#in any case i am EXTREMELY EXCITED

[basingstokemercury]

okay

wow

that was a messed up dream

and I say as a perennial weird-dream-haver

might need to lay off mikado and yeomen for a while?

[cospinol]

I kind of hated the last tournament in kengan omega on the whole just because the ryuki and setsuna situation didn’t pay off the way I dreamed of (and saw paing got knocked out in round two. boo) but I have to admit lihito beating koga in less than a chapter in the final round IS the funniest possible outcome. the writers got bored too I guess

^he’s still right that this is how watching koga matches feels

[pangur-and-grim]

I know you're excited about the kitten grubs, but how is your ACTUAL grub doing?? You haven't been posting about the grub. I NEED grub content. PLEASE, GREER.

oh that's right, I haven't spoken much about my beetle larvae!

to give a refresher, in January I ordered a smooth stag beetle grub, spoon lowered it into its enclosure, and watched it tunnel under the dirt

and since then I've had a pet tub of dirt. completely unchanging.

however the store messed up, and accidentally shipped my order twice. so the next day, I got a second surprise beetle grub, and had to scramble to put together another enclosure for it!

this is when I made my first mistake: it was a large tub, but too shallow for the grub.

my second mistake was in how I moistened the soil. the online instructions I read said the soil should be kept "wet enough that it clumps in your hand". which, given the heating is going full blast in my house and drying the air out, meant I was spritzing the soil to moisten it every morning.

and then one day I found my beetle grub at the surface of the dirt, unmoving. extremely dead :(

I gave him a proper burial. but his death surprised me. I had to revaluate how I've been caring for them - it's possible that I misunderstood the soil instructions, and spritzed too often. AND in a shallow container, there's less room for the water to go, and more chance of the grub getting overly sodden.

so one grub is unfortunately deceased. what about the second one? I have corrected my mistake and am spraying less water, but was it too little too late? or is it still alive in there, undergoing metamorphosis?

in any case, I'm determined to keep this bucket of dirt for 8 months on the off chance a beetle crawls out of it, and will be tenderly caring for it until then.

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

The Danger Zone (Part 17) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 5.0k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Fluff; Talk of Marriage; Angst; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Jake gets his orders.

Series Master List

Master List

It was deathly quiet in Cyclone’s office and the only sound that Jake registered was his heart beating out of his chest. Slowly closing the folder, Jake turned back to Cyclone, who remained sitting with an impassive expression behind his desk. 

“I’m sorry, Hangman,” Cyclone replied quietly, his tone genuine. “There was nothing that I could do.”

Cyclone had been in Hangman’s position before. Twice, actually. And he didn’t relish in handing any man or woman orders that would take them away from their family. Especially during such an important time. But that came with the industry that they signed up for.

“I was expecting it, sir.”

And that roughly translated to: of course, they wouldn’t let me finally be happy

“Still, I am sorry. I’ve been in your position before and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.”

“Do you know how long I’ll be away?” Jake asked quietly, holding onto a tiny thread of hope. 

“Anywhere from two to eight months. Most likely, somewhere in the middle.” 

You were about six and a half months pregnant now. If he made it back in two months, he could be there for the birth of your child. But Jake knew from experience that he probably wouldn’t be home by then. And what if the baby came early? He’d be cutting it extremely close if he was lucky. 

Worst-case scenario, he would return home to you when the baby was almost six months old. Six months. He would miss your baby growing and learning all about the world around them. He’d come home and the baby would already almost be halfway to a full year old. He’d miss so many milestones, so many little triumphs. 

“Am I excused, sir?”

“Yes, of course. Take the days before you deploy and spend them with your family.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Slowly walking out to his truck with the most defeated feeling of his life, Jake slipped into the driver’s seat of his truck. He just sat there for a minute, processing the news, and trying to get his emotions under control. 

But once the tears started falling, there was nothing that he could do to stop them. 

Resting his head on his fist, Hangman let a batch of tears of complete and utter frustration slip down his cheeks. He slammed his fist onto the steering wheel of his truck before the fight left his body and he slumped against the steering wheel, letting more tears slip down his cheeks. 

How the hell was he going to break the news to you?

~~~~~

The lights were on in your apartment when Jake pulled into the parking lot. He took the key out of the ignition and slowly slid out of his truck. Staring up at the window that showed into your living room, he took a moment to gather himself before heading inside. 

From the outside, you could be seen smiling to yourself, making dinner for the two of you. Your growing and prominent bump was covered by one of Jake’s tee shirts and you wore his ring on your finger proudly. The joy on your features only multiplied when you heard the door unlock and Jake step inside. 

As you hurried to wipe your hands on a towel, Jake set his bag down, and tried to push his emotions aside when he heard your footsteps. And when you came hurrying around the corner, his smile was pained as you ran up to him.

“We got the house!” you yelled, causing Jake’s mind to shift for a moment. “They took our second offer!”

“Really?” Jake breathed out as you nodded, practically bursting with excitement. 

“We bought a house!”

Jake held out his arms and quickly pulled you close to his chest, his mind still on the news that he had to break to you.

The kiss that you initiated was light-hearted and celebratory, full of playful little pecks. But the kiss that Jake returned was one of deep-seated emotion, like he was afraid that you were going to disappear right in front of him. He held you firmly, his arms enveloping your figure and cradling your bump with every touch of protective energy that he possessed in his body. 

You pulled back, your brows furrowed, as you cupped his cheeks with your hands. Staring into his eyes, you rubbed your thumbs along his cheeks. 

“Jake, what’s wrong?”

From the outside, Jake could be seen leading you over to the couch and sitting you down. He forced himself to gather his courage as you looked at him with concern. Letting out a breath, he turned back to you and finally broke the news. 

As he slowly explained the situation, your expression started to change. There was a flash of fear that built and built until a defeated, frustrated look drew your gaze down to your lap. Jake leaned over, whispering soft words until you picked your head up. Forcing a smile to assure Jake that you were alright, you couldn’t help the tears that started slipping down your cheeks. 

Jake wiped them away with his thumb, starting to cry again himself. The two of you shared another kiss before Jake pulled you into his lap. Curling against his chest, you dug your fingers into his shirt, trying to hold in the sobs that were crawling out of your throat. Jake rested his head on top of your own, whispering all kinds of words of reassurance that neither of you truly believed in. 

He had been in this industry since he was eighteen. You grew up around the Navy. 

And you knew what this would mean for your family. 

The two of you sat there, locking in embrace, as the sun started to slip below the horizon. Jake rested his arm around your bump, hoping that your baby would still be there when he returned. He’d never forgive himself if he missed the birth of your child. Especially if anything went wrong. 

He would never forgive himself. 

The sun had completely set when you finally uncurled yourself from Jake’s chest. Sitting up, you brushed your hand through his hair a few times, causing him to close his eyes for a moment. Jake slowly opened his green eyes, the eyes that you quite honestly pictured your baby inheriting, when you removed your hand from his head.

“We have a few days,” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion as you tried to find the good in the situation. There wasn’t much to be found, and you were really trying your best to not start crying all over again. “What did you want to do with them?” 

“Spend every minute with the two of you.”

“Anything more specific?” you teased him, trying to smile though Jake couldn’t seem to return it. “You want to take a trip or go shopping for some more baby stuff or . . .?”

You trailed off, trying to think of something else when Jake gently grabbed your hand. You looked down as he slowly turned your wrist over and ran his thumb over your engagement ring. Sharing a look with Jake, you felt another batch of tears start to form. 

“I know you mentioned wanting to wait until after the baby was born because it would just be too chaotic to think about now . . . but—”

“—Yes,” you agreed quickly. “I’ll marry you, Jake.” 

He offered you a genuinely touched smile, a different batch of tears coming to his eyes. You wiped them away while you shed some of your own before pulling him in for a soft, loving kiss. And Jake could only pull you closer, savoring one of his last opportunities to do so. Breaking away a few moments later, you flashed him a painful smile.

“I guess I should find a dress.” 

~~~~~

Sitting with your head in your hands at Bradley and Emma’s kitchen table, you tried to not let your stress show. Everyone was giving you looks like they were waiting for you to finally break and you just frankly did not have the time. 

You were marrying Jake that afternoon and you didn’t have a wedding dress to get married in. 

The day before the two of you had run around like crazy people, making sure that all of the necessary documents were being prepared for the closing of your house. Then you spent time at his lawyer’s office, signing off on wills and other documents to protect yourselves and the baby while Jake was away. And you did a fair amount of crying along the way and so here you were, still without a dress. 

“I just don’t know where I’m going to find a white dress that fits me in time,” you told Penny, picking your head up from your hands. 

“We’ll figure something out,” she assured you, squeezing your shoulder. “Maybe we can find a dress down at one of the department stores in town.” 

“And what if we don’t find something?”

“We’ll find something,” Emma said from your other side. “You’ll have a white dress for this wedding.”

“What about this one?” Bradley called, causing the three of you to turn to him. 

Your brother held up the vacuum sealed bag that contained your mother’s wedding dress from her own wedding in 1983. It used to sit in your apartment closet, up until you moved in with Jake and were pretty much forced to hand it over to Bradley since you didn’t have any space in the apartment. 

After your mom’s death, you knew that you would incorporate her dress into your own in some way. Perhaps with a bit of fabric. Or you would borrow the veil. Something small that would have her with you on your special day, but also not holding you back with eighties fashion. 

You never really pictured actually getting married in your mom’s wedding dress.

For one thing, there was the little detail that your mom was over five months pregnant when she married your dad. 

Apparently, shotgun weddings and unplanned pregnancies ran in the family. 

Walking over to your brother, you inspected your mother’s wedding dress a little closer. It was fitted at the bust, but even with the slight cinch at the hips, the fabric was loose. It had to be. Bradley’s fat ass had to be accommodated. The skirt was a bit full, but nothing crazy. The bodice was covered in delicate lace and it had the distinct puffy sleeves from the eighties. 

“Mom’s dress,” you said quietly, turning to your brother. “You think I should wear Mom’s dress?” 

“It’s the only suggestion I have,” Bradley replied softly. And when he saw a flash of doubt in your eyes, he asked, “What’s wrong?” 

“I just don’t want to ruin it,” you replied, running your fingers along it. 

“You’re not going to ruin it,” Bradley assured you, causing you to turn back to him. “She always said that she would have married Dad in a potato sack. She didn’t care about the dress. She just wanted to get married, that was all.” 

“She never cared about any of that,” you agreed, sniffling a bit. Wiping your tears away, you croaked out, “I just wish she was here.” 

Bradley pulled you in for a tight brotherly hug that you quickly returned. Emma carefully took the dress from Bradley’s hand, letting him properly hug you. You held onto your brother and sobbed, your promise to yourself about not breaking down falling to little pieces at your feet. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair how Jake got called up for deployment when you were nearing your third trimester. It wasn’t fair how the two of you had to cobble together some random ceremony at the last minute. It wasn’t fair how you couldn’t have your parents at your wedding. It wasn’t fair how you could have your baby without Jake by your side for months.

And it all just came rushing out as your big brother protectively hugged you in the middle of his kitchen. 

“It’s going to be alright,” he told you, sharing a worried look with Emma. “You’ll see.” 

“I’ve lost enough. I just wanted to win this one time, Brad,” you sobbed, causing your brother to start to tear up too. “I just wanted him here for a few more months. That’s all I needed.” 

“I know, I know,” he told you, rubbing your back. “It’s going to be alright.” 

The two of you stood there for a few moments, maybe even minutes as you cried and Bradley tried his best to comfort you.

“And Mom and Dad aren’t here to walk me down the aisle,” you continued on, sniffling repeatedly. 

“I cried about that too, on my wedding day,” Bradley told you quietly, voice thick with emotion. “But they’re both here. And they both wouldn’t want you to cry like this on your wedding day.”

“I know,” you whispered, wiping your tears away. 

Giving your brother another hug, you stepped back and turned to see Penny, Emma, and Sarah, who had come in while you were crying to Bradley, standing there, waiting for you. 

“So, do you want to wear your mom’s dress?” Emma asked softly, holding it up for you. 

“Yeah,” you agreed with a small smile, wiping some more tears away. “I’ll wear my mom’s wedding dress.”

Penny walked over and gave you a tight hug before leading you over to the guest bedroom with Sarah and Emma trailing after the two of you. 

“We’ll get you fitted into the dress and while Sarah’s sewing it up, you hop in the shower and get all of the tears and snot off of your face and then we’ll really start getting you ready, alright?”

~~~~~

“. . . and that was how I met your mom,” Jake recorded his own voice, sitting in your shared apartment. 

With you at Bradley and Emma’s house to get ready, Jake was taking the opportunity to put together a little gift for you. He ordered a set of headphones for your bump and now he was recording little messages to your baby. 

Saving that message, Jake was about to start another one when there was a knock on the door. He got up from his seat and walked over, letting Javy in. Just like him, Javy was dressed in his dress whites and he offered Jake a smile of condolence as he walked into the apartment. 

“How’re you doing?”

“I’ve been recording messages. For the baby,” Jake replied softly, shutting the door. “For her to play when I’m deployed.” 

“How many do you have now?” 

“Six,” Jake stated, showing Javy his phone. “I’m hoping to record a few more before I leave.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake,” Javy stated quietly, trying to not let defeat enter his tone. Jake’s expression already had too much of it for Javy’s taste. “You should get to be there. And there’s still a chance, but this isn’t fair and you have the right to be pissed about it.” 

“I’m not even angry anymore. I’m just . . . depressed,” Jake returned quietly. “And I’m worried about her. I’m terrified that this is going to push her into early labor or hurt the baby or something like that.” 

“We’ve already passed around a sign up sheet,” Javy told Jake, who looked at his best friend with a measure of confusion. “Every day, at least one of us is going to stop by and spend time with her. Check on her. Help her with anything that she needs help with. Make sure that she and the baby are alright. She’s not going to be left here alone.” 

Jake nodded slowly, tears threatening to fall. He bit his lip, trying to hold it in, but when Javy pulled him into a tight hug, Jake let a few fall. 

“I’m so sorry, Jake,” Javy repeated sorrowfully. 

Straightening up after a few solemn moments, the two aviators collected themselves before Javy put on a brave face for his best friend. Looking around the apartment, Javy turned back to Jake. 

“So, you got the rings?”

“Yeah, we bought them yesterday,” Jake replied, walking over to your bedroom. 

He pulled out a fabric bag and handed it over to Javy, who opened it and dropped the rings into his hand. To match your engagement ring, the two of you bought silver wedding bands. They were simple, traditional wedding bands, but when Jake got back, the two of you were already discussing getting something engraved on the inside of them. 

But right now, the most important fact was that the two of you got married today. All the other details could come later. 

“Anything else that you’re supposed to bring?” Javy asked, handing the bag back to Jake. “You got all of the paperwork?” 

“Right here,” Jake replied, picking up a folder from the kitchen counter. “I’m just waiting for the text to start heading down there.” 

“Go record your messages to your kid then. I’m going to call Nat,” Javy told Jake before heading out of the apartment. 

Pulling out his phone, Javy pressed Phoenix’s contact and held the phone to his ear as he walked over to the stairwell. After a few rings, Phoenix picked up the call. 

“Hey, you at Jake’s?” she answered quietly. 

“Yeah, I am.” 

“How is he?” 

“He’s fucking broken, Nat,” Javy sighed, rubbing his face. “I’ve never seen him look this defeated before.” After a pause, Javy asked, “How’s she doing? Did you make it to Rooster and Emma’s place?”

“They’re doing some quick alterations to her dress. And Emma is doing her hair and makeup right now. So, we’ll probably be heading out within an hour.” Phoenix took a moment before adding, “She’s trying to pretend like she’s okay but Rooster said that she had a bit of a breakdown earlier.” 

“But she’s okay now?”

“Physically, yeah, she’s fine. Emotionally, I’m worried. But Penny’s keeping a close eye on her.” 

“I just feel so bad for them.” 

“I know, me too,” Phoenix replied softly. “Where’s Jake now?” 

“Don’t tell her because I’m pretty sure that he wants to make it a surprise, but he’s recording messages to their baby for her to play while he’s gone.” 

“Jesus Christ,” Phoenix sighed, shaking her head. “I can’t believe that he has to leave tomorrow. They can’t even fully enjoy their wedding night.” 

“I know,” Javy sighed, glancing down the hall at your and Jake’s apartment. “I’m going to go check on him again. Text me when you guys are heading down to Town Hall.” 

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

~~~~~

You sat in Emma and Bradley’s bathroom as Emma applied some eyeshadow to your eyelids. She had already braided your hair into a simple updo with some help from Phoenix before working on your makeup.

“Alright, no more crying, okay?” Emma stated as she pulled out your eyeliner and mascara. “Once this is on your face, no more tears.” 

“I’ll try my best,” you returned quietly. 

Closing your eyes as Emma applied your eyeliner, you could hear the sound of footsteps down the hall. When Emma told you that you could open your eyes, you turned your head to see Maverick standing at the entrance to the bathroom. He was already in his dress whites and offered you a supportive smile.

“Hey, Mav,” you called to him before Emma turned your head to apply your mascara. 

“How’re you feeling?” 

“Like I’m tired of everyone asking me that question,” you replied, causing a small smile to crack at Maverick’s lips. 

“Did you find something to wear?” 

“I’m wearing Mom’s dress,” you replied, turning back to him after Emma removed the mascara brush. “Sarah and Penny are fixing it up quickly right now in the guest room.” 

“You’re wearing your mom’s dress?” 

“With a few alterations. I had the sleeves cut off,” you explained, causing Maverick to nod slowly. “But it actually fits pretty well. Turns out that my baby at almost seven months is about the same size as Bradley when he was five months.”  

“He was a big baby,” Maverick replied, missing Emma’s wince. 

“You think that she ever pictured me walking down the aisle in it?” you asked Maverick as Emma finished up with your eye makeup. 

“She was probably hoping that you’d get married first and pregnant second.” 

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” you returned with a shrug of your shoulders, causing you and Maverick to share a quiet laugh. 

“Well, Phoenix bought you a bouquet. And are you wearing a veil?”

“No, it was just another thing to worry about.” 

“Then that should be everything. Do you need anything else before I start rounding everyone up?” Maverick inquired, straightening up. 

“Yeah, actually.” 

“What is it?” 

“Can you help walk me down the aisle?” you asked him, causing Maverick to freeze. 

“Of course, I will,” Maverick promised you.

Emma stepped aside and you slowly stood up to accept Maverick’s tight hug. You returned it, trying not to cry, but Maverick let a few tears slip from his eyes for the both of you. He slowly pulled away, holding you at arm’s length. 

It was hard to believe that the little girl who he remembered learning how to walk, who asked him to help put her tiara on properly, was now pregnant and getting married. Goose’s little girl was all grown up. Carole’s little girl was all grown up. 

And Maverick knew that he was going to cry about it. 

“You’re going to make such a beautiful bride.” 

“Thanks, Mav,” you returned, pulling him in for another tight hug. 

“Alright,” Maverick sniffled, slowly releasing you. He quickly dried some tears before stepping out of the bathroom. “I’m going to go and make sure that everyone’s where they’re supposed to be and leave you to finish getting ready.” 

“Bye, Mav.” 

You waited for him to go before turning back to Emma, who put the final touches on your makeup. Dabbing your lip color a bit more, she smiled and stepped back. 

“There, you’re all set. Let’s get you dressed.” 

~~~~~

Bradley drove you down to Town Hall in the Bronco because it just felt like the proper send off. Accepting his hand, the two of you started walking up to the building. Turning to your brother with a nervous smile as you linked your arms together, you poked him in the side. 

“Can I ask you something, Brad?” 

“Of course, I’ll act as your getaway driver,” he joked, helping you up the stairs. 

“Actually, will you help walk me down the aisle?” you asked him, causing him to pause for a moment. “I asked Maverick to walk me too, but I have two arms.” 

“You’re sure that you want me to walk you down?” Bradley questioned, turning back to the stairs. “I mean, I know I wasn’t the most supportive of you and Jake in the past. And I just offered to be your getaway driver.” 

“I know, but I want you to walk me down. You’re my big brother, Brad.” 

“Are you trying to get me to cry?” Rooster jokingly asked, refusing to look over at you, because he knew that he would actually start crying if he did. “But, of course, I’ll help walk you down the aisle. I promised you when we were kids, didn’t I?” 

“You did.” 

Maverick met the two of you up at the top of the stairs. You looped your other arm through his own and shared smiles with your family before the three of you walked inside Town Hall. They led you through the building and to the ceremony room. Standing in front of the big doors, you took a moment to gather yourself.

“You ready?” Maverick asked you softly, causing you to smile and nod.

“I’m ready.” 

The doors opened and you turned forward to see Jake waiting there for you, dressed in his immaculate dress whites, looking like a dream. There was a small crowd of friends and family, but the two of you were only focused on each other. 

You offered Jake a small smile, letting a few tears drip down that you’d held in for the sake of your makeup. Jake rubbed his chin, trying desperately not to cry himself, but there you were, dressed in a white dress, looking like a goddess with your prominent baby bump where your shared child was growing. 

And he started silently sobbing himself. 

Reaching the end of the aisle, you accepted kisses on your cheeks from both Bradley and Mav before Jake gently took your hand into his own. The two of you stepped up onto the very small stage and faced each other as the officiant began the short service.

You reached up and wiped Jake’s tears away with your hands and as you tried not to cry too many of your own. The two of you repeated your vows clearly and without hesitation as you slipped your wedding bands onto each other’s fingers. Holding hands in front of your closest friends and family, you smiled widely as the officiant got to the end. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. You may—”

Jake’s lips pressed against your own before the officiant even finished his sentence. You smiled into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his shoulders as your friends and family cheered for the two of you. 

“I love you,” you told Jake as he broke away and rested his forehead against your own. 

“I love you too,” he returned softly, stealing another kiss. “My wife.”

~~~~~

“I have a wedding present for you,” you told Jake that night as the two of you laid in bed. 

You rolled to the end of your bed and slowly got up, walking over to your dresser. Jake sat up from his own spot, watching you curiously. 

“You had time to get me something?”

“I picked it up yesterday.” 

Pulling out a simple plain white envelope, you walked over to Jake’s side and sat down beside him. Jake took the envelope from your hand and paused when he saw the logo from your obstetrician’s office. 

“What is this?” he asked you quietly, an edge of concern in his voice. 

“I wanted to wait to find out the baby’s gender until they were born,” you started off with, causing Jake to nod slowly. “But I also want us to be the first two people to find out. And just in case—” 

Your voice broke and you cut yourself off as emotion clogged your throat. Jake quickly swooped in and pulled you in for a hug and a soft kiss. You rested your head against his shoulder, staring down at the envelope as you gathered yourself. 

“It’s your choice, Jake. We can find out now or we can find out when the baby’s born.”

Jake looked down at the simple little white envelope in his hands. You didn’t move to rush him, but you sat up more when Jake pulled the paper out of the envelope. Turning to you, he held out the piece of paper and motioned for you to take the other side. 

“On three,” he stated, causing you to nod. 

The two of you counted down together before you opened it together. Staring at the simple message written there, you let out an incredulous laugh and Jake pressed a series of kisses to your cheek and neck as he pulled you into his lap.

“I knew it,” he breathed out, resting his hand on top of your bump.  

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” you asked him, causing him to shake his head. You let out a bright laugh, some joy returning to you. “We’re having a girl, Jake.” 

“I’ve been telling you,” he insisted, causing you to jokingly nudge him. The two of you shared a soft series of kisses before Jake pulled back. “We’re having a little girl.” 

“She’s going to be a handful.” 

“That was going to be true regardless,” Jake reminded you, causing you to laugh again and sink into his arms once more. “I love you so much.” 

“I love you too.” 

“And I love our daughter so much.” 

“She knows that, Jake,” you replied softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. “She knows.” 

~~~~~

Jake barely slept that night. 

The two of you discussed it the night before and agreed that it would be less stressful on you and the baby for him to leave on his own in the early morning. You said your goodbyes the night before and Jake managed to coax you to sleep after another round of tears and kisses.

Getting up before his alarm, Jake took a quick shower and got dressed in his uniform. His bag was already packed and all he had to do was say goodbye to you and your daughter. 

But that was going to be a difficult process. 

Kneeling on the floor in front of you, Jake rested his hand on your bump and pressed a kiss to your skin before moving his hand around some more. He let a few tears drop as he tried to feel your daughter moving around to no avail. 

“I’ll be back, Baby Girl, alright? I just have to go take care of some things, that’s all.” Jake took a moment and a deep breath before adding, “You’re going to be a good girl for your mom, right? Let her sleep at night and don’t dance on her bladder, okay?” 

Removing his hands from your bump and moving to stand, Jake looked up at your peaceful expression one last time before turning back to your bump. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart. And I’ll be back. Don’t you ever think that I’m abandoning you, okay? I’ll be back.” 

Jake stood up and leaned over to press a soft kiss to your face. Not wanting to risk waking you up, he withdrew and let out a quiet sigh.

“I love you, Honey. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

A few moments after Jake reluctantly left for base, you snuggled into your pillow, still deeply asleep. As you continued to snooze, there was a small press on your skin, like a little fist was waving goodbye, before it slowly sank back down. 

Tags (PRETTY PLEASE have your AGE on your blog or message me about it to be tagged--thank you!):

[If I missed you, don’t feel bad about asking to be tagged again! But please make sure that your age is in your bio/comment/etc. If you see your tag spelled correctly but did not receive a notification, please double check your privacy settings! Thanks!]

@mrsjobarnes @wishiwasacasualfan @bethabear12 @everythingmarveltopgun @hardballoonlove @mavrellover91 @senjoritanana @sophiaslastbraincell @xoxabs88xox @emma8895eb @dempy @harperdoodle @itsmytimetoodream @sarahjoestewy-blog @the-annoying-fan @athenabarnes @midnightmagpiemama @praline357 @sucker4seresin @sunsetsimpsblog @sgt-barnesveins @abaker74 @shanimallina87 @kellyls04 @trickphotography2 @kmc1989 @boiolay @offical-potato @topgun-imagines @caitsymichelle13 @daddymack01 @hangmandruigandmav @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @lilylilyyyyyy @lillunna @bcon24 @ashcosmo @blackwidownat2814 @specialagentjackbauer @imareallygoodlawyersbrick @percysaidnever @silenthappyplace @buckysteveloki-me @havlindzk @hookslove1592 @mamachasesmayhem @aviatorobsessed @marvelogic @ems-alexandra @harrysgothicbitch @shawnsblue @shiara04 @delguersojoy-blog @erindiggory @eloquentdreamer @tomanyfandomstrash

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

   Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

   When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule? 

   Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain. 

   Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

   Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it. 

   If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood. 

   Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie. 

   “Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

   “Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

   Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

   “Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

   “Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly. 

   I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

   “We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

   The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

   I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

   “I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

   “Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome. 

   “Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

   My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

   “Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

   Oh, for the love of God. 

   “Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder. 

   “What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

   But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing. 

   When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

   “Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips. 

   I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

   “Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

   All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach. 

   I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

   “Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor. 

   Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break. 

   “Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

   “As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

   As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors. 

   You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin. 

   Breathe. 

   Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

   Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody. 

   Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

   “Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

   Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention. 

   When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

   Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

   I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

   Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym. 

   Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting. 

   Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse? 

   I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today. 

   Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

   He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit. 

   Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach. 

   “Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

   “Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that. 

   I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

   “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over. 

   “Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

   “But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

   “Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.” 

   My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach. 

   Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face. 

   “Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

   “Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

   I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

   She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory. 

   With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life. 

   A life that I won’t be in.

   I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

   Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

   Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

   Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me. 

   Shit. Almost had it.

   “Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

   “What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

   “Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.  

   “My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

   “Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

   “I was quick enough,” I snap.

   “Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

   God. Those fucking eyes.

    “Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

   “I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

   I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

   Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

   I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.”

   “You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

   “Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively. 

   “We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth. 

   I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks. 

   Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

   This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Hello! I was wondering if you could write hcs for how everyone would be at a carnival?? Thank you<3

The Best of All Amenities (All x MC/Reader - Carnival/Amusement Park HCs)

I'M BACK MOTHERFUCKERS >:D

Hello my beloved Anon, I hope you have an awesome day/night! <33 Thanks for letting me write this for you, and I'm sorry for the extreme lateness of this. I'm on my knees right now forgive me Anon raaaa.

Btw I'm getting back into the habit of writing so cut me some slack for this one. I'm also not experienced with carnivals at all so I apologise for potential inaccuracies my dear. </33

Post-Completion A/N: I just realised this said carnival instead of fucking amusement park I'm so done. I tried to make it work for both I'm sorry Anonnie. i'm sorry but have this anywayy because i've never been to a carnival and don't know what the hell goes on there and also I am kinda silly and if this is inaccurate I apologise

T.W.: Mentions of vomiting.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Amenities: something that helps to provide comfort, convenience, or enjoyment. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Brittney is a walking carnival let's be real.

Like her hair screams classic circus-tent except the white and red is pink and blue.

Would get cotton candy and judgmentally eat it while surveying the rides.

Y'all would be going around looking at everything.

She's probably gonna try to not get on anything because she's shitting herself at the thought of getting on a coaster frfr "not bothered".

Will carry iced coffee around, she somehow has an endless surplus of coffee. It's genuinely terrifying.

You both will wander around and gossip, along with judging the outfits of everyone else like it's a fashion strip.

Will get angry af if the line takes too long.

Will get on at least 1 ride out of spite, ends up almost vomiting. "Never again."

Y'all are paparazzi tho like shit's crazy with how many photos you both take of each other. shame it ain't the kinky kind

Deryl would go berserk. Like this boy will literally lose his marbles from joy.

If you invite him to any gathering, amusement park, carnival (hell any park at all), this boy will be dragging you everywhere.

Indecisive about where to go.

Very indecisive about what to eat. he'll harass you for food teehee

Is the type to get really excited about rollercoasters, until it's your turns to go on one.

In that case he'll start panicking.

You'll have to convince him he's not gonna die.

Will be quaking in his boots from fear.

Don't worry he gets on the ride anyway. Especially if he gets one from you after.

Will just be having a blast despite the terror tbh.

Will not go into any haunted house tho.

Like he will sprint out of there.

You'll have to run after him so he won't get lost lmfao.

Will expect emotional support from you after.

You both have a massive ton of fun tho prepare for more bedroom edition fun later.

Jess will be sceptical.

Don't get her wrong, she'd love to go.

But she's shy and a massive homebody.

and can't socialise to save her life

When you both get there, she'll be overwhelmed by the amount of people.

Sorry broski you're gonna have to do the talking.

Will be scared af of the rides, will clutch onto you for dear life.

May be the type to silently vanish and reappear because she's a midget often caught up in staring at venues and looking at things.

Will be the type to just cling to you tbh

She's either glued to you or unstick so hard and fast she'll teleport to the other side of the planet.

You'll probs take photos tbh, she does have an internet influence.

Y'all will be discussing each others' fav idols and celebs over desserts.

And of course loving each other's company and hopefully bodies.

Crowe will be happy to go wherever with you.

So he'll def be willing to do anything at this entertainment complex.

Yáll are probs gonna grab some snacks and take more mellow rides tbh.

He doesn't seem the type to like really violent ones.

Will probably be the type to just observe you go on a ride.

Will also take photos. He wants to admire you remember this day. <33

Will hold your drinks as well.

Will just serve as your porter and server let's be real.

He'll def go on the more chill rides tho.

Will even let his hair down to feel the wind. >:]

and also so you can pull it ngh

10/10 hair pulling sesh would do again yeehaw

You both have an epic day together. Time for an even sexier night

Hyugo would have already been dragging you places.

So when he stumbles upon the existence of this place, you bet he's taking you there.

Y'all are gonna be fucking parading around.

He's gonna just *point* somewhere and you're going.

Like it's not even a question or a debate.

He'll have a maniacal grin on his face while doing it too.

i'm scared send help

shawty getting a tad cray cray here

You're going on a ride hehe and he's gonna stare ahead very intently, grip the steel bar and have a very spoopy grin on his face.

Has a blast.

Y'all go everywhere, you make time for everything.

He'll shoot people in the line to make sure you have time teehee

y'all wont get arrested cause his daddy's got money

Oh. And candy.

You both eat all the candy.

You both also spend like 2 hours vomiting because of how much candy you had.

10/10 would puke guts out again.

But you both genuinely just have a blast. Shame it ain't a blast of smth white and sticky.

Geo will spawn at the venue with the most monotone expression ever. he's still shocked you invited him teehee

Will recoil at the sight of the massive crowds, will probably drag you off somewhere quieter.

Alas there aren't that many 'quiet' places to go to, so he'll grow to tolerate it (because of you and only you).

Will be the type to order food that he knows you like felt like getting, gives it to you anyway.

Will not be caught dead going on a ride, the screaming irritates him too much.

Unless you beg enough, then he'll do one of his choosing. (it's the most violent one because he wants you to stop calling him a scaredy-cat).

Will be dead silent the whole time, gets off unfazed AF (he'll be hiding his nausea dwdw).

Will also probably hide his face because...his influence, his reputation, (his beautiful sexy face), the fucking paparazzi.

Will probably try to make you go somewhere else with him after, like a cafe or smth, somewhere 'peaceful'.

Does enjoy himself though, will probably not admit it due to...pride.

Only thing is; nowhere's more peaceful than your bed teehee

Sol literally will be squealing with joy if you ask him to go anywhere with you.

This man is too down bad to live.

May or may not buy ice cream so he can watch you sensually lick it.

This bastard will 110% enter any form of haunted house just to see if you'd (hopefully) cling to him.

Will end up clutching your hand either way. <333

Everything is on him, like. E v e r y t h i n g. even you!!

You can't pay for anything, 'tis illegal.

Will be the type to just sit on a ride and hold back a smile because he's not bothered to scream like everyone else (he hates it when people do that, will probs wear headphones for the noise), so he'll just sit there and quietly rejoice.

Will bring his own food beforehand, in case you both don't wanna spend money on the stupidly expensive food there.

Is genuinely happy af tho, this guy will do whatever you want, win whatever you want.

Also will threaten people to move out of the line if they're holding it up or something.

Has no shame.

And that's okay.

Because the shameful things he does in the bedroom is more than enough to balance it out. ;)

You both have a banger time tho. *claps approvingly*

[hyperactively-me]

What about her being jealous? There's a new servant who clearly has a crush on the king, and he's flattered that she’s jealous. He doesn't even hide his smirk and teases her

king!ghost x princess!reader au

hell yea bestie

Oh. my. God. That grating, high-pitched voice. You couldn’t take it anymore.

Any time you had been seen with Simon, the new servant in the castle would always approach you two and very clearly flirt with Simon. It was becoming extremely irritating, having them constantly peering over your shoulder. At first, you had thought they were like any other new servant: in awe of the castle, excited, and just all-around curious. Now, a week and a half has passed, and around that time is when servants usually grow accustomed to their life in the castle. Although, this was not the case for this one particular servant. 

The next few days felt like an unrelenting stream of irritation. The persistent servant seemed to have mastered the art of impeccable timing. Every encounter with Simon was marred by their unwelcome presence, and their high-pitched voice became a constant reminder of your growing frustration.

One afternoon, as you and Simon pored over documents, the servant appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Their overly enthusiastic greeting grated on your nerves like nails on a chalkboard. 

You try your best to not cringe at the voice, shaking your head slightly to focus on your papers. 

“One could get lost in all these papers, your majesty!” they exclaimed, their eyes fixed on Simon as they clasped their hands in front of them. 

They turn to you. “Isn't it fortunate to have such a handsome king to make sense of it all?”

That comment makes you snap up from your papers. 

You clenched your jaw, struggling to maintain your composure. Simon, seemingly engrossed in the documents, responded with a curt nod. “Indeed. We are quite busy at the moment. Is there anything the matter?” he questions, patience already wearing thin. 

They ignore the hint and take a step closer to Simon, their voice dripping with faux innocence. “Oh, but your majesty, I was thinking perhaps I could assist in any way. Maybe a…fresh perspective would help to clear your head?” 

The nerve of this person to insinuate such things right in front of you. Your patience wore thin, and you interjected, “There is no need for your help. We are perfectly capable of managing our affairs,” you say, your tone polite but laced with a subtle warning. You shoot a pointed look at the intruding servant, hoping they would catch on. 

Undeterred, they flash a flirtatious smile at Simon. “Of course, your majesty. But you know, two heads are better than one. And with such a charming head, who could resist?” They winked, a gesture that nearly makes you roll your eyes.

Before Simon can say anything, you stand up abruptly, knocking your pen off the table.

“I command you to leave us,” you say as calmly as you can, your voice dangerously low. 

The servant's smile falters for a moment, but they quickly recover. “Of course, your majesty. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to call for me,” they say with a lingering gaze at Simon before finally leaving the room.

The door closes, and you let out a frustrated sigh, shooting an exasperated look at Simon.

“You’re jealous.” 

“Huh?”

“You’re jealous,” Simon states plainly. 

Your eyes widen at Simon's assertion, a mixture of surprise and irritation flashing across your face. “I am not jealous,” you retort, crossing your arms defensively.

Simon grins, finding amusement in the situation. “Oh, come on now, darlin’. It's rather cute.”

You scowl at him, the frustration of the situation now directed at your husband. "This is not a laughing matter, Simon."

Simon leans back in his chair, still wearing that teasing grin of his. “Well, maybe it's not funny to you, but I can't help but find it a bit... endearing," Simon says, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“And y’know, you’re rather attractive when you’re jealous,” he lowers his voice, smirking at you. He clasps his hands behind his head to stare at you unabashedly. 

Your mouth flounders for a moment, caught off guard by Simon's unexpected compliment. Despite your annoyance, a faint warmth creeps onto your cheeks. 

“Okay, fine, maybe I’m a tiny bit jealous,” you reply, trying to maintain a stern expression.

Simon chuckles, seemingly enjoying the effect his words had on you. “Alright, alright, no more teasing. I'll have someone talk to them and make sure this gets sorted out.”

You nod, appreciating his assurance. “Thank you, Si.” 

As you both resume your work, a comfortable silence settles between you. He hooks his foot under your chair and pulls you closer next to him, eliciting a small squeak from you as you’re dragged across the floor. 

You press your shoulder against his arm, humming at the proximity.

Simon, still grinning, steals glances at you from behind his papers.

- - - - -

(masterlist)

[projectionistwrites]

FOR SCIENCE | SUBJECT 3

In which the Moon Knight alter system presents a unique opportunity to settle the nature versus nurture debate, once and for all...

Jake Lockley x afab!psychologist!reader (13.0k+)

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+, mdni) WARNINGS: fetishization of mental disorders (DID), psychoanalysis, potentially unethical scientific practices, SMUT (dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f! and m!receiving), unprotected p in v sex, doggystyle, spanking, mean!Jake, degradation, dacryphilia, daddy/papi kink, cum eating, creampie, soft sex, needy/touch-starved!Jake, praise kink, dirty talk), lots of spanish NOTES: jake lockley deserves so much love. this was hard to write, i had so much i wanted to put into this chapter and i hope it all came through okay. also, i am not a native spanish speaker, but i worked really hard to make sure all of my conjugations/phrases were correct, but still, feel free to correct me! this is the final case study installment of this series, there will be one final concluding chapter (+ potentially a bonus part bc i’m feeling generous) DISCLAIMER: although i’m incredibly knowledgeable about psychology, i am NOT a professional. all psychoanalyses made throughout the course of this storyline are entirely my own, based on my own interpretations of the characters. in a similar vein, i am also not an expert on DID specifically (although i am well-read on mental disorders and diagnoses), so i apologize for any incorrect terminology or misrepresentation. don’t hesitate to call me out if i say something wrong!

← previous part | next part →

CASE STUDY: JAKE LOCKLEY

ROLE IN COGNITIVE SYSTEM: Protector

ATTACHMENT STYLE: Dismissive

CHARACTERISTICS: volatile, tenacious, arrogant, cunning, reticent; a true adrenaline junkie (engages in risky behavior in an attempt to fill his emotional deficit with a brief but intense adrenaline rush); extremely autonomous.

SPLIT FROM HOST: ??? currently unknown/unconfirmed (predicted to have emerged as a result of some feeling of physical inadequacy or repeated threats to safety; may potentially trace back to host's service in the military).

TRAUMA RESPONSE: thinks every hill is one to die on; unwilling to compromise or make sacrifices in fear of revealing vulnerability; maintains face no matter the consequence.

SEXUAL PRESENTATION: demanding, excitable, impetuous, unapologetic, aggressive; unafraid to take what he wants, but uncomfortable with affection.

Your heart was picking up speed as you knocked loudly against the door for the fifth time.

Surely he was inside. Where the hell else would he be? You’d texted with him just hours before—well, technically not Jake, since he refused to use a phone, but Marc—confirming that you were still good for your previously scheduled arrangement. Had he changed his mind? Did something happen?

Your anxiety got the better of you as you fished around in your jacket pocket to pull out your keyring. Steven had given you a copy of the key to their flat in case you ever needed it, or if you wanted to come over before he got home from work. You had yet to actually use it, but you figured this constituted as enough of an emergency to warrant your uninvited entrance.

You clumsily slipped the brass into the keyhole and jiggled it, twisting it until you heard the click of the lock. You silently prayed that Jake—or whoever was fronting—hadn’t engaged any of the other locks on the door that could only be unhinged from the inside. Fortunately for you, the knob twisted and the door swung open with ease, revealing the familiarity of the flat within.

It was... quiet. Not eerily so, but enough to make you proceed with caution. Everything appeared to be in order, undisturbed and in its place, but still, you felt a sense of uneasiness crawl up your spine.

You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, though. You often felt this way when you were in the company of Jake. You enjoyed his presence, and wanted to get to know him better, but still, he was unpredictable and volatile—you never knew what to expect when he was fronting. You couldn’t read him as well as the other two alters, and as someone who had an affinity for picking up on unspoken emotional cues, you weren't particularly fond of the element of surprise.

You heard a low buzz from somewhere off to your right, and as the door clicked shut behind you, you wandered towards the source of the noise on the other side of the apartment. As you grew closer, you recognized the previously indiscernible sound—humming.

“...Jake?”

You called out softly, and just as rounded the edge of the bookshelf that separated the living space from the bedroom, the door to the bathroom flew open.

The man in question strolled through the doorway, steam billowing behind him, whistling to himself, but he froze when he saw you standing before him. He quickly recovered from his initial shock, however.

“Bebita. Looks like you need to work on your patience.”

He teased, and you felt your mouth run dry as you took in his appearance. He’d clearly just finished up in the shower—there were still droplets of water rolling down his shoulders and the toned skin of his chest and abdomen, trailing southbound where a white towel hung lowly on his hips. You could see the dark hair of his happy trail against his navel, the towel very loosely covering his modesty. His hair was wet and tussled, curls falling across his forehead, and you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t one of the most attractive sights you’d ever seen in your life.

Much to your chagrin, he seemed to pick up on the effect that his appearance had on you. You watched as his lips curled into a devilish grin, staring at you with a depraved look in his deep brown eyes that only Jake was capable of.

“Why—Why didn’t you answer the door?”

Your voice wavered slightly, betraying you in your attempt to appear collected. His head tilted slightly in question.

“Because...I was in the shower.”

Oh. Right.

You swallowed, lips downturned into a small frown, suddenly feeling sheepish at your previous concern for his safety. However, your focus returned to Jake as he slinked forward, taking a few slow, deliberate steps in your direction.

“You’re blushing, mi vida. Am I making you nervous?”

You unconsciously shook your head at his question, although you could feel your heart racing in your chest as he drew closer to you.

“No? Hm, that’s a shame. I could’ve sworn I saw you staring at my cock.”

He paused when only a foot and a half remained between you, and you felt your face grow even redder at his statement. As much as you tried to resist, as much as you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction, your gaze involuntarily flickered down to glance at his crotch—you could see the outline of his hardening member through the soft material of the towel, more prominent than it had been even a few seconds prior.

A dark chuckle escaped him, and you forced your gaze back onto his face. He was grinning wickedly, gazing at you with a carnal gleam in his eye.

“Está bien, bebita. I know how much you like it. That’s why you rushed in here, isn’t it? Didn’t want to wait for papi’s cock any longer?”

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your jaw fell slack at the nickname he assigned to himself—you felt your knees grow weak. Just as you’d said—unpredictable. You certainly hadn’t expected that.

But fuck, you really liked it.

His smirk turned into a toothy grin as he observed your reaction to his taunt. One more step towards you and you were only a short distance apart. You could see moisture congregating in the divot of his collarbone, and you desperately wanted to lick at the pooled water.

“Are you going to be good for me, bebita?”

You nodded dumbly at him, any cohesive thought escaping from your brain as all you could perceive was Jake, Jake, Jake. He parroted your senseless nodding, mocking you condescendingly. Without another word, he dropped the towel from his waist and it pooled around his ankles, exposing his fully-erect member to your sight, and you swooned.

His tongue traced over his lower lip sensually, looking at you through hooded eyes. A shadow crossed his face as his mouth contorted into a sneer.

“Get on your knees.”

You obeyed before you even consciously processed the command, collapsing onto your knees before him, your abrupt fall cushioned by his discarded towel. Your mouth watered as you became eye-level with the hardness of his cock, the vein beneath the underside of his shaft just begging for your attention. You resisted, instead opting to stare up at Jake’s face expectantly, awaiting further instruction. It was clear to you that he liked to be in control.

He smirked at your complacency, his hand reaching up to lazily stroke his cock a few times, watching the way your eyes followed the movement of his hands with laser focus, your lips slightly parted in anticipation. He tilted his hips forward and slapped your cheeks with the ruddy head of his cock a few times, and you whimpered at the action, eyes squeezed shut tightly with restraint.

“Stick out your tongue for me, bebita.”

You obliged, opening your mouth wide and letting your tongue loll out past your lips. He tapped his length against the slick muscle, and you savored the familiar tang of his precum on your tastebuds as he pulled back to fist at his cock again. You whined as he withdrew from you, but he just tutted at you condescendingly, slapping your cheek once more with his member.

“Oh, pobrecita. You want papi to let you play with his cock?”

You nodded feverishly, staring up at him through your lashes, doe-eyed. He pouted his lip out in a look of mock pity before removing his hand from his length.

“Go on, then, bebita.”

You lurched forward, your tongue flexing to lick a long stripe on the underside of his cock, tracing the jagged vein that had enticed you earlier. He hummed at the action, watching as you eagerly lifted your hands to begin slowly pumping the velvety skin of his shaft, your lips suctioning around the flushed tip and tongue dipping into the slit. A low groan rumbled deep within his chest as you bobbed your head, eyes never leaving his face as you studied each reaction he had to your movements.

“There you go, mi vida. So good for papi.”

You moaned around his cock at the repeated use of the title, and he chuckled at your obvious approval, one hand finally reaching up to card through your hair as you continued to work more of his length into your mouth.

“You gonna let papi fuck your pretty little mouth, hm?”

He pulled his hips back, removing his member from your touch and you gasped in a breath. You nodded in response to his question, opening your mouth expectantly, and he all but laughed at your eagerness.

“You want it bad, huh, bebita? You gonna ask nicely?”

“Please, papi.”

The word sounded foreign on your tongue, but your discomfort melted away when you saw Jake’s cock jump at the sound of your desperate pleading and he threw his head back in satisfaction.

“Please, fuck my face. Want to feel you in my throat. Please.”

He seemed satisfied with your begging as he wrapped both of his hands in your hair, tilting your head upward and guiding your towards his awaiting length. When your hands reached up to rest on his thighs, he pulled back, hissing at you.

“No, mi vida. Hands behind your back. Don’t make me tell you again.”

You clasped your hands behind yourself obediently, opening your mouth again, and you finally felt the fat tip of his cock rest against your tongue.

You practically choked when he harshly thrusted into your mouth, sinking nearly his entire length into your throat without warning. Before you could even recover, he was pulling back and repeating the motion, not giving you any time to adjust to the intrusion or ease you into a rhythm. You gagged unceremoniously as he fucked your face with reckless abandon, so you tried to slacken your jaw and just take it.

“Look at you, mi llorica. So beautiful when you cry for me, with my cock in your mouth.”

You could barely see him through the blur of tears as they rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the saliva that was foaming around your lips and dribbling down your chin. He picked up his pace, grunting with each motion, the head of his cock bruising the back of your throat with every forward thrust. He was guiding your head forward and backward in time with his movements, successfully burying himself into your face.

“You want me to cum down your throat, bebita? Going to take everything papi gives you?”

You garbled around his length as his balls slapped against your chin, and you felt his cock throb on your tongue as he sheathed himself completely inside of you, growling out your name as he shot his load as deep into your throat as he could. Still, he challenged you more, forcing himself further and further down your throat with each spurt of cum that he released, your nose smushed against his pubic bone as you swallowed around him, trying with all of your might to prevent yourself from gagging and ruining his orgasm.

With a satisfied groan, he slowly pulled his spent member from your mouth, and you gasped harshly, sucking in a deep breath of air and finally allowing the muscles of your neck to relax. There was a soreness lingering in the back of your throat, but you relished in the feeling as you wiped the mix of spit and tears from your face with the back of your hand, staring up at the fucked-out expression that Jake offered you.

“Did so well for me, bebita. What do you say to papi?”

There was an edge to his tone, his domineering persona not faltering for even a second as your scratchy voice responded accordingly.

“Thank you, papi.”

He nodded at you approvingly, watching as you blinked up at him expectantly. He was pleasantly surprised at just how quickly you’d fallen into submission—he thought he might have to coax you into cooperating with him, but it was clear to him that you were eager to please, your eyes glistening with residual tears from one of the best goddamned blowjobs he’d ever had in his life.

He leaned down and clasped his hands on your shoulders, yanking you to your feet without a word. You saw his eyes flicker down to your swollen, spit-soaked lips, but his gaze was hard as he took a step away from you, as if to resist the temptation to kiss you.

“Strip. Hands and knees, on the bed for me. Now, bebita.”

You didn’t protest as you hastily heeded his words, shedding your layers of clothing and tossing them to the floor before you scampered back towards the bed, crawling to your hands and knees in the center, head facing towards the pillows. You could hear Jake creeping up behind you, but you resisted the urge to turn your head and follow his movements, opting instead to squeeze your eyes shut and wait.

You weren’t afraid of Jake. Of course you weren’t. You knew he’d never hurt you—not unless you wanted him to. Nonetheless, you knew what he was capable of—actually, that was the thing. You didn’t know what he was capable of, but still, you could see the thinly-veiled chaos that swirled behind his coffee-colored irises, could sense the firm restraint he forced upon himself when he was around you, holding some unnamed beast at bay on your behalf. It scared you, but also sparked something inside of you—a primitive, savage excitement as he stalked you like his prey. Was it wrong if you secretly hoped he’d unleash the mayhem that resided within him, let himself go? God only knows the man deserved an outlet in which to channel his frustrations.

You felt the mattress dip down behind you, Jake kneeling on the bed behind your bowed position—your nerves spiked at the vulnerability you displayed, exposed as you practically felt his eyes tear through your body with crazed, wanton desire.

You were surprised to feel a soft caress on your hips, his rough fingers delicately ghosting over the supple skin on your waist. It was comforting, soothing, and surprising—a needed reassurance under his scrutinizing gaze. You felt his lips brush softly against the tender flesh of your left buttock, and you relaxed slightly, letting yourself sink down to your forearms but keeping your ass raised with the arching of your back.

“Are you ready, mi vida?”

He asked quietly, and you managed to squeak out a small ‘yes’ before sinking further into the bed and shifting your hips backs toward him in anticipation. He chuckled at your obvious eagerness, greedy for his touch, and you startled when his tender hold on your hips tightened into a bruising grip, the soft press of his lip to your left asscheek morphing until he was sinking his teeth into the flesh with a playful nip.

You yelped at the abrupt shift in demeanor, the sound earning you a sharp smack to your other cheek, his palm quickly rubbing the afflicted area to soothe the lingering sting of his spanking. You pressed your forehead into the sheet beneath you, your legs beginning to quiver with desperation.

“You’re going to stay like this, and take what I give you. Don’t move. ¿Vale, bebita?”

You nodded, but were met with another harsh swat on your backside at your lack of a verbal confirmation.

“Yes! Okay, papi, okay. Just—please.”

You were practically dripping onto the mattress beneath you, your arousal slickening your needy cunt as you desperately sought out any stimulation.

The pads of his fingers experimentally swiped through your folds without warning, and you jolted, involuntarily pushing your hips back to follow the withdrawal of his touch. Another firm slap against your opposite asscheek, a whimper escaping your lips as he scolded you.

“Stay still, bebita. Stop squirming.”

His order briefly brought you back to your first time with Marc, who had requested the same thing, but the words felt heavier when they were uttered by Jake—you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to find a way to make you comply.

When his fingers made contact with your core again, you clenched your muscles, forcing yourself to remain completely motionless, and you were rewarded with the tip of his digit just barely skimming over your clit. You whined at the sensation, but held your position.

Jake was pleased with your cooperation, but you couldn’t help but quake when you felt his tongue sweep through your folds to taste you. The spank he offered was softer, taking pity on you as he leaned forward and fully sank his mouth into your awaiting cunt. You mewled, fingers twisting into the fabric of the sheets beneath you and fisting at them tightly in an effort to keep still.

He was moaning shamelessly into your sex, his method tactless, sloppy and rushed. His movements weren’t practiced and deliberate like Marc’s, nor careful and precise like Steven’s—no, Jake was eating you out like a man starved, greedily mouthing at every part of you and reveling in the sounds that escaped your lips.

His hand lifted and he sank two fingers into your entrance, curling them forward frantically as his mouth latched onto your clit. He was working you to your orgasm quickly, hurriedly, desperate to feel you clamp down around him and cry out his name.

Your thighs were beginning to tremble. He must’ve sensed you were close, because he doubled his efforts, the vibrations from his growling buzzing through your flesh and pushing you over the precipice. On its own accord, your body lurched back towards him, your cunt grinding back against his face as your eyes rolled, your walls contracting around his digits and your juices leaking onto his awaiting tongue.

You felt dizzy, faint, your efforts to hold yourself upright through your climax exhausted you, and when you came down from your intense high, you felt Jake draw himself away from you, slow and intimidating. You felt your pulse spike as you awaited whatever came next. His large hand caressed your ass, gently smoothing over your soft flesh in back-and-forth motions.

“Sabe a miel, bebita. Such a pretty little pussy.”

His touch on your skin halted, and you felt his body lean over your back, his lips coming to brush against the nape of your neck.

“But you didn’t follow my instructions, pobrecita. You need to learn how to listen.”

You cried out when his hand swatted at your abused clit, your body jumping at the painful sensation in an attempt to escape his cruel attack. You felt one arm snake beneath your stomach to hold you upright, his forearm pressing your hips back towards him and keeping you there.

“I let you cum, even after you moved when I told you not to. Do you like being a brat, hm?”

You shook your head—another smack to your cunt, and you whimpered.

“No! No, m’sorry, papi, I—”

“Don’t you think I’ve been generous? Spoiling you? And still, you’re ungrateful, bebita.”

Your body flinched in preparation for the next blow, but instead, you felt his lips tenderly brush a kiss to the flesh of your ass.

“Compórtate. I think I need to teach you how to mind your manners.”

He slapped your ass again, harder than before, and you could feel the lingering sting forming a welt across your skin. He hummed.

“What do you say to papi, hm? For being so good to you?”

“Thank you, papi.”

You whimpered, tears starting to dampen the sheets beneath your face. Your appreciation earned you a soothing hand across the flesh he'd just struck.

“That’s right. Five more times, bebita.”

You sobbed in protest, body trying to pull away from him, but his arm wrapped around your torso forced you into place. He cooed at you.

“It’s okay, pobrecita. You’re going to say thank you after every single one, and then papi will fuck you. ¿Sí?”

He didn’t wait for your response. He smacked your clit, the sting burning its way through your lower belly. You choked back another sob.

“Th—thank you, papi.”

You stuttered, voice barely audible from where your cheek was smushed into the bedding, but Jake took pity on you. Two, three, four more times—the final blow landed sharply against your cunt, and you whimpered out your gratitude, eyes squeezed shut tight and your lip starting to freckle with blood from where you’d held it between your teeth.

He placed gentle kisses on your lower back, your ass, as far as he could reach, his arm still supporting your weight while the other came to softly smooth over your hip. Your mind was cloudy, your body completely surrendering to Jake’s will as you descended into subspace, clinging to his approval.

“You want my cock, mi vida?”

He asked gruffly, and you could feel his hardened length prod against your behind as he leaned further over you to press more kisses on your shoulders. You whined.

“Yes, papi, please, want you inside me, please—”

He shushed you calmly, sitting back to kneel behind you. He lifted your hips higher in the air with his arm, and you felt the flushed head of his cock brush across your soaked folds once, then twice. You mewled.

Without warning, Jake sank into you, bottoming out with one harsh stroke as his balls pressed against your puffy clit. You cried out, legs turning to jelly and giving out from beneath you, but he held you upright, keeping you stable in his arms.

“Mierda. Your little cunt is swallowing me, bebita.”

He withdrew slowly, and you could feel each ridge of his length as he pulled out until just the tip remained. Even though you braced yourself, you couldn’t prepare for the way he slammed back into you, his pelvis flush against your tailbone as you cried, pleasure sparking at the bottom of your spine in spite of the pain.

Jake’s pace was relentless, unforgiving, hips snapping forward over and over, the sound of skin slapping skin drowned out by your pathetic sobbing as your walls throbbed around his member. His teeth were bared as he railed into you, intently watching the place his cock was splitting you open.

“Carajo, you’re squeezing me so tight—going to cum for you, bebita.”

He practically growled as he speared you, and another orgasm was ripped from you with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips. Your cunt clamped down around him as he let out a long, low whine, hips stuttering at the sensation.

He let you collapse into the bed as he began frantically jerking his cock, pulling out of you just in time to shoot his load all across the reddening flesh of your ass. He let out a series of grunts, coupled with Spanglish expletives as he thrusted into his fist, his head thrown back in bliss. You felt globs of his hot spend settle onto your skin, streaking your backside with his seed as he panted above you, falling back onto his heels as he drank in the aftermath of his intense orgasm that was now painting your skin.

The moments that followed blurred together as you drifted aimlessly in the wakes of your pleasure, eyes fluttering in their attempt to keep you awake. Jake left you for several minutes, the absence of his body heat making goosebumps erupt across your skin, but you were too exhausted to move.

When he finally returned, you felt him softly dab the remnants of his ejaculate from your back before he gently shifted you onto your back, tucking an arm beneath your knees and the other around your shoulders as he hoisted you into the air. You whimpered slightly at the soreness in your muscles, your head falling limp against his bare shoulder as he carried you off. You weren’t consciously aware of your surroundings, but the sensation of warm water surrounding you helped ease the ache in your bones and clear the haze that had overtaken your mind. Jake gently lowered you into the bathtub, carefully tilting your head back to rest against the ceramic edge as you let out a relieved sigh, sinking into the welcoming heat of the water.

You felt as if you’d only blinked when you awoke, the water around you now lukewarm and the candle that had been burning beside you melted to the wick. You shifted yourself upward, hissing slightly at the soreness in your thighs, but you forced yourself to stand and exit the tub.

Silence surrounded you as you leaned to pull the plug from the drain before you noticed the plush white towel that had been folded neatly and left on the lid of the toilet for you. You gratefully reached it and wrapped it around your body, noticing the pruning of your fingertips.

How long had you been asleep?

You tentatively creaked open the bathroom door and peered outside into the apartment. It was dark, and empty, for all you could see, and you took a few cautious steps out into the room.

“Jake?”

You said softly, your soft call sounding much too loud in the quiet of the space. You proceeded forward towards the bed, shrouded only in light from the single lamp that was lit from across the way. Your clothes had been folded neatly and left in a pile at the foot of the bed, and you saw a small piece of paper settled on top. A note.

You picked it up and scanned it over once, then twice. You could tell this was Jake’s handwriting—it was a messy scrawl with an evident slant, the letters each written harshly with sharp lines. It was different from Steven’s languid scribbling, his words swirling together with smooth, clean strokes, and also from Marc’s, whose blocky penmanship was unmistakable. You couldn’t marvel at the fact that all three alters had markedly distinct handwriting, though, too focused on the content of the message to give it a second thought.

Went out for a drive Text when you get home See you tomorrow.

JAKE

You frowned slightly, heart feeling heavy in your chest as you forced yourself into your clothes. You checked the time—11:28. You’d conked out for nearly two hours, and you wondered how long ago Jake had stepped out. Was he waiting for your text in order to come back home? Waiting for you to leave so he didn’t have to see you?

You had absolutely no right to be upset, you knew. You should be grateful that he was sticking to his ordinary routine after your sexual encounter in honor of your experiment, but still, a pang of hurt bloomed in your chest. You briefly returned to the bathroom to blow out the flickering lavender candle before heading out the door, your legs wobbly as you trekked the two blocks back to your own apartment.

It was nearly midnight when you finally got home. You reached for your phone and shot the boys a brief message.

made it back safely x

A response came in barely thirty seconds later.

I'm so sorry Y/N He shouldn't have done this to you M

You fell into your bed immediately, eyes skimming Marc’s words, your lips pursing slightly. You let out a long sigh before typing your reply.

it's ok marc, i promise he didn’t do anything wrong i had a nice bath! :) tell jake i said goodnight xx

You connected your phone to the charger before setting it on the nightstand, quickly turning over and sinking into your pillow, trying to ignore the tears that were stinging the back of your eyes.

Your phone buzzed with a final message.

Sleep well baby Hope you give him hell tomorrow M

POINTS OF CONTENTION:

- slowing down

- embracing vulnerability and confiding in others

- accepting intimacy and allowing raw emotion

TREATMENT: - patience, foreplay - allowing himself to feel - aftercare (!)

You were, in fact, not going to give him Hell. Just the opposite, actually.

Jake spent too much of his time letting his demons possess him. Perhaps he needed a little taste of Heaven to show him what he's missing.

“Hi, Jake.”

You greeted shyly when the door swung inward. He leaned against the doorframe slightly, looking at you down the length of his nose. He didn’t say anything—just watched you. Studied you. Observing. After a few brief moments, you cleared your throat.

“Can I—uh, can I come in?”

A beat passed before he finally sidled back into the apartment, opening the door just enough to let you slip inside. Your side brushed against his front when you passed him, and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke clung to his white shirt. Oh, Steven would be livid.

You didn’t wait for an invitation before plopping down on one end of the sofa. Jake quirked a brow at your forwardness, and you signaled with the jerk of your head for him to join you on the other end. He offered a slow, dramatic roll of his eyes before seating himself beside you.

“What time did you get home last night?”

You asked quietly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avoided his gaze. He breathed out a slow breath.

“Not too late. Hardly slept, though—your boyfriend wasn’t very happy with me. Kept me up all night, nagging at me.”

You frowned, finally noticing the deep purplish bags that had settled beneath his eyes. His curls were spilling out from beneath the brim of his flat cap.

“I’m sorry, Jake. Marc isn’t s’posed to be bothering you—it’s your weekend.”

He waved a dismissive hand, turning to settle further into the couch as he stared at some point straight ahead of him.

“No pasa nada. I’m used to it.”

He shifted in his seat slightly, his brows furrowing, and you could tell that he was receiving an earful from Marc.

“I’m—I guess I’m sorry, mi vida, if I upset you.”

You shook your head derisively.

“No, Jake, it’s—you’re fine. That’s what I asked you to do—treat me like any other girl.”

He let out a humorless bark of a laugh, knuckles rubbing over the stubbled skin of his jaw.

“Any other girl wouldn’t have gotten to see my bed, bebita.”

He noticed the perplexed look on your face and offered a sigh.

“It’s not...often, that I sleep with anyone like this. Usually it’s in the back of my cab, or a quick one in a closet—tienes suerte, mi vida. It’s rare they ever see me a second time.”

You felt a deep sadness wash over you at his confession. All Jake knew were rushed, meaningless hookups, no strings attached and no obligations. One and done.

“Is that why you didn’t kiss me, yesterday?”

Jake looked startled by your question, eyes widening marginally as his brows furrowed deeply. His lips set into a straight line, his jaw clenching tightly.

“I did kiss you. A lot.”

He insisted softly. You shook your head.

“No, Jake. A real kiss. You wouldn’t do it. Are—Is that not usually a part of your... you know?”

His knee began anxiously bouncing, his discomfort making itself evident to you.

“No sé. Never really thought about it before.”

You stood from the couch, and his stare followed your movements sharply as you crossed the short distance between you, stepping forward to stand between his spread legs. He looked up at you with dark, brooding eyes, uncertainty churning just beneath the surface. You slowly moved to sit on his lap, your thighs slotting on either side of his hips so you were straddling him. His hands mindlessly settled on your waist, his touch timid and delicate. Your fingers smoothed over his chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Can I kiss you, Jake?”

His lips silently parted, a flash of fear briefly flickering over his features as he gazed up at you longingly. His nervousness was palpable, his hesitancy evident through the tension in his shoulders and the crease between his brow. He didn’t offer you a response, so you carefully began leaning your face towards him, tilting your head so your nose brushed against his. You felt his stuttering exhale fan out across your face before you finally let your lips brush over his own.

It was soft, and tentative, as if he was unsure of how to respond or worried he would somehow break you. You pressed your mouth a bit firmer to his, melding against him. You wished, hoped he could feel all your emotions come through the kiss—how much you cared for him, how much you wanted to show him that. Maybe your manifestation worked, because after his few fleeting seconds of unresponsiveness, you felt him sink into the feeling, one arm traveling from your waist up your back to cradle the back of your head in his hand.

He shifted beneath you, trying to pull you closer, as if you weren’t already on top of him. You could feel the stiffness vacate his muscles as the kiss grew feverish, desperate, his lips moving against yours hastily and messily. His free hand began to roam the expanse of your back as he pressed his torso into your own, your nose smushing against his cheek as he gripped you tighter.

He whined when your tongue swiped across the seam of his mouth, his lips immediately parting to allow you access. You dove in to taste him, the stale tobacco and faint mint of his toothpaste overtaking your senses and inebriating you with the distinctive flavor of Jake. His own tongue began to tussle with yours as he mirrored your actions, your teeth clashing messily as he all but tried to swallow you whole.

You pulled back abruptly, gasping in a breath, and his mouth chased yours in a frantic attempt to maintain contact. You felt his hips instinctually rut up against you, his hands still pulling you tightly against his body as he nuzzled into your neck, inhaling the scent of your soft skin.

“Slow down, Jake, take it easy.”

You placed both of your hands on either one of his shoulders and forced him to relax against the couch, his body following your guidance as he sank backwards at your request. His eyes were practically crazed, his lips swollen and ruddy as he looked up at you with a half-lidded gaze, chest heaving with panted breaths.

“Oh, hermosa.”

His muttered, his grip pulling you back to his chest as he surged forward to hungrily meet your lips again, his hands beginning to claw over every inch of your body he could reach, trying to feel all of you. You pushed him away again, more forcefully this time, and he fell backwards with a grunt.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”

A flicker of sadness glinted briefly in his dark eyes, a blink-and-you'll-miss-it expression, but you caught it. You offered him a soft, assuring smile, grabbing the hat from his head and tossing it to the side so you could sink your fingers into his hair. He leaned back into your touch as your nails gently scratched at his scalp, a soft, breathless moan breaking from his lips as his eyes fell shut. You leaned forward and pressed a single kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.

“Come on, handsome.”

He was reluctant to loosen his hold on you, but you reached for his hand and clutched his fingers tightly so he could still feel you touching him somewhere. You led him over to the bed, pausing at the foot of it and gesturing with a nod of your head for him to lay down. He quirked a brow at you, lips curling into a mischievous grin.

“You going to punish me for being so hard on you yesterday, bebita?”

You weren’t oblivious to the excitement that shone in his eyes—he seemed enticed by the possibility of you torturing him in a similar vein to Marc, and you figured that was some information you could keep in your back pocket for future reference.

Instead, you let out a saccharine giggle—it was sickeningly sweet, cloyingly so, and Jake might’ve gotten a toothache from the sugar if it weren’t for the softness with which you crept over his splayed-out body, sinking your front against his as you pressed a featherlight peck on his lips.

“No, Jake. Nothing like that.”

You let your weight settle onto him, straddling his lap and letting your chest fall flush against his as you kissed him again—he mouthed at you hungrily, trying to force his tongue into your mouth, fighting for dominance, and you gently pulled away.

“Hey, tough guy. What’s your rush?”

His brows furrowed, gaze flickering from your eyes and down to your dewy lips, his pupils blown wide. You smiled sweetly at him.

“Slow down, okay? There’s no hurry, really. Let me just feel you.”

He blew out a huff of air before your lips were on his again, and he heeded your request, letting you take the lead as your poured all of your passion into the kiss. It was slow, deep, intimate, your fingers sliding beneath the hem of his shirt and across the hot skin of his torso, pushing the material up as you went. You slowly drew back to discard the article of clothing before immediately latching your mouth to his, slow movements still heavy and dripping with desire. You finally parted his lips with the swipe of your tongue, and you felt his fingers sink into your hair, tilting his head for a better angle with which to lavish you.

You could feel him getting greedier as he pressed his body up into your warmth, hands sliding down the expanse of your back and making a move to rip your shirt from your body. You pulled back suddenly, giving him a warning look.

“Hey. Slow.”

You reminded, and he stuttered out an exhale, his fingers gradually raising your shirt above your head as he tossed it to the side. His eyes ravished your body as his fingers traced along the newly exposed skin of your sides, his touch softly skimming your curves before coming up to cup at your breasts. You smiled sweetly down at him as he pressed a few fervent kisses to your collarbone. His dark eyes found yours, lips parted provocatively as he silently asked for your permission. You nodded gently, and his fingers trembled with restraint as he slowly reached around to unclasp your bra.

It was taking everything within his power not to flip you over and pound into you, but something about the look in your eye—reverent, devoted, loving—he didn’t mind too much.

When your breasts exposed themselves to him, he made a low rumbling noise from the back of his throat, leaning forward to latch onto one of your nipples hastily. You tugged at his hair and he groaned in frustration.

“Jake.”

You warned, and he pressed his face down into your cleavage, his breathing ragged and shallow.

“Mierda, bebita. You like being on top so much, hm? Like being in control of papi?”

You gently pulled at his curls again, forcing his face to lift and look up at you. You regarded him softly, one of your hands coming to delicately trace over his jaw and cheekbone.

“No, honey. None of that, okay?”

His brows furrowed, and you leaned down to press a kiss against the crease between them.

“It’s just you and me. Jake and Y/N.”

He repeated your name back to you in a low murmur, as if saying it for the very first time. Actually, now that you thought about it—maybe it was. Jake had never addressed you by your name before, only used endearments to speak with you.

He seemed puzzled by your suggestion, eyes round and questioning and lost, almost uncomfortable with the proposal of having you call him by his actual name.

“You can be on top if you really want to, Jake.”

You pressed a kiss to his nose, then atop both of his fluttering eyelids, then one in the center of his hairline.

“You just—have to be patient.”

You pressed your forehead against his, letting your eyes drift shut as you took in the soft sound of his breathing, finally settling down and evening out. You felt his head tilt up to meet yours again, and you let him kiss you, his pace steady and deliberate, easing you into a rhythm. His hands slowly crawled up your spine, cradling you close to him as he licked into your mouth, his hips bucking up just slightly when you gently tugged at his lower lip with your teeth. He pulled away, shaking his head at your flirtatious action and giving you a playful glare before mouthing gently at your jawline, down your neck and behind your ear. When you leaned into his touch, he sank his teeth in and suckled a deep red mark into your skin, earning a soft whimper in appreciation. His lips stayed pressed against you as they trailed down the column of your neck, along your collarbone and shoulder, and finally down to the flesh of your breasts.

You breathed out a low moan when he placed wet open-mouthed kisses along the top curves of your chest, slowly teasing lower until his teeth scraped your hardened nipple and his lips puckered around it. His hand came to palm at your other breast, kneading at the doughy flesh as he stared up at you seductively through his lashes.

“Fuck, Jake.”

You whimpered, and the sound of his name rolling so deliciously off of your tongue caused his hips to grind up against you once more. When he was satisfied with the array of red and purple marks he’d imprinted on your skin, he dragged his face back up to your own and pressed his lips to yours once again.

You were impressed with his restraint. You could feel the hardness in his muscles, see the tension in his thick shoulders as he forced himself to take his time instead of jumping your bones from the start. You hummed against his mouth before pulling yourself away and off of his lap, your fingers slowly trailing down the length of his torso before settling on the buckle of his jeans.

His breath stuttered at the action, his abdominal muscles contracting as he awaited your next move. You gently reached down to palm at his bulge through the layers of fabric and he groaned throatily, his eyes fluttering shut at the much needed stimulation. Your fingers deftly worked to unloop his belt before unbuttoning his jeans, and he lifted his hips to assist you in pulling them off of him.

When he was left in just his briefs, you pressed gently against his shoulder to make him lay back down and relax. He sank back into the pillows, propped up so he had a decent view of you between his legs, your fingers teasingly stroking over his length through the thin cotton of his boxers. He hissed.

“Estás una calientapollas. Please, hermosa. Y/N.”

He saw the way your eyes darted to his face at the sound of your name, your lips parting and your fingers ceasing their gentle sweeping motion over his cock. You held his gaze as you slowly reached up towards the waistband of his briefs and coaxed them down his legs, freeing his member that had been straining against the fabric.

After you’d tossed his final undergarment aside, you settled back between Jake's legs, your hands stroking each of his inner thighs softly, watching as he pulled his lip between his teeth. Your left hand slowly, slowly crept upwards until it ghosted over the silky skin of his shaft, his body shuddering in response to your touch. You waited until his eyes were open again, watching you, before leaning forward and letting a pool of your saliva drip from your lips and onto his awaiting cock. He keened at the sight, his hips jerking just slightly as you finally wrapped your hand around the base and began to stroke him at a treacherously slow pace.

“Mierda. Fuck.”

He grunted quietly, trying to keep his hips still as you started to pump him a bit faster, glittering eyes staring up at him reverently. It was dizzying, the way you gazed up at him with such infatuation. It almost made him nauseous.

You slowly leaned down and licked the precum from his leaking slit before letting your lips wrap around the head, swirling your tongue languidly over the tip, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure.

You briefly pulled back to press kisses up along his entire length, coupled with soft caresses of your fingertips. It was clear to you that Jake was beginning to feel frustrated—his hands were buried in his hair, head thrown back against the bed as if attempting to subdue his desires.

You took him back into your mouth, working him slowly over with your tongue and swallowing him down bit by bit, agonizingly slow. You could feel Jake’s thighs tensing around you, his hands flying from his head to fist at the sheets on either side of his body.

When you gagged around his cock, he lost his composure. You made a startled choking sound when you felt his hand against the back of your head, pressing you down onto his length as his hips bucked up to try to sink into your throat. You immediately recoiled, and Jake nearly whined, his eyes desperately pleading with you to grant him some release. You weren’t taking any pleasure in seeing him like this—this wasn’t your end goal.

“You going to edge me like Marc, huh? Want to hear me beg?”

His voice broke off slightly, his frustrations venting through his lips as he almost glared at you. You sat up, moving to straddle his waist once more so you could press your lips to his again.

“No, Jake, I told you, I’m not. I just—Let me take care of you. Wanna show you how much you mean to me, wanna—wanna worship you, wanna make you feel good—”

His brows furrowed as you rambled slightly, your eyes big and round and glassy. He was confused—what exactly was it that you wanted from him?

“Let me fuck you, mi vida—make us both feel good with me inside you, hm?”

“No, Jake, just—hang on, that’s not—”

“Then what? Want to see if I can be as vanilla as your little Steven?”

“I want to make love with you, Jake.”

His breath resembled something of a gasp as his eyebrows shot up nearly to his hairline, disappearing beneath his curls while his eyes widened almost comically at your hasty confession. You cringed inwardly at your forwardness, taking in the expression of sheer panic on Jake’s face that had him looking like a deer in headlights. You sighed, leaning forward to press your forehead into his chest in an attempt to hide your face from view.

“Fuck. Sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush through this. I’m sorry, I just—I want—want you to enjoy it, want you to let yourself feel it, Jake.”

You could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, his lack of response smothering you after your fervent explanation. You wanted to disappear, wanted the ground to cave in and swallow you whole—instead, silence consumed you, settling across your back like a weight that you weren’t strong enough to carry.

“That’s...a new one for me.”

His voice was quiet, sheepish, and you could feel the vibrations rumbling in his chest as you lifted your head to look at him.

“I know.”

You acknowledged quietly. He was staring at you. Dark eyes searching within yours, scanning your expression, every detail of your face, as if attempting to see straight through you. Your heart was still pounding, your face rosy with an embarrassed blush—you felt his arms shift, his hand hesitantly lifting, fingers ghosting over the skin right above the waistband of your jeans at your hips, getting about as close as he could to holding you without actually touching you at all.

You’d never seen Jake Lockley at a loss for words before, and you’d certainly never seen him look so unsure. He was always so collected, nonchalant and unfazed, never dropping his guard for more than a second before that smug smirk reappeared on his face. He took things in stride, his confidence stifling as if he was always three steps ahead of the rest of the world, always knowing what came next.

But now there was vulnerability displayed across his slacken face, a certain wariness serrating his words as he spoke.

“I’m sorry, mi vida, but I don’t—”

“You don’t have to apologize, Jake, really, I promise it’s okay.”

You reached up a hand to cradle the side of his face, fingers gliding across the stubble of his jaw as your thumb brushed over his cheek. His head instinctually tilted in the direction of your hold, turning to press a soft kiss to the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry. This—I don’t know what I was thinking. This isn’t fair to ask of you at all, it wasn’t a part of the deal, and—we can stop here. Let’s—just tell me where you wanna go from here and we can do it. Anything.”

You breathed, looking into his eyes, your brows furrowed in remorse as you anxiously awaited his reply. He was still just looking at you, unwavering, his chest heaving slightly with each brash exhale.

You felt his fingers skate up your bare spine and you straightened at his touch, letting him gently pull you towards him until your noses were brushing again. His gaze never left yours as he drank you in, his lips parting so you could feel his warm breath against yours. After a few more grueling beats, your pulse jumping with anticipation, his closed the gap and kissed you with a tenderness you didn’t know he even possessed. He pulled himself into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around you until they enveloped you completely, your bodies melding together as his tongue traced the seam of your mouth, although he didn’t press any further—just feeling you, tasting you, savoring the sweetness that seemed to course through your veins.

You were breathless when he pulled back, although he only recoiled just enough to speak. You could feel the movement of his lips against your face as his dark eyes burned through you.

“Hermosa, I don’t—I’ve never... Nunca he hecho esto antes.”

You knew what he was saying even if you couldn’t actually understand it. Your eyes crinkled at the corners as you smiled softly at him, sliding your palms over his chest before wrapping your arms tightly around his neck.

“It’s okay, honey. I—we can figure it out together.”

He blinked rapidly at you, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought there were tears shining across his eyes. But then he was kissing you again, so softly and sincerely that it fucking hurt.

Your body was slotted perfectly against his, flush against the contours of his current position as his hands slid up and down your spine, settling lowly on your back, just above your ass. You could feel his aching arousal pressing into your heat, rubbing against the seam of your jeans as he held you against him. You let his tongue lick inside your mouth greedily before you drew away.

“Can I—Can I keep going?”

You asked softly, grinding your clothed core up against him for emphasis. A breathy whimper fell from his lips as he closed his eyes, resting his forehead against yours for a moment before slowly nodding. You slowly crawled down the length of his body, pressing gentle kisses all the way down until you found yourself settled between his legs once again, not wasting any time in wrapping your hand around his cock and giving him a few gentle strokes. He sank into the mattress, throwing his head back into the pillows as his teeth sank into his bottom lip.

“You’re supposed to enjoy this, okay? But remember, this—this isn’t just about making each other cum, it’s—wanna make you feel good. We’ll take it nice and slow. You tell me when you’re ready to—when you wanna move on, and we will, okay?”

He looked down at you, his eyes still full of doubt and hesitance, but beneath the veneer you could see the warmth of trust shining through. He nodded at you reassuringly, and the soft smile he offered was one you’d never seen from him before—so genuine and credulous that it almost resembled Steven.

Without another word, you leaned forward and let the tip of your tongue trace the driblet of precome that had begun to slide down the length of his shaft. You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, suckling at the flesh as your hand began to stroke him steadily, wrist twisting just slightly to maximize the stimulation.

Jake let you toy with him for awhile, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him in tight fists while he endured you doting on his throbbing cock.

When you reached to squeeze for his balls, your head sinking a bit lower onto his length, you felt his fingers wrap in your hair and gently coax you off of him, a low growl rumbling in his chest. You immediately ceased your ministrations, staring up at him attentively as he blinked slowly at you, his lip swollen from where he had been biting it.

“Do you—you want me to stop? Wanna—want me to ride you, or—”

He interrupted you with groan, throwing his head back against the pillows and squeezing his eyes shut. You could feel the muscles of his abdomen rippling.

“No, mi vida, it’s alright, whenever—you can stay down there as long as you like, I just—mierda, your mouth is so good to me, hermosa. Worried I’m gonna cum.”

He confessed, a sort of pained expression on his face. You gave him a pitying look—it wasn’t mocking, not at all, but genuine sympathy. You didn’t want to make him miserable.

“Just a little bit longer, okay, honey? I know it’s hard going so slow, I’m sorry, but—but I promise, when you finally let go, it’ll be worth it, okay?”

He smiled meekly at you, nodding as he removed his hand from your hair and returned it to its position tangled in the sheets at his side. You gave him one last reassuring glance before sinking your mouth back down onto his cock and lavishing him with more attention.

For several more minutes, he let you worship him, his hips jolting and cock twitching, although he was displaying great levels of restraint when it came to letting you dictate the speed and pace of your actions. You suckled one of his balls into your mouth, watching as he squirmed, legs kicking just slightly beside you as he mewled, his face scrunched up in pleasure.

You released him with a popping sound, finally satisfied with how you’d worked him up and extolled his cock. You crawled up his body and he eagerly welcomed your proximity, pulling you to his mouth to plant a hard, desperate kiss to your mouth. You smiled into him, fingers nestled in his curls.

“Thank you, Jake, did so well.”

You whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the expanse of his jaw as his chest heaved beneath you. He hummed to acknowledge your praise, although you could feel the tension in his muscles as he impatiently awaited your signal that you could continue.

When your eyes met his, they blinked at him, docile and alluring, and he took that as his cue to roll you onto your back so he could position himself on top of you. He pressed a few kisses to your mouth, as if he was struggling to pull himself away, before his lips traveled down your neck and collarbone, his hands popping the button on your jeans to finally have you bare beneath him. You didn’t protest when he pulled them down off of you, your panties joining them soon after. He leaned up to kiss you again, his rock-hard length dipping into your sopping folds as his body rocked against yours once, then twice, earning a low whimper from your throat.

“Go ahead, honey, I’m ready for you.”

You whispered, voice sweet, and he groaned lowly. However, he surprised you by pressing a soft peck to your cheek before sinking down the length of your body, his mouth trailing a line down the center of your torso before kissing right atop your pubic bone, brown eyes watching you closely. Your breath stuttered as you wrapped your fingers in his hair unconsciously.

“Jake, you’ve waited long enough, you don’t have to—”

“Wanna do this right, Y/N.”

He whispered, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your clit, causing you to gasp.

“Make me feel so good, hermosa. Promised going slow is worth it—gonna make it worth it for you, too.”

You couldn’t dwell on the fluttering sensation in your chest when his mouth pressed against you, wet tongue meeting your dripping folds with attentiveness—you released a soft cry as he lapped at your entranced, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit gently, causing you to squirm.

Jake liked to run his mouth, but now, he was silent. It's not that he didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to spur you on with filthy praise—he simply couldn’t find the words. He was absolutely hypnotized by the sight above him, bewitched by the expression of pure, unadulterated euphoria on your face at each ministration he offered. He’d never been witness to such a beautiful view before—any time he’d gone down on someone, watching their nonverbal responses to his touch simply wasn’t his priority. It had always been rushed, forceful, as he ripped orgasm after orgasm from his partner with greed and insatiability. But now—now it was you. He was in between your legs, pulling angelic sounds from your lips as your thighs quaked around his head. You were glowing, radiant, ethereal as you basked in the pleasure, and Jake finally realized why foreplay was so important—seeing you like this might be even better than the real thing.

He heeded your words. He wasn’t trying to make you cum, wasn’t speeding you towards your climax with rapid swipes of his tongue and fingers. He was savoring you, each brush of his mouth against your core was languid and indulgent. His lips puckered around your sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing slow circles around it with his tongue as your fingers fisted tighter into his curls, offering enough of a sting to make him groan around you. His tongue dipped into your entrance, lapping at your dripping arousal, your walls fluttering around his thick muscle as your hips jerked to meet his thrusts, pressing yourself against his face to chase your mounting pleasure.

This was different than the orgasms he’d granted you the day prior—this was a simmering heat, coiling lowly in your stomach, festering and building slowly as he sought out the places that made you squirm. You could feel the intensity spiking, even though his lazy speed remained constant—the way his dark eyes stayed firmly fixated on your face was dragging you closer and closer to the threshold.

“Fuck, Jake, oh God—”

You whined, and his hands slipped beneath your ass, lifting your hips to grant him a better angle at which to devour you. Your thighs were trembling, his tongue beginning to swipe over your clit in rapid side-to-side motions—the change of pace pulled a ragged wail from within you, the muscles of your abdomen squeezing tight. He couldn’t control the shameful rutting of his hips into the mattress beneath him at the sound.

“So close, Jake, yes, fuck—”

You were right on the precipice, stars clouding your vision, but right before you tipped over the edge, you yanked your hips back, lifting Jake's head away from you with your grip on his hair. He jolted, hazy eyes suddenly wide and alert as he sat back, bewildered at your abrupt departure from his lips. You squeezed your eyes shut as your orgasm dissipated, your tense muscles sinking back into the mattress as the coil loosened itself. You breathed out lowly, your lashes fluttering as you opened your arms to pull Jake against you.

“Sorry, honey, I—so good, Jake, fuck, but I—wanna cum on your cock, wanna cum with you.”

A low groan escaped him as he pressed his forehead to yours, eyes blinking closed to stave off the arousal that was singeing his insides.

“You—¿estás lista, mi vida? Are you sure?”

You nodded vigorously, pressing a kiss to his lips, and he let out a slow breath, hands sliding to your sides. Your brows furrowed when he pulled back, gently attempting to roll you onto your stomach. You reached up to grip his shoulders tightly, shaking your head.

“No, no, Jake, I want—wanna see you, wanna be close to you, please.”

There was turmoil churning behind his eyes as he stared down at you, brows furrowed heavily as he fought his internal battle. You realized he’d probably never done it like this before—if the fact that he was afraid to kiss you was any indication, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he’d never let himself be caught in such an intimate position.

But then his eyes softened, his hand coming to cradle the side of your face, his thumb pressing up against the swell of your lower lip.

“Okay, hermosa. Por ti hago lo que sea.”

You felt his member slide between your dripping folds, the head of his cock brushing across your clit as he guided it against your center, hearing the way your breath hitched at the feel of him over your bundle of nerves. You felt it notch at your entrance, the tip just barely breaching your folds. Jake cursed lowly under his breath, eyes glued to where his cock was about to sink into you. In spite of your desperation, your hands lifted to rest on either side of his face, forcing his eyes onto you.

“Look at me, honey. Want you to look at me when you split me open.”

“Carajo.”

He muttered, closing his eyes to steel himself before opening them again to stare into yours. You watched his lips part as he pushed into you, unbearably slow, a low moan rumbling through his diaphragm as he sank into you, only stopping when he was fully-seated within your fluttering walls.

The intimacy was stifling him. He felt lightheaded, breathless, his body hovering over yours just barely as he held himself up above you, drinking in your heavenly being—your hair was fanned out on the pillow beneath you, your pink lips slicked with saliva as your gazed up at him with doe-eyes, blinking slowly as your walls clenched around him.

“God, Jake.”

You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling so he fell against you, chest flush against your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, staying still inside of you for a few brief moments in order to just feel the way you surrounded him.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back his hips, just barely, before pressing back inside of you, your moans echoing in unison as his balls nestled tightly against your ass again. He’d always been so busy chasing his release, relentlessly pounding into you that he hadn’t taken the time to appreciate just how perfectly he filled you, just how perfectly your walls clamped around his pulsing length.

“So good, mi vida.”

He groaned against your neck, repeating the motion of his hips at a more steady pace. Each thrust pressed against your cervix, causing you to whimper.

“Fill me up so nice, Jake, fuck, feels so good.”

He felt your walls clamp around him once more, and he pulled his head back slightly, lifting himself up a bit more so he could increase the breadth of his thrusts.

“Me vas a matar.”

He growled, sucking in a breath through his teeth as one hand came to palm at your breast, his eyes glued to the way the other bounced with each push of his hips forward. His eyes drifted back to the fucked-out expression on your face, your lips parted as you stared up at him, and his hips stuttered just slightly.

God, he was close already.

“Fuck, hermosa, me arruinas.”

You could feel him faltering, a bead of sweat dripping from one of his curls and down onto your chest, sliding between your breasts and down to your stomach. He watched it dribble downward, eyes dazed, his abdomen clenching as he attempted to stave off his impending orgasm.

His hand clumsily wedged between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing it in crude circles, his arm trembling just slightly. Watching him grow desperate above you was enough to spark the beginnings of your climax. You pulled him down for a bruising kiss, teeth clashing and tongues swirling as you swallowed his incessant groans.

“Wan’ you to cum with me, Jake.”

Your words were drawled, drunk on the way his cock filled you, and you could feel pleasure sparking in the base of your spine. The speed of his fingers on your clit sped up slightly, his hips struggling to maintain their cadence.

“Mierda, hermosa, oh fuck, so tight—can’t, I can’t—”

“Cum inside me, Jake.”

Your words were only a whisper as you skated along the edge of your orgasm, just barely hanging on as you desperately tried to convince Jake to let go. His eyes blew open wide at your words, grunting as his hips continued jacking forward.

“Y/N, shit, don’t—I’ve never—”

“Oh, God, fuck, I’m cumming, Jake, please, please cum with me, fuck—”

He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he tried. The rhythmic pulsing of your walls around his painfully hard cock was harrowing, gripping him so tightly that he couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to.

His balls drew up tight as his climax exploded.

“Oh, me vengo—mierda, fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, shit, shit, shit—”

His eyes rolled back as he nearly collapsed on top of you, his hips pistoning forward again and again as he shot his spend deep into your walls, his cock pulsing. His orgasm seemed to last minutes as his vision blacked out, brain emptying as his awareness only focused on how the pleasure zipped across his skin with each pump of cum that he released and how tightly your walls were squeezing him, milking him for all he was worth. He’d never cum so hard in his life, or so much—his seed was leaking out around his length as his body slowed to a halt, your tired cunt stuffed full of him as his cock spilled one final spurt of warm release, the head of his member settling against your cervix as he stilled, his weight bearing down on you as he went boneless.

Jake was slowly grounded back into reality at the feeling of your fingertips brushing softly across the length of his spine, your other hand buried in his curls from where his face was tucked into your shoulder. He could feel your hot lips pressed against his temple, your breathing steady and even as you regained your bearings. He forced himself to follow your inhalation patterns, attempting to slow the racing of his heart.

As the endorphins flooding his bloodstream began to thin out, his anxieties threatened to consume him once again. He pushed himself up and off of you, groaning at the soreness in his muscles and the exhaustion tingeing the edge of his movements. You could do nothing but watch him as he slowly pulled out of you, and you expected him to leave you as hastily as he had the day before—maybe he would’ve, if not for the way his eyes glued themselves to your exposed center, enthralled by the sight of his cum oozing from your fluttering hole and dripping downwards.

Your hips jumped slightly when you felt his fingers gently sweep over your cunt—his gaze never lifted as he scooped his release from where is was beginning to escape and pushed it back into you, forcing you to keep as much of him inside as you could. His eyes were dark, possessive as he tilted your hips up just slightly in an effort to stop his cum from leaking out of you.

His sudden captivation and obsession with filling you was surprising, a stark contrast from just moments before when he had desperately resisted your pleas to finish inside of you. The ghost of a smile flickered over his lips as he settled you back down, seemingly content with the show. His eyes flickered up to yours, and as soon as your gazes met, you saw the way a shadow crested his features, abruptly throwing up his guard after the unexpected vulnerability he’d just granted you.

Jake walked to the bathroom, letting the door shut behind him with a click. You pulled yourself into a sitting position, sighing as you felt the stickiness between your thighs and settling beneath you. You should clean yourself up, get dressed and head out so that—

The bathroom door swung open again and Jake walked out, a wet washcloth awkwardly held in his left hand. He stood at the end of the bed for a moment, as if unsure of what to do next. His eyes hesitantly found yours.

“Do—I’m—I haven’t done this part before, mi vida.”

He quietly admitted, offering a sheepish shrug of his shoulders. Still, your heart warmed at his efforts.

“Thought—figured I’d try what Marc does, but I don’t—”

“Thank you, Jake, that’s perfect.”

You encouraged softly, and his eyes lit up with your soft praises as he knelt down on the edge of the bed, leaning down to carefully press the cloth to your ruined core. You sucked in a sharp breath, the coldness of the water a foreign sensation in contrast to the heat that was broiling between your legs—Jake recoiled, eyes searching yours widely for direction. You offered him a lopsided grin.

“Sorry, s’just—sensitive.”

You explained, and he nodded, slowly wiping at the arousal that stained your skin. His lips were pursed as he focused on his actions, trying desperately not to hurt you. After awhile, he sighed.

“Would you—do you want Marc? Or Steven?”

Your face fell as he finished cleaning you up, tossing the towel on the floor beside the bed, before facing you, his curls falling across his forehead and into his eyes. You frowned.

“No, Jake—not unless you don’t want to—it’s okay, I can always leave if that’s—”

He let out a humorless, bitter laugh, one hand coming up to stroke at his stubbled jaw as he stared at the ceiling, clearly uncomfortable.

“No sé lo que estoy haciendo.”

You heard him mumble breathlessly, his shoulders sagging with defeat.

“Do you—will you come lay with me, Jake?”

You asked softly, as if you were speaking to a wild animal and were trying desperately not to scare it away. His eyes darted to your face, lips parting to protest, to make up an excuse, but then he shook his head at himself, crawling up towards you and seating himself beside you, his back resting against the headboard. You tentatively leaned into his side, nestling your head against his shoulder. You felt him stiffen beside you slightly, but then his arm moved to wrap around you, pulling you closer against his side.

You felt him release a breath he’d been holding as you lifted a hand to rest on his bare chest, drawing random shapes into the warm skin mindlessly.

“Why did you think I’d want Marc or Steven?”

You asked softly, your eyes watching the movement of your fingers on his chest. His hold on you tightened.

“This—s’not my job. I don’t do things like this.”

You sat upright, turning to face him fully. His eyes were hard as they looked at you.

“What do you mean, not your job?”

His lips pursed.

“You know, hermosa. You’re the doctor, hm? Steven and me, we’re—we both do something for Marc. S’why we’re here. Marc and Steven, they—they get to feel things, know people. I’m—I’m just here to make sure they’re safe, that they don’t get hurt.”

Tears pricked behind your eyes as his words registered in your brain. There was an aching sensation festering in your chest.

“No, Jake, that’s not—that’s not how this works. You’re a person, you have every right to experience things just like they do, you’re—”

“No pasa nada. This is the way things are, hermosa. I know you thought—thought you’d be able to come and figure us out, show us what’s what, but—but I already know who I am, what part I play.”

The dejection in his voice was unmistakable. There was bitterness in his words, resentment. The pain in your chest expanded.

“I protect. That’s what I do. Means I don’t get—I don’t get to have this, mi vida. What happened today—that’t not mine.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, so you turned and sank back into his side, hoping he didn’t catch your display of emotion. In spite of himself, he let you press against him, savoring the feeling of your soft skin against his own.

You were hoping he’d open himself up to you after your intimate tryst, but you obviously misread the situation—his walls had come back up, even stronger and more unwavering than before.

Perhaps he sensed your sadness. You felt him release a long sigh, his muscles going lax as he let his head fall against the headboard.

“Lo siento, hermosa. I—you deserve better than what I can give you.”

Your head turned to gaze up at him, finding his eyes staring straight ahead at a random focal point. You felt your heart crack a bit.

“Stop, Jake, don’t say that. That’s not true, I don’t—”

“It’s okay, mi vida. I appreciate what you tried to do for me today. Significa mucho para mí.”

He swallowed, and when he finally looked down at you, the warmth he’d been unabashedly displaying for you had been replaced by the familiar austere glint that normally resided there.

No. You wouldn’t have it. Not after all of this.

Your hand reached up to cradle his jaw, thumb swiping over the apple of his cheek as you turned his head to face you.

“I know you’ve heard me say it, Jake. To Marc and Steven. This wasn’t—this isn’t just research.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his eyes flickered down to your lips, and you felt the arm that was wrapped around you tighten its grip again.

“I care about you, a lot—”

“You don’t know me.”

His words were brazen, suddenly harsh, insistent against your admission. Your brows furrowed.

“I’m not—I’m not like the others. I’m—I’m no good, hermosa. You care about Steven, and Marc, but I’m not like them. I don’t feel things like them, I can’t—estás mejor sin mí.”

“Then let me know you, Jake. You’re a part of this system, just as much as Marc and Steven, and you deserve to be happy.”

He didn’t answer you—his jaw rippled at the conviction your tone offered, so certain with yourself. You let out a long sigh, reaching to pull at his arm as you shifted. His brows furrowed, but he let you coax him into a lying position, his head against the pillows as you once again nestled into his side, arms wrapped tightly around his torso as you pressed your front against his side, face squished against his shoulder. You placed a soft kiss to the skin there.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, okay, Jake?”

You felt his muscles tense in protest, every fiber of his being telling him to make you leave, to get up and go, but the proximity and warmth of your body was intoxicating. After a few beats, he finally offered a slow nod, his limbs relaxing as he sank into the bed. You reached to pull the duvet over you two, clutching onto him tightly, and even if he refused to hold you back, you could feel the way his body went pliant beneath your touch.

He shouldn’t let you so close. He’d managed to keep his distance before—but with the way your breaths slowed into gentle snores, your hair tickling against his bicep, your comforting heat seeping into his bones—he felt his resolve begin to crack beneath the pressure of your insistent affections.

Jake let himself mold against you, his head tilting to rest against the top of yours as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head—he told himself that it was okay, you were sleeping, no one ever had to know just how much you’d softened him, how deeply you’d sunk your perfectly-manicured nails into his flesh—and no one ever had to know just how much he loved it.

For the first time in what felt like ever, Jake Lockley actually slept.

TAGLIST: @kezibear143 @gingermous @josephquinncore @steven-grants-world @am-3-thyst @fanofverymanythings @vaneyvfs @theboggyman-blog @belladri @roserfz27 @nowayhomerry @justanotherkpopstanlol @bagsy-not-it @elles-mind-palace @pimosworld @winterbiip @moonmoonboys @icuminurbutt @spxctorsslxt @fandomqueen74 @freerangesweets @wumpsquill @wordacadabra @lunaleah @hornkneeforbucky @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @sweatyroadcowboyjudge @ronanthesimp @deezisnotreal @avengersinitiative2012 @pri00r @wand-erer5 @bitchotine @cookielovesbook-akie @kingtwhiddleston @manofworm @welcometostayingawake @papillonoirsworld @xsarcasticwriterx @this--is--music @paradox-brody-chase

[snapscube]

Hey Penny, if the video game strike happens, do you have any plans to change your stream schedule to avoid crossing the picket line?

So I’ve already talked about this publicly but in all fairness it was during a VOD that I ended up not putting on YouTube so here’s the gist again:

If you’re not aware, in summary, SAG-AFTRA has voted to give strike authorization for actors working on interactive media in the lead-up to new negotiations with game publishers. This does not mean that a strike is currently happening, but if negotiations do not land on a deal that is fair for actors then a strike is very likely. The reason why I’m being asked about this on Tumblr is because curiously Insomniac Games is one of the companies listed for strike authorization, and it’s been my plan for a while to stream Spider-Man 2 on release. Obviously I am extremely excited for this game, but at the end of the day I am also a voice actor and though my professional work is minimal and I am certainly not a part of any union, it is a hope of mine that I could be someday and thus I wanna take my position here very seriously.

So here’s my plan taking possible strikes into consideration:

1. If nothing is said and if a strike does not begin by the games release on October 20th, I will continue as planned and stream the game on release.

2. If a strike DOES happen, and there is a call for content creators specifically to not broadcast struck work, or if there’s a call for creators to not promote and there’s any ambiguity as to what would be considered “promoting” struck work, then I will be canceling stream series. What I will likely do instead in this case is record my first playthrough as a let’s play, off stream, and then wait to post it publicly until the strike is over.

3. If a strike happens and the guidelines ask for a full boycott of struck work, then in that case I will simply delay plans altogether and stream the One Thousand Million Billion other playthrough ideas I have left.

[callumsluvr]

redemption

Summary: In which Y/N Thomas is left to raise her and Rafe Cameron’s baby after he refuses to take responsibility for it. He shows up after two years, ready to redeem himself, but is it too late?

Chapter 1:

5 years ago - September 2nd

“Are you by any chance from the Outer Banks?” you ask the boy sitting next to you in your freshman year English class. “I am, why?” He states, with a very charming smile. “You look familiar. Do you know Topper Thornton?” He nods and chuckles slightly, “I do.” “Topper’s my cousin,” you smile softly at the thought of the younger boy who you loved like a little brother. “Yeah?” He asks, “Where are you from?” You smile and flip to a page in your notebook, “Charleston, but I’ve visited the Outer Banks a lot to see Topper and the rest of my family.” 

5 years ago - September 5th

The party you’re at is already packed, the smell of weed and alcohol is in the air, and the noise is enough to give you a headache already. As you and your friend, Ella, start to walk up the stairs to the frat house  you hear, “Hey! Y/N, right?” 

It’s Rafe. 

Unfortunately (for you) charming, extremely put together, and just bad enough to get you in trouble. That’s how Ella described him when you asked about him. And that’s the impression you got from his instagram. 

“Yeah, you’re Rafe, right?” He smirks and nods while walking over to you, abandoning his friends. Ella sighs behind you and shakes her head subtly. “Hi Ella,” Rafe smiles, obnoxiously. “Hey, Cameron.”  Ella gives Rafe an unimpressed look, “Y/N and I are busy. Good to see you.” She grabs your arm and drags you into the frat house, looking for her boyfriend. 

4 years ago - October 1st 

Ella finally picks up the phone and you immediately squeal into it. “Rafe asked me out! Finally!” You giggle and you hear Ella chuckle softly on the other side of the phone, “Took him long enough, I’m happy for you. Tell me all about it.” You both can hear each other’s smiles on the other side of the phone. 

3 years ago - August 22nd 

You and Rafe are laying in his bed, after getting back from a week-long visit to the Outer Banks, where you had met his family, who undoubtedly loved you, for the first time. Even his father, who clearly faked his support and affection for his son the whole week, this was easy to tell only because Rafe had told you all about him and his father while driving there, as a warning for you, just in case. 

“I love you,” He says, smiling into your stomach as you run your fingers through his hair. “Don’t see a future without you in it.” He mumbles and you smile, probably the widest you’ve ever smiled. “I love you, can’t wait to be with you forever and deal with the wonderful in-laws.” You laugh, teasingly and he chuckles, half out of embarrassment and half out of humor. Rafe had watched you immediately get along with his whole family and after telling you about his struggles with his family, he thought that you would think he was the problem, but you understood his point of view and believed him wholeheartedly.

3 years ago - August 23rd 

“Rafe, I’m pregnant. That’s why I’ve been sick. Went to the doctor’s today.” You stated, shaking from nerves and speaking in short sentences to make sure that he got point. Rafe stares at you, unmoving. His eyes are colder and emptier than you’ve ever seen them. It’s the way his father looks at him. “I don’t- I don’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, Rafe.” You stutter, trying to get him to say anything, do anything. Anything but what he’s doing right now. He quietly stands up from his bed and towers over you, “I’m sorry.” He says, looking away. “You know I can’t do that right now.” Your eyes widen, “Do what? Take care of a child? And I can? Alone?” He sighs and opens his door, “I’m sorry.” He says coldly, waiting for you to leave. Your eyes look at the door and immediately water. “What happened to being excited for the future? You never meant that, did you? Rafe, I’m twenty. I can’t do this alone!” You hope to get to him somehow, but you can see his walls are already built taller than you could ever break down. After taking one last look at him, you walk out of his room, for the last time. Preparing to raise a baby alone. 

2 years ago - April 23rd 

“You would have a baby on Earth Day.” Sarah laughs, while walking in the room. You smile at her, and the joke. “He’s already a little hippie.” Wheezie says from behind her, while holding flowers. “Hi you two,” You smile and give them weak hugs from your spot on your bed. After you let them go, they immediately swarm the cot that your newborn baby is laying in, cooing over him instantly. Sarah looks at you, “What name did you decide on?” 

“Crew Joseph Thomas.” You say, with a weak smile. They both coo in awe at him and his name quietly. You hear Wheezie mumble something about using Rafe’s middle name to Sarah, who quickly shushes her. 

A few hours later, Wheezie leaves to go get some food, leaving just you and Sarah in the room. “Did you tell him?” She asks, and you shake your head. “He said he couldn’t do it. I’m respecting that. I don’t think he should be in and out of Crew’s life. He’s either completely in or completely out.” You shrug, watching Crew sleep in his aunt Sarah’s arms. Wheezie walks in, frantically, “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You and Sarah look up, confused. “What?” You say, furrowing your brows. “He’s here.” You and Sarah both look at each other, and your brain goes completely numb. “How did he find out?” Sarah asks, and Wheezie shakes her head, shrugging, “Maybe Rose told him, or dad? But I think he saw me.” She looks at you, apologetically, “I’m so sorry.” You sigh, “It’s alright, Wheeze. It’s not your fault. He was gonna find out at some point, better here than anywhere else, I guess.” 

After a few minutes of sitting in silence, there is a knock on the door. Sarah and Wheezie look at you, and you nod. Sarah hands Crew off to you and grabs Wheezie to sit outside. She opens the door and rolls her eyes at Rafe, pushing her and Wheezie past him and into the hallway. He walks in with his hands in his jeans pocket, trying to shrink in on himself. Maybe if he did, he wouldn’t be in a hospital room with his ex-girlfriend and their baby. He sniffs, “Hey.” You watch him walk across the room and stand at your feet, awkwardly. “Hi Rafe.” You say, quietly, “His name is Crew Joseph," watching Rafe eye Crew in your arms. “Joseph?” He asks, his eyes widening slightly and you nod. “Cameron?” He asks, finally making eye contact with you. You look at him and shake your head slowly, “Thomas. Thought it would be easier while he grows up.” He deflates slightly, but nods, “Yeah, no, makes sense.” 

There’s a moment of silence before you look down at Crew, who is now wide awake, “Do you want to hold him?” You ask quietly, not wanting to startle Rafe even further. You did feel slightly bad for him, you had all of your pregnancy to prepare for this moment, but Rafe is just now showing up and seeing his baby, without seeing the birth, or your pregnancy stomach. He looks up at you, and his lips separate, before closing back quickly. “You don’t hav-” “Yes, ple-” You both speak at the same time. He chuckles softly, “I do, I want to hold him.” 

After Rafe gets settled on the bed, at your feet, you pass Crew to him. Crew whines softly, and Rafe looks up at you, worried. You smile at him, reassuring him, “He’s fine. He’s just getting settled.” Rafe nods, trying to play it off, “Right, I remember Wheezie at this age.” He says, quietly. You smile softly at him, this is your Rafe. Well, not anymore, but he was. This is who you knew, not the cold, angry boy who threw you out of his room when you told him. He speaks up, “I can’t stick around. You know I can’t. I’m sorry.” He stares at Crew, staring up at Rafe from his place in his father’s protective arms. You nod, you expected this, you knew he wouldn’t stick around, you’ve prepared for it. “I think you should know that we’re moving back to Charleston after I graduate.” You say, just because he doesn’t want to be involved, doesn’t mean he shouldn’t know where his son is. 

After an hour of sitting with Crew and Rafe in peaceful silence, Rafe has to leave. With his hand on the doorknob, he turns to look at you, “I’ll be in the Outer Banks after this year. If you need anything, please let me know.” He says, quietly. You nod, “Rafe.” He looks up at you, “He’ll grow up knowing who you are. He’ll know who is dad is, but I won’t say why you couldn’t be here.” He blinks rapidly and nods, before closing the door. 

[seat-safety-switch]

Contracts. What even are they? A lawyer could tell you, but my lawyer just laughs at them and uses his desk-mounted cigar lighter – in the shape of a human skull, I’m pretty sure it’s not real, okay I’m not so sure anymore – to torch any attempt to get him or me to sign one. My attorney’s name is Max, and I met him once when he was doing some public-defender work, representing some unwashed maniac who jumped a mall fountain in a Baja Bug. Ever since then, we’ve been the best of friends.

Let me explain why: have you ever had a coworker who was a fan of extreme sports? They probably started out jumping out of an airplane, which was scary but fun. Then, it wasn’t enough. They started doing group jumps, elaborate stunts, nude skydives. Moved on to cliff diving, riskier and riskier shit. Max is like that, but for the law. He figures that all human law derives eventually from nature, and by bending every law to its maximum extent, he will finally be able to perceive the rhythms of an absent bureaucratic god.

This is exactly why he needs me. Max drives a very lushly appointed Saab 9-5, which is certainly some ridiculous pervert shit, but it still doesn’t put him in my league. Only someone as immersed into automotive culture – and specifically the dirtbaggiest niches of it imaginable – can even consider the creative ways in which I break parking, traffic, highway, and husbandry laws. Sometimes the responding officer has to take out his little notepad and scrawl out some diagrams to figure out just what it is I can be charged with. Sometimes his brow furrows, little beads of sweat appearing, and he climbs back into his cruiser and leaves. It’s those moments that Max is most excited about, as it represents the limitations of mortal man to understand just what specific category crime I am committing. Anything weaker, he usually gets me off of in a weekend of playing golf with the judge and charging me (with a discount) for his coke and strippers.

You could say that this is a perfect symbiotic relationship, but on the advice of my attorney, I would have to pretend I don’t understand what you’re saying. That’s an awful big word, and is the kind of thing that you should direct to my attorney. Ideally with a big bag of knowledge about the niche hobby that you are interested in, and specifically the corner cases that would get you on an FBI watchlist.

[darqx]

Nope!

I like that I've had people say they can relate to my characs and/or that my characs feel real 🥰 That really makes my day cos it means I'm doing ok with my characteristation then haha. In terms of Rire in particular, one of my fave things is when people can't decide whether they like him or hate him and end up settling on a weird mixture of both and squaggling about it. I find this extremely gratifying.

Hello! Thanks I am doing good (now that I'm having a break from work ahah) :D I'm gonna be real and say I'm not sure if I'm the best person to ask considering I was only involved in like...one and a bit horrorporn projects |D - Gato would prob be the MVP at the moment - but I'll give you some gen advice that hopefully you can find useful :)

Plan your project. Most people are NOT good pantsers and it's not easy to get a cohesive plot/project if you don't have SOME idea of what you are doing. Whether you are doing a VN or a comic or whatever, make sure you have an outline of what is going to happen for your own reference.

Find an audience. If you're lucky then an audience who will enjoy your project will find you (which was the case with BTD and some throwing it out there.) Most of the time though you will need to advertise your project to like-minded people first. Put your characters, art, teasers out there! If you want people to care about your project you have to give them a reason to care about/get excited about it.

Be prepared to be disliked. This is true for any project because everyone doesn't like everything, but if you are going for horrorporn (or really, anything that could be considered weird i guess) there's a much higher chance of people looking at your stuff and going what the ever loving fuck. Anyway the point is you will need to just do your own thing and try not take certain things personally even if they seem aimed at you personally. Or just be like:

4. ✔️ Just do it. Self explanatory, dont let your dreams be dreams lol.

Thanks very much for asking first! I'm flattered that you want to create fangames like that with my BP characs, but I'm unfortunately going to have to say no at the moment. This is mainly because I haven't got my own project with them out yet and I don't want people to potentially get confused with the origins. Maybe after I start posting and establish the comic more, we can revisit this question :)

Thank you (and to all the other lovely asks like this)! Psh don't worry about being new to being an artist, everyone has to start somewhere!

[violetasteracademic]

I mean, I love Lucien so much but it’s obvious that he’s not that excited about the mating bond. It feels like it was something that was imposed on him, not something that makes him happy (as it was the case for Rhys and Cassian). He even used the world “shackled”. What can be worse than that? After a while, he didn’t even care about living someplace else and not seeing her often. He knows they’re a bad match and it’s possibly questioning the Cauldron.

I love both of them and they deserve better. Sometimes I wonder if the people that believe that Elain has to be with Lucien because he’s her mate, also believe that women should stay in unhappy, miserable marriages because they see divorce as a “sin”

Hello lovely anon!

Looooong post ahead, we are gonna get into it! I agree with you completely on this. I am a pro L/cien Elriel, and always have been. My first Tumblr post was a dissertation about Vassien for goodness sake, and my excitement for their story is genuinely second to Elriel! The secret Spell-Cleaver's son and the cursed queen, the bird of flame and lord of fire, there is so much I love about them. I did an entire breakdown on the possibilities of Vassien's story using Sarah's usual book structures and all of the information we have on them, because there is so much driving them plot wise and thematically it's actually crazy.

I think that sometimes it can be really easy to miss theme while reading these books, but it is something SJM puts a lot of work into and threads throughout her stories.

I spend a LOT of time talking about my girl Elain, and even though I love the boys they are just kinda there for me as cute little accessories for our ladies. So I appreciate this opportunity to talk more about who is right for whom from the mens perspective based on the themes woven throughout the books with a focus on L/ucien and Azriel, and whether or not Elain fits into those themes. In my opinion, these are the strongest indicators of what ultimately is being subliminally pushed by authors on the road to happiness for our characters.

I'm gonna nerd out about writing for a sec, but good writing has clean character arcs. Good romance shows the blind spots or flaws of the lead characters, and how their romantic interest will balance or push the character to growth. If there are multiple love interests, one of the love interests will undoubtedly leave the main character stagnant, or perhaps fulfill some external ideals rather than following their own heart.

Here are some examples of themes when it comes to Elain and Azriel, and I'm pushing myself to focus on Azriel here and not my girlie 🌸

Here we are being introduced to the areas where Azriel has blind spots to his own personal happiness. It is nearly impossible to get Azriel to take any time for himself that doesn't't involve work or training. He rips himself to shreds for mistakes, his perfectionism bordering on sadistic.

The time he spends with Elain is a direct foil to Azriel's inability to do anything other than work or train without being pushed to the extreme by his loved ones. He chooses to sit with Elain in the garden. He chooses to stay up until three am listening to her design plans. He chooses to rest in the sunlight with her. This is a direct tie of the author stating what this character needs, and then blatantly showing who is giving it to him.

G/wyn also trains hard and is competitive and perfectionistic. It makes total sense to me that people think this is cute, however, theme wise, it is a representation of a stagnant arc. The idea that training is a foundational element to an Az and G's potential relationship actually directly parallels Azriel's greatest obstacle to happiness- which is that he cannot allow himself to rest and *not* train.

Feyre and Rhys had to teach each other to share burdens, though it was extremely difficult. Cassian had to teach Nesta how to forgive herself and believe she was worthy of love. What Azriel needs is someone to help him believe he is worthy of rest and mistakes. These themes are tied to Elain.

There is also the issue of his hands and physical touch, and his feelings of worthiness.

Again, we discover that even if Morrigan, the woman he has supposedly been madly in love with for 500 years, stripped naked in front of Azriel, he still wouldn't touch her. We've also seen Morrigan cringe away from his hands. Meanwhile, Elain called his scarred hands beautiful. Elain initiated every act of touch in the bonus chapter. Elain moved so that his hand was covering her neck, and she wanted it.

Azriel fought against his feelings of disgust over his hands. He experienced intrusive thoughts about how he shouldn't be touching her with the things he has done. And yet, his feelings for her, and the feeling of touching her, was powerful enough to override the loop of self hate that tells him he is unworthy of being wanted.

So if Azriel's two themes that need to be challenged in his romantic relationship is lack of rest and lack of touch, Elain has already been pushing growth in those areas over multiple books. With G/wyn, whom he has not touched because of the strict line of professionalism with the priestesses and the only time they spent together training (which is also the thing Azriel uses to distract himself and push himself to the brink of exhaustion) thematically, for Azriel's specific needs in romantic growth, we are stagnant.

Moving on to L/cien, because there is a lot here for him as well and I believe we are being shown how Elain is also thematically the opposite of what L/cien needs.

Unlike Azriel, L/cien has experienced true, authentic, deep, consensual love. And the first thing he does when he meets Elain is compare her to the woman he loves, and frankly, he's not really understanding how someone like Elain could be his mate because she is so different from Jesminda.

L/cien is attracted to wildness, mischief and laughter. Someone who loved him not because of his status or stature, but choosing him for who he was. This is never going to be possible with Elain. L/cien's status as a High Lord's son plays a huge role in Rhys not wanting Azriel to interfere with their relationship. At this point, even if Azriel never pursues Elain again, that is the reason why. The Blood Duel, and L/ucien's status as a High Lord's son. If L/ucien were not these things, Rhys never would have interrupted their kiss. So even if Elain *chooses* L/cien in the end, it will never have been without question. It will never be untangled with this status as a High Lord's son, and it will never be because they weren't mates first before falling in love. In Lucien's monologue about Jesminda, we learn that the mating bond is not the ideal way for L/cien to fall in love either. With all his trauma and abuse and lack of choice in his own life, he both wants and deserves to be loved without question. This will absolutely never be true with Elain, no matter how their story develops.

Lucien desires to be chosen away from High Fae culture and societal expectations. We also see how he is drawn to things wild and free, who says to hell with all of it. I'm choosing who I love and how I show up in this world.

And then we meet the human queen Vassa.

A foul mouthed, foul tempered queen who Lucien warns Feyre of right away that she will corner her to ask for help breaking her curse (which she absolutely does 🤣)

In the same book where Lucien can't help but compare Elain to the fiery love of his life, and feel Elain was thrown at him, he winds up on an adventure with a literal firebird queen with the attitude and energy to match. Perhaps someone who could taunt and tease Lucien within an inch of his life?

Thematically, Lucien has also struggled with the concept of home. He has bounced from court to court, facing different forms of abuse and control. He has never been truly free or comfortable anywhere he has lived. And he doesn't feel truly free or comfortable in Velaris. In fact, he can't stand it.

This is similar to what happened with Jesminda and the Autumn court. Her people no longer welcome Lucien because they believe he is responsible for what happened to her. Lucien doesn't want to return to Tamlin, but Spring was his home, and now he can't return there either because those outside of the high lords manor hate him for believing him being complicit.

Lucien and Vassa are also tied thematically through themes of manipulation and two faced people selling them out.

Which again, brings us full circle to L/ucien's theme of passivity. He believes he did not protect Jesminda. That her death was a betrayal of trust. This is a deep wound that needs healing.

Meanwhile, when it comes to Elain, he has maintained a passive stance. He is always telling others to get her back, or take her here, or do this. But if something were to happen to her, he never would have been the one to step in and stop it. He is repeating his passive behavior with Elain, beyond simply staying away from her. The theme is rooted much more deeply than that. It is tied to his past traumas and failures.

Meanwhile, when it comes to Vassa, he stares out to sea and sets a target on Koschei.

Elain is not going to be the one to shake L/ucien out of passivity and into action. Vassa is. And my understanding is that even E/ucien's believe this is true, they just assume Elain will be required for some reason. But what the E/ucien version of saving Vassa lacks is thematic resolution. Character arc and growth. L/cien's love interest being the foil to his passivity. Forcing Elain into the saving Vassa storyline makes it less of an emotional growth arc for all characters involved.

So no, I don't think Elain is right for L/cien, and I don't think L/cien thinks she is either. He is going to have to step up and fight for his woman. He has to face ghosts haunting him, and the fact that he didn't protect the woman he loves in the past. He is showing no protective, proactive behavior towards Elain. He *is* showing protective, proactive behavior with Vassa.

Azriel is not showing the ability to find peace and rest and breaks from work and training with G/wyn. He *is* showing the ability to find peace and rest and breaks from training with Elain. He is not showing an ability to let his hands touch someone's skin and work through the traumatic feelings that can bring up with G/wyn. He *is* experiencing that with Elain.

Obviously Elain's choice is theme, and we all know where that is headed. But it IS worthwhile to (occasionally 😝) pay attention to the men and their deeper traumas, threads and themes, and look at where the work of storytelling is already healing those things as opposed to putting the emotional labor on the women of the story to magically fix their men in their future books.

Phew, this wound up being a lot longer than I intended for it to be! I also agree that there are a lot of women projecting an incredible amount of internalized misogyny and frankly the least woman first takes I have ever seen in this fandom. It's disheartening and bizarre, especially when there is so much fantasy written by men where women solely exist to get r/aped or fill the needs of men. We should be celebrating stories written by women and for women, and appreciate authors who push against the societal norms of the roles women play in fantasy books and in real life.

[toutvatoujoursbien]

midnight thoughts (i hope i don't regret this)

Let me preface this by saying that these are just (very, very long) ramblings I’ve had in my head over the past few days and are MY opinions. I never post to Tumblr, but my level of emotional unhinged-ness right now needs an outlet so that I can process everything and feel, well, less unhinged.

I have never been this enamored with any celebrity or promo for a show like I have for this season of Bridgerton. Admittedly, I am a fan of the books and Penelope & Colin are my favorite couple. I’m going to age myself by saying that I read the series almost 20-ish years ago; past me could have never imagined I would actually get to see a Regency romance on my screen. Romances are for the girlies, and what the girlies like tends to be mocked, ridiculed, and not taken seriously - I’ve seen this time and time again across many different fandoms. I also really enjoy the tv series for being its own creative adaptation. I’ve liked many (though not all) of the changes they’ve made to the show; and I’ve liked all the little nods to the books that have been sprinkled in. Are the books or show perfect? Of course not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t love them for bringing me some entertainment and joy and escapism. I think that’s the beauty of it, I get to have the best of both worlds, so to speak. And for me personally, it’s been so fun to watch the press coverage over the past six or so months. As a fandom, I think we’ve been EXTREMELY well fed. 

Having Nicola and Luke as the leads has been a true blessing; I think/hope folks can tell how much they clearly love and understand their characters/roles. I know everyone has been talking nonstop about their chemistry and their close friendship, which I think is beautiful, truly unique and special. How can you not enjoy watching two people, who seem to genuinely like one other, talk endlessly about a project that they love and have poured so much into? And the way they have supported one another, not only during promo, but during their years of friendship? Astonishing, really. So while I am old enough to know better than to ship real people, I would’t blame anyone (myself included) if they got caught up in the whirlwind excitement and couldn’t help but wonder a sincere “What if?” (At least that was the case for me.) Isn’t that the beauty of hope and possibility and potential? Like, I knew rationally and intellectually that the likelihood of them being together was low, but damn if I didn’t feel giddy seeing their interviews, reading articles, and watching video after video.

“Oh, but it’s all PR!” they cry. Maybe, but like most of life, I don’t think it’s so simple or clear. I think there’s been a lot of nuance and perhaps some blurring of the lines during this promo tour. As long as we are respectful about it and realize that at the end of the day, the only opinions that matter in regards to their relationship are N & L’s, I don’t think some lighthearted dreaming is unheard of. We have to remember, though, that what we’re shown is only a fraction of their true selves, carefully and deliberately curated to accommodate their status as actors/celebrities/those in the public eye. 

(And yes, I know this is the internet and therefore everyone has an opinion - again, myself included. But I struggle to understand why some people think that their opinions should be deemed THE most important to the discussion or would have an impact on any type of outcome, especially in this particular scenario… I hope it’s obvious I’m referring to the very vocal people that chose to expend their energy in hateful, negative ways. Aren’t you exhausted?

However, as a longtime lurker, I have to admit it’s been absolutely fascinating reading all the different perspectives and takes on this too. I think reading other POVs and seeing people articulate points that challenge me and make me think is a good thing - again, as long as it’s all in a respectful manner. 

Also I have spent literal years curating and cultivating a social media bubble that doesn’t make me want to cry or give up on life. I don’t seek out negativity and hate - constructive criticism for a thing is a different matter. It may be “putting blinders up,” but honestly, real life can be a shitty enough place that I would like to spend my limited time online looking at cute things and learning or reading about stuff that makes me feel less alone in the world.)

Last week, I stayed off social media to avoid Bridgerton spoilers until I could watch Part 2. I did open Twitter on Thursday to check on something that was entirely unrelated, saw the absolute meltdown of a shitstorm brewing and quickly NOPED out of it. (I was also reminded of why Twitter scares me at times. And I'm not calling it X because that is stupid.) When I finally caught up over the weekend (both with Bridgerton and… all the other stuff 😅), I felt like I was experiencing mental and emotional whiplash.

Look, ultimately, I don’t know them personally and know even less about their private lives. As an outside observer (even though, yes, I have a vested interest in them), Nicola is fucking amazing and Luke seems to be a nice, sweet guy. I think they are each others support, and it has been mentioned many times that she has helped him deal with the intensity/anxiety of being in the spotlight this season. So here are some potentially hot takes: I just think, when they’re together, it’s like he’s a different, better person. When he soaks up even a little bit of her light (sorry, I had to), I can see all the qualities in him that she is constantly gushing about. But, and again this is my take on it, I also think he has a lot of growing up to do. I don’t know much about his supposed “hot/fuck boy summer,” but it seems to me that he’s perhaps going through his own Colin phase, which he can totally do. I genuinely want to see him and Nic succeed. However, I do think he’s got to get a better handling on his media image now (this whole thing reeks of a PR nightmare, but I need to take off my comms professional hat). The way this has all played out has been, imo, a clusterfuck. There are other issues that I’m also not going to get into at the moment. 

The thing that frustrated me the most is the timing of those “leaked” photos. You’re telling me that N&L went through SIX months of a - literal - worldwide promo tour, building up hype, doing countless interviews and appearances, etc., only to have these pap pictures “captured” on the night of the Pt. 2 London premiere??? And yes, while I’m aware there were rumblings of a gf being at various events/locations, I didn’t pay much attention to it (read: my curated social media bubble, lol). And I think the lack of confirmation up to that point from Luke and his team just mades things even more tricky/messy. So when the inevitable backlash played out online, piled on top of the hate Polin seems to get from many corners of the internet (Is it ship wars? Regular trolls just trolling? Polin and/or Lukola antis? People who, for whatever reason, don’t like the actors themselves or, worse, don’t like the creative choices/decisions made by the higher-ups and therefore deem it okay to spread hate online? All of the above, most likely.), I know I felt like I had been hit by a train.

Here’s my point: I think what should have been a moment of triumph and a joyous occasion for Nic, Luke, and Bridgerton season 3, was sadly overshadowed by the aforementioned shitstorm. And that’s a damn shame. Too many cast and crew put in a lot of time, effort, and blood sweat and tears, to pull this all together. I was happy with Season 3, which perhaps I will deep dive about in another post because this one has already spiraled out of control. Were there things I wished they had included or, rather, things that could have been left out? Yes, of course. But at the end of the day, I think we got a beautiful story led by two actors who love Polin as much as we do. And I cannot wait to see them back for Season 4. Plus, seriously, those viewing numbers alone should have been mostly what people are talking about. I hope all this doesn’t take away from the overall impact of the show and season.

I think it’s okay to be disappointed by all the stuff that has come out over the last few days. I think it’s perfectly human to want/need to process your thoughts and emotions. What is NOT OKAY is sending hate to anyone, period. And I hope you don’t let all that has happened sour your enjoyment of Season 3 and/or Polin.

Lastly, if you take anything away from this long ass post, it’s that Nicola is a GODDAMN QUEEN. Anyone who says otherwise is speaking slander and we do not stand for that in this house. She has carried herself during this time with grace, charm, and poise, consistently and constantly. And she is always ready for a mega fashion moment. She must be exhausted - already on to her next film/job but also perpetually online, and even stepping up to defend her costar. I may have to do a whole separate post just gushing about her and add to all the people already singing her praises. (And as a big fuck you to all the haters.)

Geez Louise, I clearly have a lot of feelings (more than I allowed myself to believe I did…). But I would love to hear what others think! Please, I need friends with whom I can have rational (okay, maybe slightly unhinged), spirited, deep analyses and discussion of this whole thing, or anything else we might have in common!

[quitealotofsodapop]

DBK is most certainly confused as hell! But the moment he hears Wukong is in Danger, he's all on storming the Celestial Palace against his former brother's, this time with permission from his in-laws! It's also during this situation the truth about his rampage 500 years ago becomes known to the Celestial Realm. Xiwangmu, who has figured out Uwkong was not pregnant on the Journey, has even more reason to respect DBK.

Prev.

DBK is all sorts of messed up when he gets revived, but he immediately softens when he hears a tiny excited "BABA!" at his hoof. Immediately the feared demon king drops to his knees to embrace his child, barely larger since he last saw him centuries ago. His wife is close behind, cupping her husband's face and peppering him with kisses as she sobs with joy.

Red Son and Iron Fan are the only people who matter to DBK in that moment.

Then he notices his in-laws. And what appears to be the Pilgrims? Why are they all here?

DBK: (*finally gets a good look at the room/construction site*) The Room: (*His wife's parents, her nephew, and her cousin are all watching him closely. A pair of dragons + their pup stay at a safe distance. Macaque is alive again and is struggling to keep the Staff upright. And a trio of Pilgrim-looking fellows look extremely out-of-place.*) DBK: "Uh... ok, I am completely at a loss for what is happening right now." Nezha: "The Brotherhood have taken over Heaven. Azure Lion has taken the Emperor's power for himself, and taken Sun Wukong as a hostage." DBK: "Those fools! But, why is Wukong unable to fight back against them?" Macaque: "He's very weak from delivering a stone egg." DBK: "HE DID WHAT!? After I nearly ripped heaven asunder to prevent him from doing so!" Tang, history nerding: "Wait - that was the reason for your rampage 500 years ago?! You were trying to stop Wukong from creating his Stone Egg?" DBK: "Of course! He approached me to act as a vigil for Flower Fruit Mountain while he buried himself. When I discovered that the process is more often-than-not fatal, I became adamant on distracting Wukong by any means necessary!" Nezha: "You were not successful, sadly. Me and Iron Fan kept watch for the last 5 centuries - though I was not given context on why. I now understand why that was. I nearly strangled Wukong when I learned what the purpose of his "meditation" was." DBK, surprised: "Truly?" Pigsy, gesturing to the Ao-Long's: "Yeah, it was only when a certain baby dragon got lost playing with your kid did anyone know about this." Mei, puts up hand proudly: "I dug up Uncie Wu!" (*DBK turns to PIF, his face uncertain*) DBK: "My love, is this all true?" PIF, nodding: "Yes dear. When I saw the reincarnations of Wukong's pilgrim brothers touch upon the island, I sensed that it was time to slowly reunite our family. I retrieved Red Son from Guanyin, and of course, you know how much trouble he can get into on a good day. Eventually, things got a little away from us when Macaque came back into our lives - you must see the recording of the Trial that happened because of that. And of course my parents eventually found out about their grandson from my involvement." Red Son, smiling proudly: "I set the Jade Emperor on fire!" Jade Emperor: "He did." Xiwangmu: (*hiding fond laughter behind her sleeves*) DBK, turns to face his in-laws: "In that case, I will accept any rapport offered to me in kind. My main priority is my family, and if Iron Fan wishes to include you in it - I would honour her choice." Sandy: "Guess, thats gonna include Mr Monkey King now too, huh?" DBK: "What?" Pigsy, getting frustrated: "We'll explain it later!"

So yeah, big brother Bull got some ears to shout off, and a few former-Brothers to interrogate.

Yellow Tusk actually breathes a sigh of relief to see DBK burst through the cloud layer into the Celestial Realm, furiously shouting "SUN WUKONG!" as he charges at the doors to the throne room. Finally a good distraction.

[fandoms-are-my-friends-1321]

Clueless is an Understatement

This may not be the original idea for Rayne that I had, but at the same time, it is an extremely adorable request that I could not refuse! Plus it allows me to try and write a character that is similar to Mash (I love his brainless antics). I hope that you enjoy this fanfic @jennapancake! Thank you again for the request! Gifs are not mine.

Summary: Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling, followed him to Easton Magic Academy to help protect him on his quest to become a divine visionary. Along the way, they caught the attention of Rayne Ames, who is absolutely smitten by Y/N. The only problem: Y/N does not know how to take a hint.

Warnings: reader has some small injuries, mentions of blood, otherwise none (but if I miss something let me know!)

In a world where magic users dominate the population, there were two non-magic users who were hoping to change their fates and prove that magic was not the only thing that made a person worthy in the eyes of higher powers. The first one was Mash Burnedead: a boy who relied only on his powerful muscles in order to become the divine visionary and allow his family to live in peace. The other is Y/N Burnedead, Mash's older sibling who is also a non-magic user and just as strong as their younger brother. Y/N knew that Mash would face a lot of dangerous challenges and potentially evil foes during his time at Easton Magic Academy, so they took it upon themselves to take the entrance exam as well and help Mash on his quest.

At first, many of the other students wondered why a person as old as Y/N waited so long to join the academy, but they made up the excuse that they were simply too nervous to participate in the entrance exam until now. Of course this was far from the case due to Y/N's trust in their own muscular strength, but it was a necessary lie to keep people off of their backs. Y/N and Mash only allowed trusted friends to know their non-magic status, or the more accurate truth, they all found out after the battle with the Magia Lupis.

"Dude, I still can't believe you have no magic power at all! That is total side character ener-," Y/N smacked Dot across the face before he could finish his sentence.

"And yet you let a side character show you up," Y/N said as they dusted off their uniform. Y/N walked over to Mash and ruffled his hair, causing him to mumble as he tried to fix it. "Come on, you know I don't like my hair being messed with, Y/N."

"I couldn't help it, little brother. You are just too precious sometimes," Y/N said in a monotone and yet excited voice. "Don't forget we have our workout scheduled for 3 today after my classes are finished, and I can't wait to out rep you today."

Mash shook his head from side to side. "Only in your dreams, sibling."

Despite being a first year, Y/N managed to be placed in some upper level courses at Easton, one of which being the Study of Magical Creatures. Rayne Ames, a current divine visionary and the older sibling of Y/N and Mash's friend Finn, also helped to pull some strings for the older Burnedead. It's not that he doubted their prowess, and if anything, it was their power that Rayne admired along with their beauty and talents. However, some of the professors were still skeptical of Y/N and Mash when it came to their "magic" abilities, so he offered his support in their favor.

Today's class would be taking place outside in one of the open pastures by the school, with today's lesson involving herding and calming wild Wrivian's, horse-dragon hybrids that were the size of a small cottage. Rayne was waiting patiently for Y/N to arrive for class, and he caught himself checking his robe for any stray crumbs from lunch. He never used to worry about his appearance since he is usually well-kept, and yet ever since he met Y/N, he felt the need to look even more pristine when he knew they would be around.

Not that Y/N would notice the small details to begin with...

Y/N arrived a few minutes before class began, and Rayne waved at them as they approached. "Good afternoon, Y/N. Are you ready for today's class?" Rayne stated with a slight smile.

Y/N clenched their fist as they took on a fighting pose. "I was born ready, Rayne. Any challenge that these Wrivian's bring, I will take each one down with my fist."

Rayne let out a chuckle as he moved to stand beside them. "I thought you would say something along those lines."

The professor explained the task to the students, making sure to reiterate that no harm should be brought to any of the Wrivian's or they would fail the assignment. All the students broke off into pairs, which would make wrangling the beasts an easy task, but Y/N and Rayne faced more difficulties. Rayne used frontal attacks with Partisan to deflect the fiery breath from the Wrivian, the creature's emerald scales flexing as it weaved expertly through the air. Y/N took more of a distraction approach as they waited for the right time to strike.

"Y/N, they have a blind spot if you move to the right! Now is the time to tame this beast! Remember, avoid harm at all costs!" Rayne instructed as he launched the silvery swords of Partisan one last time.

"Kay', taming magic activate!" Y/N shouted the fake spell as they squatted and leaped into the air, easily reaching the Wrivian hovering in the sky. Y/N grabbed the Wrivian around it's broad neck, the rough texture of the scales cutting into their hands as their weight brought them and the creature back down to the ground. The cloud of dust and the immense crash had Rayne worried, not so much about failing the assignment but for Y/N's safety. I really have fallen for them, Rayne thought as he dashed to the scene. He expected to see the Wrivian knocked out from Y/N's brute strength, but Rayne was shocked to see that the creature did not have a scratch on it. If anything, it seemed quite happy as it expertly stole a cream puff from Y/N's cloak.

"Hey, that's my afternoon cream puff," Y/N whined at first as they looked up at the beast with a minor frown, but as the Wrivian let out a whinny at the sweet treat, Y/N sighed in defeat as their head drooped. "Then again, it seems to be making you pretty happy too."

Rayne gasped as he knelt down by Y/N, who was too distracted by the loss of their cream puff to notice the crimson liquid dripping from their hands. Rayne placed his hands on Y/N's forearms and lifted them up, his cheeks dusting with pink as he felt the muscles under their cloak. "You're hurt, Y/N. Please, let me take you to the infirmary and help bandage your wounds."

Y/N looked down at their hands and blinked. "Oh, looks like I am bleeding, huh? Oopsies." Rayne playfully rolled his eyes at Y/N's unawareness as he helped them to their feet, an arm wrapping protectively around their waist despite Y/N's ability to walk. Y/N's brows furrowed as they looked at Rayne. "Why is your arm around my waist if I can walk?"

"Just a precaution to make sure that you have no underlying injuries," Rayne replied.

"But you can see me walking, Rayne? Are you sure I need assistance?"

The two students finally arrived at the infirmary, and Y/N sat on one of the medical beds while Rayne treated their wounds. He started by cleaning the cuts and applying alcohol to the wounds, causing Y/N to flinch. "Ouchie, that burns a little." Rayne only smiled as his golden eyes remained filled with adoration. Once Y/N was all bandaged up, Rayne laid a kiss on each of their hands. "There, you should be fully healed in a few days."

Y/N tilted their head. "Was that a magic healing spell? Can you teach it to me?"

Rayne smirked as he ruffled his blonde streaked hair. "I could probably teach you the spell over dinner. Would you care to join me?"

"Well I would, but Mash and the others always go to dinner with me on this day of the week. I am making cream puff this evening, if you wanted to join, and the others would be happy to see you." Y/N rambled as they tapped their chin.

"We can bring the cream puff to them when we are finished, but I need your full attention to teach you this spell," Rayne said as he tried to find a way to spend time alone with Y/N. He adored the others yes, especially his brother Finn, but he had longed to ask Y/N on a date for some time now. There was something about them that was charming and adorable, and Rayne could not resist them. Y/N's eyes widened as they absorbed Rayne's words. "Ohh that makes more sense. I will see you then, Rayne." With that, Y/N hopped off the medical bed and left with a brief wave as Rayne started to devise a game plan for tonight.

............................................................................................................................

Rayne arrived at the dorm kitchens around the time Y/N had specified, a bouquet of their favorite flowers in hand. He entered the kitchen and was greeted by Y/N wearing a frilly apron that matched the one that Mash typically wore. They were currently whisking the eggs for the cream puffs with calculated precision. Rayne smiled as he leaned over the counter and presented the flowers to Y/N. "I brought these for you, Y/N, and I hope that you will enjoy them."

Y/N halted their whisking and took the flowers from Rayne, eagerly sniffing the fresh blooms. "These smell like the flowers back home, but I don't know if they will taste good in the cream puffs."

"They won't be going in the cream puffs, you dork. They are for you to look at and admire from afar." Rayne explained as he conjured up a glass vase. Y/N let out an exclamation of excitement as they tapped the vase to see if it was real before going back to whisking. Rayne rested his head in his hand as he watched Y/N make the cream puffs from memory. While the cream puffs were baking, Rayne took this as a sign to make his feelings known. "I am excited to try these delicious cream puffs, but I have no doubt that they will not be as sweet as you are."

"I always put four cups of sugar into the dough, and along with this custard cream, they will be the perfect amount of sweetness." Y/N assured as they plopped down in the seat next to Rayne. They perked up as they remembered the conversation they had with Rayne earlier. "Oh, you said you would teach me that healing spell? Unlike my brother, I can learn things pretty quickly."

An idea materialized in Rayne's head as he pretended to pop his knuckles. "Luckily, this spell does not require a wand like most spells, and I believe that you have the abilities and strength to master this spell in no time. Firstly, you take the hands of the person that you want to heal." Rayne turned to face Y/N as they took their hands in his, the bandages from earlier soft to the touch, but Rayne wished he could feel Y/N's actual hands instead. Y/N continued to absorb the instructions like a sponge as they replied with a "got it".

"Next, you approach the subject closer so you can determine the state of their injuries." Rayne closed the gap between him and Y/N until their face's were inches apart, allowing him to admire all of the amazing features of Y/N's face. He swore that no deity could be more gorgeous than them. Y/N nodded as they maintained eye contact with Rayne and made sure to process each step clearly. "Finally," Rayne started as he placed a hand on Y/N's cheek, "You perform the healing spell." Before Rayne could complete his plan, the loud ding of the oven interrupted him, and Y/N shot up from their seat faster than a lightning strike. "Cream puffs are done!" They shouted excitedly.

Y/N finalized the delicious treats and handed the first ones to Rayne. He bit into the pastry and hummed with delight as Y/N ate their portion of the cream puffs in a few gulps. "These are perfect, Y/N, and I must admit that this would make for a perfect date," Rayne said as he smiled more than he had in months. Y/N was once again confused.

"Isn't that a type of fruit?"

"Yes, you are correct, but it is also the time spent between two individuals that care about each other as a way to show affection for one another. Y/N Burnedead, I care about you more and more each and every day, and I would destroy every evil force in this magical realm if it means that you are safe by my side. I would be yours if that is what you wish, but if you need more time, I understand completely." Rayne blushed as he rubbed the back of his neck, but Y/N still could not see the full picture.

"I could help you beat up the villains instead, but I would need to focus on more bicep training first. Maybe Mash would know-," Y/N's sentence was cut short as Rayne gently pressed his lips against theirs as his hand returned to caress their cheek once again. Y/N did not fully understand what to do, but they did enjoy the feeling of Rayne being so close to them. When Rayne pulled away, the realization of his words and actions finally set in, and Y/N turned as red as the strawberries they used in the cream puffs. Y/N's brain started to short circuit as the affection became to much. "I-I-I guess that t-t-this makes us a, makes us a..."

Rayne kissed Y/N's cheek as a genuine laugh rumbled in his chest. "Yes, this makes us a couple, if that is what you desire. There is no one in all of Easton that would make a better match for a divine visionary."

Y/N could not help but smile as they fiddled with their hands. "I-I would like that very much."

Bonus:

"Did you save some cream puffs for me?"

"Of course, I always save the perfect ones for my favorite little sibling." Y/N handed over the cream puffs to Mash as he excitedly munched on the pastries. Lemon and Finn had just entered the room, and Lemon could not help but squeal as she nudged Y/N with her elbow. "And I heard that Y/N made cream puffs with the Rayne Ames last night!!! So, did anything exciting happen?! I must know!!"

Y/N shrugged as they took a bite from their own cream puff. "Rayne taught me a new spell while I made the cream puffs. We also kissed, and now we are dating. Nothing too exciting though."

Lemon screamed with joy as she nearly fainted at the news, but it was Finn whose jaw dropped as he flailed his arms in the air. "YOU'RE DATING MY BROTHER?! AND YOU KISSED?! I did not need to know that!!" Finn dashed from the room as his face flushed with embarrassment, but Lemon wanted to hear more.

"So, do you want to go over wedding plans with me?"

Tag list: @mayurin17, @thebasicbword, @kemis-world, @sereniteav