How do you think you’ve changed?

Previously, I had responded to this question by saying that I hadn’t learned anything, and felt that nothing changed in my life. Then, some things happened. And after those things, I learned that I am the luckiest man alive. To know my best friend is one thing. To love her is a privilege. To have her love me back is nothing less than a miracle.

Do you think you’ll ever look back on this project, whether it be as a reference or a memory?

Yes. Every day for the rest of my life. I don’t think I’ve ever been as thankful to receive a homework assignment as I am, right now. I owe everything to this project. It is the reason I have her. 

This assignment forced you to create an entire portfolio, from scratch, using a subject you would have to regularly schedule time with. It was demanding. But, that said, would you ever do this again?

Yes. I want to take photos of her for the rest of my life. I want to save every memory we ever share together. So that far into the future, we can look back on them together and say, “Remember that?”

↳ links are broken, but don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[the-broken-truth]

Broken-Style Remix: Yandere Mother Talia Al Ghul

Broken: When it comes to Yandere Mothers, Talia Al Ghul is one of my favorites; considering how obsessed she is with her baby daddy. Recently, I came into a Yandere Talia Al Ghul Image made by @anxiousnerdwritings & with their permission, I have been allowed to make this Broken-Style Remix! Now, let the words weave together!!!

@anxiousnerdwritings's version: LINK

SUBTITLE: THE ONE YOU THREW AWAY

Talia Al Ghul wanted things thing and would do anything to obtain those things - Complete Control & Undeniable Power. She was the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul - The Head Demon of the League of Assassin & Immortal Mad-Man, well...not anymore; now Talia was on the Throne as Head of the League of Assassins, but there was a time before everything went to hell. Talia always wanted to have power but she also wanted someone to share it with - that came in the form of the Protector of Gotham - The Masked Savior, Batman. Talia was entranced by his power and skill, he would have been a perfect partner to rule with if he wasn't so hesitant to kill but she could sculpt him to fit her mold one way or another but first she needed to get him on her side. Her father thought of him as the perfect heir but there was no way the protector would join him, so Talia planned and that plan was to give herself and Bruce an heir - the perfect combination of the two of them. However, a wrench was thrown into that plan when inside of one - there were two.

A Son & A Daughter.

A Son that mirrored his father in young as he would in adulthood, with the exception of the emerald eyes that Talia possessed - the eyes of an Al Ghul. He was given the name Damian.

Her daughter was another story: she grew to look just as Talia did in her youth but she had her father's calm blue eyes - the eyes of a protector. The eyes of a Wayne. The eyes of a savior, not a killer - she was flawed with those eyes. She was named Bellatrix - just as her father, she would be expected to be a great warrior.

When it was time to hone their skills, it was clear that they were the perfect combination of the Al Ghul and Wayne Genes - Damian more. He was the perfect killer, merciless and quick; he wouldn't give his enemies time to speak. No, enemies were too kind of a word to describe them - they were his prey while he was the hunter. He didn't care how many he had to cut down; he would never tire until all of them were dead at his feet.

Bellatrix - on the other hand - was a different story. It was clear she had the skills, it was obvious that she had the power, but the main issue was that she wouldn't finish the job; she lacked the most important trait of the Al Ghul Bloodline - she refused to kill. Talia feared this - she was just like her father and she didn't want weakness into the pain; especially since she was the eldest of the two. She either had to fix the problem or completely remove it.

And she would much prefer the latter.

Ra's loved his grandchildren all the same - he didn't care of Bellatrix didn't kill, he was pleased enough that she was able to complete impossible tasks alone and come back unscabbed. He would praise her and he would train with her in his free time - the two of them were fond of meditation to keep themselves centered.

"Remember Granddaughter: If you are completely centered then there is nothing you can't overcome. Knowing your center is knowing your true power." - That is what Ra's would tell her during those times.

As time passed on, Talia noticed that Bellatrix gained in power and knowledge every day while her son showed just how much of an Al Ghul he was every time he went on a mission, but that didn't matter to Talia - that girl...that mistake...was a single dot in the way of her son's rightful place as Head of The League & she had to something about it.

And she did.

One night - Talia told Bellatrix to accompany her to the desert for recon and the girl agreed, thinking it was going to be a mother-daughter experience. The two of them sourced their bounds but found nothing, Bellatrix looked around the dunes to see if there was something hiding in the desert's darkness until her body made her move and she dodged just in the next of time as a blade came in close contact with her throat. She reached for her sword, only for her hand to be grabbed, and turned it to her back. She was then grabbed from other directions before being kicked in the back of her knees and came to her knees in the sand. She struggled and looked at the cloaked figures that held her until she looked at her mother.

"Mother! Help!" She begged for her mother.

"Why would I do that," Talia walked over to her bound daughter as one of the assassins handed her a sword, "When it took me so long to get you here?" Talia looked into her daughter's eyes with emptiness.

"You...You planned this? Mother, why would you do this?" Bellatrix asked.

"This is something I should have done from the start, after all - My Beloved needs an heir, not a burden. You are a stain on the Al Ghul Name, an Al Ghul that refuses to kill is not an Al Ghul; hell, you aren't even an assassin. You're a defect, a flaw, a wrench in my plan to have my beloved rule behind me as King and Queen of the League of Assassins."

Bellatrix's eyes widened at the sight of her mother raising her sword.

"And all defects must be eliminated." Talia growled as her arm thrust forward - Bellatrix's eyes widened and her jaw locked to keep herself from screaming as the blade ripped through her chest and came out on the other side.

Talia lifted her foot - the other assassins released the girl - and kicked her to the dirt and watched her groan in pain before going limp in the cold desert night.

"Dispose of the body. I have to deliver the news that the heir has been killed and watch my one true child take his rightful place." Talia didn't give her daughter's body a second glance as she turned and walked away to her jet that was waiting for her.

She should have checked her vitals.

[Timeskip - Years Later]

Years had gone by but Talia still thinks back to the night she stuck her sword through her daughter's body and left her for dead; she was so certain that was what she wanted by there was something missing and for once in her life, it had nothing to do with her Beloved Bat. She tried to put those thoughts aside for she was on a mission.

After the death of her father, she found some research on a mind-control agent that she could use to have the one she wanted most but the League was too thin and most were doing other tasks while some were rebuilding the complex, thus the Head of the Demon Clan had to deal with it on her own, which she was fine with.

However, something felt different - she wasn't sure what it was...but she knew something was going to happen tonight.

Talia did what she had to do and secured to the agent before making her way back to the roof - only to have two people walking for her.

One was a tall man with a red helmet, a brown leather jacket, a gray Bat-Armor with a Red Bat Insignia on the chest; Talia could see the pistols and ammo belts around his waist.

The second was a feminine figure: She was around the same height as Damian, wearing Bat-Armor that looked a lot like a Ninja's outfit with a sword on her back and a dark blue Bat Insignia on her chest. Her hair was long and black but tied in a ponytail, except some hair that freely fell in her face and covered some of the ribbon eye mask around her eyes.

"I guess my beloved couldn't make it to see me?" Talia asked as she placed the agent in her pocket.

"We were the closest in the area so he sent us to what it was about - didn't think we'd find his batshit crazy baby-momma here." The Red Hood said as he folded his arms.

"Too bad, he might have convinced me to surrender but I don't have an issue with breaking children who stand in my way." Talia said.

"You never had an issue with killing them, why would you have an issue with breaking them?" The female said.

"What did you say?" Talia said as she looked at the female figure.

"You don't remember the child you killed? The blood of the Al Ghul you spilled? The child you detested because she wouldn't kill so you decided to kill her instead?" The female stepped forward and reached for her eye mask, "You don't remember my voice...Mother?" She pulled it off and Talia's eyes widened when they locked with the blue eyes of her late daughter - the one that was supposed to die. The stain in her plan.

"You lived? After all of these years, you dare come to face me again?" Talia narrowed her eyes.

"Rather cold to say to your kid who came back from the dead, Lady." He looked at Bellatrix, "Bat-Fang, you wanna deal with her while I wait on the old man?" He asked.

"You read my mind." Bellatrix stepped forward and pulled her sword out, "Arm yourself."

"I guess some stains are harder to wash out." Talia said as she pulled her sword out, "I'll make sure you don't come back."

Emerald and Sapphire locked with each other before the thunderclap of the coming storm sent them both into attack mode. Their blades clashed against each other as the two women danced in a deadly dance, Talia was focused but at the same time confused - how was Bellatrix this focused when the anger in her eyes was so strong? Talia tried harder and used more power but that was the opening Bellatrix needed.

Talia watched as the girl grabbed the sword with her left hand before delivering a swift but devastating kick to her gut, sending her skipping like a stone against the roof as she released the grip of her sword. Talia picked herself off the ground and glared at her eldest as the girl place her own sword back in its sheath and shatter Talia's into two halves, letting the shards and sword halves fall to her feet before she charged at her mother. Talia's guard went up as the two of them locked in a brawl.

'What is going on here? She was never this fast or ruthless! What is...'

Her thoughts were cut off as Bellatrix grabbed her foot and began to swing her until Bellatrix let her go and got stuck in a window. Talia opened her eyes from the impact just in time to see the glare on her daughter's face as she came soaring and her fist connected with Talia's face, sending them both into the abandoned building. Talia groaned from the pain but more pain was added when she felt her daughter grab her by her hair and pull her to her feet.

"What do you have to say now, Talia? Am I still defective?" Bellatrix asked before she punched the Assassin Leader in the face, making her crash into a crumbling wall.

"Am I still a flaw?" Bellatrix asked as she spartan-kicked Talia through the wall and into the living room, making the woman fall on her back.

"Am I still the wrench in your perfect plan? Am I?!" Bellatrix barked as she grabbed her mother by the next and punched her in the face, making her back hit a window. Talia's version was blurry from the pain but when it came together - her eyes widened at the murderous gaze in her eyes.

"Am I still not an Al Ghul?" Bellatrix punched her in the face again - sending the woman crashing through the window again but this time, she felt on a lower roof of a building just as another thunderclap echoed through the sky and the rain began to fall. Talia grunted at the pain but opened her eyes to watch her daughter jump out the window and walk over to her; glaring down at her with blue eyes.

"How... How did you survive?" She asked.

"You should have checked my vitals before you left me to die; once you were gone, I took care of the assassins that you had hold me. I'm not proud I shed their blood but I knew if I didn't, they were going to make sure I was dead." Bellatrix answered.

"You survived... You killed... And now, you have me helpless." Talia smiled at her, "I'm so proud of you, My Baby Girl." She cooed.

"What?" Bellatrix glared with confusion.

"You are everything I want in a perfect heir: You survived my trap, you killed those who held you captive, and you reduced me - the Leader of the League of Assassins - to this pitiful state. My darling, you are perfect." Talia smiled at her daughter.

"I don't know what you are thinking but I'm nothing like you want me to be and I never will be." Bellatrix reached down and took the mind-control agent from Talia before turning and walking away.

"You can walk away now, My Sweet Child, but know that I am coming for you. I will bring you home and you will be what you were born to me - The Perfect Al Ghul Heir. Run while you can, my dear, Mother is coming for you." Talia laughed at Bellatrix as the girl jumped off the small roof, leaving the woman alone.

Talia looked up at the rain in the sky and smiled before picking herself off the ground, touching the side of her lip, and looked at the blood - her blood - that her daughter spilled.

'It was a mistake to let you go but now that you are back, I shall have you once more and we shall be a family. You can't escape your blood, Bellatrix; you're an Al Ghul...and you belong to me.'

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Dodger Knows Best

Pairing: Chris Evans x Wife!Reader

Word Count: ~1k

Summary: Dodger’s been acting strange since quarantine started. Does he know something that we don’t?

Warning: Fluff, of course

A/N: Inspired by Chris’s reading of “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” at the beginning of COVID. Only took me a year to write 🙄

My Masterlist

I couldn’t stop giggling as I hear my husband reading aloud in the other room. I try my best not to make too much noise though, I don’t want to ruin the video. When he was asked to read a children’s book during this trying time we’re currently in, he couldn’t have said yes fast enough. Being the big kid he is, I know how excited he was to do it. 

Every day he finds new ways to give back to those who have lost their jobs and those who are missing school. He knows how important education is, especially right now. So he made it his goal to do at least one thing to help people per day during this quarantine.

Oh, what a wonderful world we live in right now...

This time spent at home has been much needed, but equally frustrating. I haven’t felt well for a few months now, prior to this pandemic. Getting to stay home, sleep in, not put on a bra or real clothes, cuddling my husband and our boy Dodger has been comforting. It’s frustrating that I’ve been stuck in the house, not able to leave for almost two weeks. The small amount of freedom that I get from walking Dodger is going to be taken away sooner rather than later in order to try and stop this pandemic.

Chris has enjoyed being home as much as I’ve loved having him home. However, I know he wants to get back to work. There are some projects he’s been most anxious to work on that are now on hold.

He’s been super protective of me since he’s been home. He’s insisted on doing anything that has to do with possibly interacting with another human being- getting groceries, take-out, other necessities. Dodger also hasn’t left my side since I’ve been home. Chris was insulted at first, claiming I stole his buddy. I just figured he was happy I was home.

“And chances are if he gets some apple juice, he’ll want a donut to go with it.”

I giggle again, unable to contain it. I hear the amusement in his tone as he concludes his video. I finish making lunch and join him in the living room, Dodger following at my feet. “How was it?”

“A little weird reading to my phone, but,” he smiles up at me, “I enjoyed it.”

“Are you going to read to our kids someday?” I set down his plate before sitting next to him.

“Abso-freaking-lutely! I can’t wait.” An even bigger smile took over his entire face as the thought crosses his mind. We’ve talked about having kids since before we got married. He loves being around his niece and nephews and it shows just how much he yearns for a family of his own. When we officially became a family of two plus Dodger, we immediately started trying. We’ve had some close calls, but all false alarms.

Until yesterday morning.

“How were those top secret errands you just had to do alone this morning?” He asks after taking a bite of his sandwich.

“That reminds me!” I get back up and head to the bedroom, where I hid a present in my side of the closet. I pull the plastic bag out from behind some of my maxi dresses, taking the contents out before bending down to Dodger. 

I struggle to put him in the small t-shirt I bought him. He’s a wiggle worm and wouldn’t stop trying to lick my face. Once it’s secure, I take my phone out, open the camera app and snap a few pictures before switching to video mode. 

After hitting the red record button, I stand up again. “Alright Dodger, let’s go get Daddy!” As I start walking, he’s just barely ahead of me. We head back into the living room.

He immediately cracks up when he sees Dodger with his new shirt. He asks how I even managed to get it on him, giving him some love and multiple kisses on his muzzle. I command for Dodger to sit, which he obeys. Chris kneels down to try and read what the shirt says. Dodger makes it hard since all he wants to do is lick Chris’s face. It takes a few tries before Dodger finally sits still enough for him to read it.

I wait with bated breath, biting my lips trying to hide the biggest smile. We’ve waited so long for this moment. I’ve imagined how I was going to tell him about a hundred times when it was finally confirmed and we were passed the safe mark.

He looks up at me with his mouth agape. “Are you serious?”

I peek from behind my phone and nod. “That’s what the errand was.”

“Wait, really?”

“I wanted to confirm it before telling you.” I hoped he wouldn’t be mad that I didn’t bring him to the first doctor’s appointment. With how many close calls we’ve had, I wanted to be doubly sure that it was happening before even getting remotely excited about the prospect.

“So, you’re sure?” He stands up and comes closer to me. “You’re pregnant?” The biggest smile I’ve ever seen on my husbands face takes over. I nod. “We’re having a baby?” I see the tears building in his eyes. He scoops me up in his arms. He spins around, exclaiming “We’re having a baby!”

“Now it all makes sense why Dodge hasn’t left my side.” Dogs have that kind of intuition. He must have sensed the change in me before even I knew what was happening.

“Of course he knew.” He rolls his eyes before turning his gaze down to the all-knowing pup. He sits there in his “Baby’s First Bodyguard” t-shirt, smiling up at us as if confirming that yes, he is the all-knowing. 

I guess Chris and I learned an important lesson: always listen to Dodger for he knows best.

~*~

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance​ @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @princess-evans-addict​

[bloodycassian]

COLD NIGHTS - Cassian x Azriel x Reader - Prompt: 

hi i love your work so much!!! I was thinking a cassian x azriel x reader (i just love them sm, why have one when you can have two ) where the reader is sister of a high lord maybe day or winter court, and reader goes missing (kinda angsty) and her brother (a high lord) panics and goes to the night court for help (bc if her two bat boys can’t find her who will)  and az and cassian go full on panic mode and search for the reader, i was also thinking a fluffy cute ending where reader is just cuddling with azriel and cassian while her wounds heal take as much time as you need to write this, don’t pressure yourself. Take care lovely

Kallis would never forget the screams. The terror and panic that rushed through him when he realised that you were gone.  He sent half the city to search for you. He called upon Helion to inspect the magic. He was frantic in finding you. But it was like you had just disappeared out of nowhere. No sign of struggle, not a drop of blood spilled. The offender was sloppy in their ways, but their magic was strong. Helion could sense it.  They had a deathwish from Kallis himself if he ever found them. +  The first thing you saw were your cracked and bloody hands. They were split open from the dry cold wind. Sea air drifted into the cave. The cold brutal howling outside mixed with the roar of waves breaking confirmed your nightmares. Cape Tragedy. 

The islands off the coast of winter were known for their unforgiving nature to ships. Hence their name, Cape Tragedy. Also known as the Tragic coast, no stories were ever heard of any survivors of those crashes. If they had managed to survive the churning water, then the false salvation of the islands would kill them. It happened often enough that there were lighthouses set atop many of the bigger islands for ships to avoid on stormy days.

You coughed from the dry air, earning a pair of yellow eyes to dart to you. One of the three lesser fae males noticed you were awake and clapped. "She wakes! We've been waiting for you, sweetheart." His green skin was pale in the overcast light streaming in from the mouth of the cave. Snow Bear pelts lay all around. A disgrace in your culture. No citizen of Winter court would do such a thing. You looked to the walls to find weapons, and strange markings along the stone. Sailors from far away lands. 

Not even sailors. Pirates. A chill ran through you.  

"We're going to get your weight in gold, pretty one." The scaled male curled a piece of your hair behind you ear. Your stomach turned, and you tried to scoot away. "My brother will kill you first. And he'll take a long time doing it." You promised, trying to make your voice sound strong. Terror had you by it's grip though, and it was hard to do anything other than panic

. "Your brother? The pretty one that shears the Elk?" The green one asked. You laughed, and then were hissing in pain when the scaled male yanked on your hair. "What's so funny?" 

"You think my brother is an elk herder?" You spat "You must be dumber than you look." The males glanced between each other, then to the one who hadn't said anything yet.

"Who ye think you are then?" The male holding your hair stammered, trying to keep his panic under wraps. 

"Kallis' sister." You said with deadly calm. "And the high lord does not negotiate." 

"If you're so noble why you got such a mouth on ye?" The third male finally spoke.

They laughed.

"Maybe we will see just how much of a mouth-" He started again. He didnt have a chance to finish his disgusting words. You kicked, bending an ice spear straight up from the rocky ice floor and through the third male's body. Then the beating from the other two came. 

They bound your wrists and ankles in rope and tar. Their hands shook when they did it. It gave you a small bit of satisfaction. The potion they gave you to knock you out was just barely strong enough. You fought it as best you could, but it won. You could only hear the faint sounds of arguing then a crash of glass, then the cold winds whipping around you. And when you woke, your body ached.  The cold bit into your limbs. Your fingers were pale. Far too pale to be healthy. You knew frostbite when you saw it. Your body refused to move under your own power. Your blood was frozen to the icy ground. They had used a potion and transported you to a peninsula, and you could only faintly hear the ocean below. You could feel the potion wearing off, but you knew you weren't healing. Not yet. You reached down into your own mind, picking up the fading tendrils of power. Of your bond to the two you knew could save you. And you pulled as hard as you could manage.  --- "Fuck." The roaring thought shook Cassian awake. Bleary eyed, he glanced about the room as if there was someone actually shouting at him.  Then he felt it. The weak tug that had been silent for so long. And he knew it was nothing good. Frenzied, he met Azriel at the dining area. Where they spent the rest of the night planning, deducing a probable reason for you to be calling so weakly. They sent their worries to Rhys, but they were shooed away. "I'm researching. Meet me in the library at dawn." The two males tried to comfort each other. But the worry pulsating through the bond was too much to focus on. So they waited. Kallis appeared that morning. He spat his story and begged for help, practically in tears as he spoke to the three Illyrians. Cassian and Az knew something was wrong the moment you were attacked. Court laws forbade them interfering on Winter Court territory though.  As soon as the approval was given, the brothers winnowed to the border of Winter and started flying. + You were coming to terms that you would die in the cold. You had imagined death differently. Battle was the primary way you thought you'd die. Or at the end of a High Lord's magic for being too much of an advisor. Smiling at the memory of putting Tamlin in his place, you gave another tug down the bonds to your mates. And like a snap, they both tugged back. Almost in unison. It was hard to tell. You closed your eyes, listening to the soft waves below. They lulled you into a cold sleep yet again.  + Despite the cold, the Illyrians flew as fast as they could. They could sense your light fading, and chased it for mile after mile. Their wings cut through the harsh winter winds, fueled by rage and desperation. Then they spotted the dark figure frozen to the snow below. Cassian landed first, a few feet away. The ice cracked beneath him. "Get us out of here." He growled to Azriel.  "We need to make sure she's okay before we move."  Cassian growled, but didn't protest. Azriel understood. He felt the anguish and frustration through the shared bond. Az's hands pressed gently to your neck, checking your pulse. He swore. "Baby, we need you to wake up for us. We're here. We got you." Cassian put a hand to your cheek and fought back the tears that threatened.  You groaned in response. They both sighed in relief, their breath making clouds in front of them. "I'm stuck..." You managed through your stiff jaw.  Cassian stroked a thumb over your cheek. "Stuck? Honey you're-"  "Cas..." Azriel nodded to your side, to the ice that crept its way up your damp clothes. Azriel could have taken a very very long time torturing the beasts that did this to his mate. The rage coiled in his gut at the sight of your injuries. The only reason you hadn't bled out was the blood and water mix turning your wounds to ice.  Cassian pulled at the ice web that encapsulated you. Under the heat of his rage it broke, and broke and broke. Azriel placed small patches of his shield over your frostbitten fingers. "We're gonna get you out of here. Just stay still." Azriel smoothed back your hair, and darkness swirled over you. The change from the harsh overcast light of Winter court to the soft sun of Night court was jarring.  Madja put her hands on you and you were asleep in an instant. Her warm hands were a blessing from the Mother.  +  "She's lucky she has that Winter blood in her or she'd be dead." Madja wiped her hands off and handed both the Illyrians a small vial. "That is the scrap from a poisoned sword that broke off in her shoulder. I got all the pieces out, but the poison lingers. It may heal slowly, but it should get better."  Anguish burned both of their stomachs. Azriel's throat tightened and he looked away, but gripped the vial tightly. Cassian stared at it, his eyes murderous. Madja left without another word. "She was almost killed. And we couldn't do anything." Cassians' voice was low, with violence dripping from it. "We need her here. In Velaris where we can... watch her." He didn't know what he was saying, but the instinct to protect was overriding every other logical thought he had. Anger burned and burned in his stomach, swallowing him with rage. He could feel Az mirroring the same feeling, but with a cold deadliness that begged to simmer out of him.  "You know she wont go for that. She loves her home too much. Her brother." Azriel whispered back. "We're her mates. She should be with us." Cassian was looking for a fight. All the tension and anger of the day had to be worked out. Azriel felt it too. His shadows ran anxiously through the room.

The wind outside howled. It shifted the dark clouds that covered the moon. It seemed to be a cold day in all of Prythian. A cold day in your mates hearts to the pirates that had taken you. They spoke their rage mind to mind, imagining the ways to torture the bastards. 

How to find them would be the first priority. Azriel kept circling back to that part. + The healer cleared his throat at the door. "She's asking for you." He nodded to Rhys' brothers. They left Rhys behind in unison, walking in perfect step with each other. Their minds hummed together over that bond they shared with you. "Protect protect protect." They both seemed to demand.  Azriel knocked softly, his heart flipping when he heard your voice again. "Get in here." You demanded, giving them a broad smile when they practically shoved each other out of the way. 

"Come keep me warm." You weakly folded the blanket back, exposing some of the bruising on your skin. 

They complied with enthusiasm. Azriel's hands were cold at first, but they got better when he reached around you to hold Cassian closer. They worked in tandem to keep you covered, making sure that you weren't too crowded or too warm. Azriel summoned his cool shadows when you got too warm and had to kick the blankets off. Cassian's warm breath would keep you warm when they became too much. You traced Azriel's cheekbones, the sharp edge of his jaw while falling alseep. Cassian's muscled forearms hugging you from behind were like a heavy pillow. 

"Rest now, we can have more fun later." Az winked, making your stomach flutter. Cassian groaned and pulled you further to his lap. You tried not to think of the hardness that pressed to you now.  "Goodnight." The shadowsinger kissed your forehead and like a light, you were out. Finally resting peacefully wrapped between your two mates and their warm bond you all shared.