#it’s been four years and i’m still not over it

[robinsgrl]

FEARLESS

chapter four. doors and burgers

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pairing ⇢ rafe cameron x plus size!reader

word count ⇢ 2.2k

warnings ⇢ fatphobia, insecurities, panic attack, boobies lol, Scarlett should be her own warning, daddy issues,

authors note ⇢ sorry that i messed up on my last post yall!! i confused scarlett with heather. she was supposed to be Heather but i was like….. heathers get too much crap thank you conan 😒 and i forgot to change it lol sorry!!! also i rewrote this like five times and i this was the one i was most satisfied with, so enjoy!!

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Scarlett leaves from what you can tell. People are talking about the kitchen debacle and there are mixed reviews. Some are still kissing Scarlett’s ass, others don’t like her any longer. But it doesn’t seem anyone’s on your side. You’re still invisible. You’ve since taken off your jacket that was drenched and Rafe has given you his. It’s big but it doesn’t cover you entirely, and that makes you feel so damn embarrassed.

Despite your mission being to get Jonah to see you, neither of you can find him anywhere. Kiara and Sarah had their eyes out for him as well but they’ve since lost the mission at hand. Now, you’re all sat in the living room where there are a few people dancing around Sarah who’s singing obnoxiously bad on the karaoke machine. No one has any idea where it came from but everyone is loving it.

You’re clapping along with Kiara, laughing when Sarah messes up another lyric and blames the song. For the first time in what seems like a long time, Rafe isn’t drinking. He isn’t doing much of anything but staying by your side. He’s sitting beside you, watching his sister with amusement. He refuses to clap though, only doing it when you reach over to lift his hands and make him clap.

It’s Kiara’s turn to sing when you get up off the couch and look for the bathroom in the huge figure 8 house. The home has photographs scattered, a happy family shown in them all. It might just be the beer in you that makes you want to cry. You’ve seen the kid around school before and he isn’t anything to you. Anything at all. But you’re wishing him the best. Yeah, you realize it’s the beer.

You stumble into a random room and let out a screech when a body gets up from a bed.

“What are you doing here?” Jonah’s voice sends a flutter through your belly. Your belly. Your stomach. You take a hold of Rafe’s jacket and tighten it around yourself, hiding your body from the guy you want badly.

“Oh… uhm…” you wipe the tears from your eyes that had bled out at the family pictures. “I’m looking for the bathroom.”

He’s immediately up on his feet at the sight of your tears. Your eyes widen when his hands take a hold of your round face and examines you carefully. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Your breath hitches at the feel of his warm hand. It’s soft. Far too soft for a man who puts his all into the gym and football. “Oh? I… uhm… haha, what? Yeah? I'm… I’m fine. Just…” you sniffle and gently move his hand from your face. You’re refusing to meet his eyes,shy about your sadness. “The pictures… they look so happy.”

The look on his face makes you want to run away. And then, he laughs. “You’re crying because Tommy and his family look happy?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, stuck. “It’s not a bad thing.” Are his words when he seems to realize how stunned you feel. “It’s… adorable.”

You fumble your words, “oh, I, uhm, yeah, okay, that’s… yeah.” To have the guy you’ve been into for years call you such a word is a rush. A scary one. But you like it. And whatever it is you did, you wish you could keep doing it until he saw you as you saw him. Perfect.

You’re still standing by the door of the random bedroom and it’d be easy to just run off. But you can’t. Making a fool of yourself in front of Jonah will only make your plan harder. And Rafe would kill you for letting his effort go to waste. “What are you doing in here?” It comes out more abrasive than you wished, internally scolding yourself.

But he doesn’t seem to mind. Rather, he takes his seat back on the bed and shrugs. “It’s noisy.”

You understand. You really, really do. And you want to say it aloud but your tongue is tied as you watch him throw his head back, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows gently. After a moment, you semi-gather yourself. “Did you leave cause of Sarah?” You joke lightly. “That’s what made me leave.”

This garners a soft laugh out of him and you want to jump up and squeal. But Rafe told you to act nonchalant. “Yeah, she’s certainly… singing.”

You take one step away from the door. Just one. You were going to sit beside him. You were going to talk to him. Really talk to him.

The door behind you swings open and hits your head. Hard. “What the fuck?” Jonah’s quick on his feet, rushing to you in a panic. You turn to look at the culprit and your frown turns into a glare. Rafe.

“What the fuck, Rafe?!” You hiss, sending a punch to his shoulder.

“Why were you standing so near the door?!”

“Why would you swing it open like a maniac?!”

“It’s not my fault you were standing there—“

“Maybe don’t open doors like that—“

“Oh, shut up, do you ever not complain—“

“Says you! You’re, like, the king of complaining—“

“King? King—“

“Should I leave?” Jonah’s soft voice speaks and you shove Rafe’s face as you look at him and smile.

“N-no, you shouldn’t have to. He was just leaving.”

“I was? I don’t— ow, fuck, okay, I’m leaving.”

The mood was ruined. Whatever mood Jonah was in was gone. And so was your confidence. It's awkward as you sit next to him on the bed. The palm of your hands are on your knees, anxiously rubbing at them. He’s laid back on the bed, arm crossed over his eyes, the only thing telling you he’s up is the soft twitch of his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” His voice cuts through the thick silence.

Panicked, you glance over at him with wide eyes. “Does… does what hurt?”

“Your head. He opened the door pretty hard.” He still doesn’t move from his position and you’re grateful he’s not looking at you. You do better when people can’t perceive you.

“Oh, my head… yeah, it’s fine, doesn’t hurt. I-it’s a little sore but I’ll make him pay for it.” You shrug, fixing Rafe’s jacket on your body.

“You two are close.” It’s supposed to be a question. It doesn’t sound like one.

You shake your head despite his eyes being covered up. “Not really. I… he’s nice but we’re not like friends.”

He sits back up and this makes you tense up, looking straight ahead at that damn door you hate now. “Just never seen him with anyone but his same three friends.”

“I’m friends with Sarah. We’re just… around each other more.” It’s a lie. But you don’t believe Rafe would want people to know just how much time you’re really spending together. The less people that know, the better.

“You and Scarlett are really done?” He questions, eyes on you. But you can’t look over at him. You’re stiff and awkward and unsure of how to act around him.

You nod softly, “y-yeah… she’s, uhm, not a very nice person.”

It’s quiet for another moment. “She’s been running her mouth about you. Calling you names. Really bad names. And all you can say is ‘she's not nice’?”

Hearing that she’s still talking about you is a punch to the guy and suddenly you don’t care about your crush. You don’t care that you two are sitting so close to each other. All you can think is how horrible she truly is. How blinded you were. And how stupid you feel for missing her. “Well… just because others are doing bad things, doesn’t mean I should. Be the bigger person and whatnot.” You let out a small and awkward laugh to try and shrug off what you’re really feeling.

“Wow.” Are his words as he gets up off the bed and walks to the dresser of the bedroom and picking up a magazine. “You’re really not like other girls.” An even bigger punch to the gut. Logically, you know he’s trying to be kind. He’s only saying this to make you feel better, your feelings on Scarlett written all over your face.

You don’t wear makeup, not like other girls do. You don’t dress up, not like other girls do. You don’t giggle over guys, not like other girls do. You don’t go out and have fun, not like other girls do. But you want to do it all. You want to be like other girls. You never felt worth it. Lipstick on a pig. You’re too big to fit trendy clothes. You don’t giggle over guys because they’d be disgusted that you’re into them. You don’t go out because you’d be the biggest out of the group of girls that are around you. You’d be an eyesore.

In a frantic move, you get up off the bed. “Right. Well, I, uh… I have to go.”

“Huh? What—“ but you don’t pay any attention to his words as you rush out of the random bedroom. There are kids littering the hallway. The steps are being used as seats, shoving people slightly as you go. The music is loud. Too loud. You can feel it bouncing in your eardrums and filling your already muddled thoughts. Theres nothing you can think about other than getting out of that damn house. And in your panicked stupor, you can’t find the damn. The house is too damn big.

There’s a couple making out in the bathroom when you rush inside and when they see the fear in your eyes, they rush out, leaving you to be.

The drive isn’t awkward. Not like you thought it would be. He didn’t question you. And despite his last text, he didn’t bring it up. And you’re grateful he didn’t.

“Where are we going?” You ask when you realize you’re headed downtown. “I want to go home, Rafe.”

He shrugs, hands on the wheel. “I’m hungry. We’re just stopping by The Wreck real quick.”

He doesn’t ask you to get down with him. He parks, heads inside, and he’s out fifteen minutes later. But he doesn’t start driving. In fact, he immediately takes a bite out of his burger, your food untouched on your lap.

“You’re not gonna eat?” He asks with his mouth full, but you don’t grimace like you should. You grab a napkin and hands it to him but he shakes his head refusing it.

“You’re dirty.”

“And you’re not eating.” He swallows his food.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You’re lying.”

“So because I'm fat, I must be hungry?” It’s a joke but the look he gives you tells you he’s not amused in the slightest. “Tough crowd. Seriously, I'm not hungry.”

“Is this that thing where you don’t eat in front of people cause you’re with a guy? Sarah told me it’s some shit she does.”

“It’s that thing where I’m not hungry, actually.” But it smells divine. Usually, you’d happily eat this but after tonight, you’re not sure if you’ll ever eat greasy foods again.

He scoffs, putting his burger down and holding a fry up at you. “Try the fry.”

“You try the fry.”

“I already did. Seriously, my mom had this trick while we were growing up. Sarah always swore she wasn’t hungry and wouldn’t get anything to eat but she’d make her try something from the plate to realize how hungry she really was.”

“How old was she?”

“My mom? She was pushing forty.”

You glare at the proud look on his face at his joke. “Sarah, stupid.”

“I don’t know… seven?”

“You’re treating me like a seven year old?”

“Try. The. Fry.” He swipes it across your lips and this gets a laugh out of you, shoving him away.

“Okay, okay! I’ll eat a fry. But that one has lipstick all over it now.” You pick a fry from his and he squints his eyes at you.

“You have a perfectly good batch.”

You pop the fry into your mouth with a content smile. “Not as good as yours.” And he was right. The salt and buttery soft fry proved to be true— you are hungry.

With a sigh, you grab your burger and say— “okay… just… don’t look.”

This amuses him. “Don’t look at you eat your burger? Well, there goes my spank bank.”

“Ew, Rafe!” You laugh, nose scrunching at his crude words.

You take a bite of your burger. And it’s absolutely delicious. Just like you knew it would be. Instead of worrying over stuffed up cheeks or looking fat while eating, you share laughs, mouths full and not a single care.

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[solarhysm]

"what’s your name again?" | JEON JUNGKOOK [FOLLOWERS POLL’s CHOICE]

one shot

> summary: jungkook met you at a costume party for the new year eve. you're bold, drunk and horny.

> pairing: jungkook x reader

> genre: small smut, one shot (shorter than i thought tho)

> warnings: smut, protected sex!!, public quickie in the female restroom (i'm not good with warning)

> word count: 2.8k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

Jungkook never likes masked parties. But when Hoseok suggests going to one where everyone is in costumes, he reluctantly agrees. He has nothing better to do for New Year’s Eve anyway, and it seems better than drinking alone in his apartment. He sighs as someone bumps into him—that’s why he avoids crowded places.

Everyone wears costumes as if it’s Halloween. He’s not surprised to see most of the women in tight, short dresses. Jungkook considered dressing as a character from Squid Game but decided against it—there are already too many of them here.

Instead, he throws on his old Spider-Man costume from Halloween three years ago. It’s been gathering dust in his closet, but it saves him time and money. To account for the cold, he adds gray joggers and an old black sweatshirt. Tonight, he’s not Peter Parker but Miles Morales. He doubts anyone will notice the reference, though.

“Damn, I didn’t expect it to be this crowded,” Jimin says, handing beers to his friends.

Jungkook glances around and nods. It’s New Year’s Eve, so of course, people their age are out celebrating.

“It’s been a shitty year,” Taehyung groans, downing his beer in one gulp before heading to the bar for something stronger. His girlfriend dumped him last month, and he’s still obsessively checking her Instagram, where she flaunts her new boyfriend.

Jungkook shakes his head, amused. It was a rough year. His grandfather was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, none of his romantic flings went anywhere, and the company he worked for went bankrupt. Now, he’s living with his parents –again- and working a terrible job under an abusive boss. He sighs and takes a sip of his beer.

“At least we’re still standing,” Hoseok says, ever the optimist.

As the night goes on, the four friends drink steadily in their corner of the nightclub. Taehyung ends up crying on Hoseok’s shoulder, while Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Taehyung whines. “I’m a good boyfriend! I used to bring her flowers all the time and give her all the attention she wants.”

“She’s a bitch. You’re a good guy,” Jungkook says, leaning closer so Taehyung can hear him over the music. “Stop wasting your tears on someone like her.”

“Maybe I’m bad in bed?”

“Stop it,” Jimin groans, grabbing Taehyung’s shoulder. “With your third leg, it’s definitely not about sex. Some women are just terrible people. Go find someone new tonight.”

“What?” Taehyung sniffles, while Jungkook silently gestures for Jimin to stop talking.

“Yeah, Tae,” Hoseok chimes in. “Find a girl, have some fun, and forget about her.”

Jungkook buries his face in his hands. Taehyung is too drunk for this advice. He’s not a one-night-stand type of guy and will probably end up vomiting on whoever he approaches.

“I need a smoke,” Jungkook mutters, getting up and wiping his hands on his joggers. He weaves through the crowd toward the exit, hating how packed the nightclub is.

“I’m sorry!” a voice gasps as their bodies collide. Jungkook instinctively grabs the stranger’s arm to steady them. Both of them are clearly tipsy, but they look more unsteady than he does.

His gaze falls on the person in front of him—his very own Gwen Stacy. The mask hides all of their face, but the costume piques his interest immediately.

“It’s my fault,” You begin. “I didn’t—” You stop mid-sentence when you look up at him. “Oh, Miles Morales!” You giggle, recognizing his costume. And your laugh makes him smile.

“Hi, Gwen,” Jungkook smirks, the alcohol making him bolder.

“Hi,” you reply as you both step outside into the chilly air. It’s a welcome relief from the stifling crowd inside. Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lighter.

“I like your costume,” he says, noticing you scanning the crowd inside, probably looking for your friends.

You remove your mask and smile. Jungkook doesn’t expect you to be this attractive—especially the kind of attractive he’s drawn to.

“Thanks. I like yours, even if it’s a little inaccurate,” you tease, making him chuckle.

You pull out your own cigarette, accepting his lighter with a nod of thanks.

“It’s too cold to be Spider-Man.”

“Well, not Tom Holland’s Spider-Man,” you quip, freeing your hair from the costume.

Jungkook’s eyes linger on you briefly before smirking. “Marvel fan?” he asks.

“Hm, you?”

“Hm.”

You’re pretty and a Marvel fan? Jungkook looks up at the dark sky, silently thanking the universe for this coincidence. Before he can come up with something to say, you speak again.

“I almost dressed as Wednesday Addams, but it’s way too cold for that,” you explain, and he nods.

“Wednesday was my first choice, too,” Jungkook jokes, making you laugh.

“I’m Y/N,” you say.

“Jungkook,” he replies.

“Did you come alone, Spiderman?” you ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

“I came with some friends.”

“Yeah, me too. It was either this or sleeping early. I figured it’d be more fun to get drunk,” you say, tossing the bud of your cigarette. Jungkook licks his lips with a smile. He guesses you’re a yapper, which is a good thing because he’s not drunk enough to talk freely without embarrassment. “Do you drink tequila shots, Spiderman?”

“Are you offering?” he teases, and you nod. “Alright.”

Even though he asks, once you’re at the bar ordering a round of six tequila shots, Jungkook is the one handing over his credit card to the bartender. You scold him, insisting you’ll pay for the next round. He’s just happy that you’re thinking about continuing the night with him, though he’s a little apprehensive about drinking more.

“Alright, on three,” you say with a smile, counting down before you both toss back the first shot and bite into a lemon. “Where are your friends?”

“Somewhere in the club,” Jungkook replies, his head nodding to the rhythm of the music.

You grab his hand and guide him to the dancefloor. Jungkook marvels at how easygoing you are. Most girls he meets play hard to get, but you’re different—just here, vibing with everyone around you. His smile widens as he watches you mimicking the dance steps of a guy dressed as a banana.

You burst into laughter when you mess up the choreography, and the banana-guy spins you back toward Jungkook, probably assuming the two of you came together. You stumble into his arms, your rosy cheeks and bright giggles captivating him even though he can barely hear it over the music.

After the fourth shot, Jungkook has to stop, reaching his limit. He isn’t used to drinking this much, especially tequila. But he chuckles, watching as you confidently take down two more. When you turn to him, he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Already?” you tease, giggling, and he rolls his eyes, amused. You finish the remaining shots by yourself, and he’s genuinely impressed. How can someone as small as you handle so much alcohol?

Jungkook blinks a few times, shaking his head. He’s almost certain you’re going to regret this if you keep bouncing around to the music like that.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, leaning closer, and he nods, patting his chest to settle the burn in his throat.

He grabs a bottle of water he ordered, takes a sip, and offers it to you. But you shake your head, and Jungkook can’t help but feel a strange responsibility to make sure you’re okay. You’ve only just met, but he’s already trying to sober you up a bit—anything to avoid you ending the night sick.

“Do you drink often?” Jungkook asks, grimacing as he takes another sip of water. He’s already done with tequila—probably for life.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you chuckle, your tone playful as you make him smile and shrug.

“Just that you definitely know how to hold your liquor.”

“I just needed to get drunk and forget this year,” you admit, tossing your hair over your shoulder.

“Do you want me to walk you to your friends?” Jungkook offers, his voice laced with concern.

“Are you tired of me, Spider-Man?” you joke, swaying slightly as you both half-dance to the pulsing music.

“W-What? No!” Jungkook stammers, looking adorably flustered, and you laugh at his reaction.

“I’m kidding,” you say, nudging his shoulder with a grin.

“Can… I have your number? Or maybe your social media?” he asks, leaning closer to your ear to make himself heard over the music. You pull back to meet his gaze, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders for balance. Both of you have hooded eyes, softened by the alcohol and dim lights.

Jungkook feels a rush of admiration for your boldness. You don’t care about the people around you or their opinions. His hand hesitates before resting on the small of your back. You tilt your head, your nose brushing his as your lips hover dangerously close.

“Do you want to have fun?” you murmur, your mouth brushing his ear, the music muffling everything else.

“What kind of fun?” he asks, his breath caressing your cheek. He feels himself leaning into the moment, emboldened by your energy. Why not? There’s nothing wrong with a little flirting with a stranger on New Year’s Eve.

You smirk slowly, your hand slipping into his to guide him off the dancefloor. Jungkook frowns slightly in confusion when you lead him into the women’s restroom. Before he can ask why, you cup his face, pulling him into a kiss that sends his heart racing.

He finds it thrilling—kissing someone he just met, in a place he’d never expect. It’s not the kind of fun he was imagining, but he’s definitely not complaining. You guide him blindly into one of the stalls, closing the door behind you as he presses you against it.

“What if someone catches us?” he whispers, his lips trailing along your jaw.

“We can stop if you want,” you reply, threading your fingers into his hair before pulling him into another heated kiss.

“No,” he says honestly, making you smile. “But we’re drunk.”

“Can’t get hard when you’re drunk?” you tease, your lips brushing the column of his neck. Jungkook chuckles darkly, grabbing your hand and guiding it to his joggers. Your eyes light up as you feel his growing arousal beneath the fabric.

Jungkook’s breath hitches as your hand starts to stroke him above his jogger. His mind races—this is new for him. He’s had his share of casual flings, but never with a stranger and never in public. Surprisingly, the thrill of possibly being caught makes the moment even more exhilarating.

He wonders if you’ve done this before—you seem so at ease. But before he can ask, your hand slides under the waistband of his joggers, palming his growing bulge. His eyes close almost instantly, a soft groan escaping him as your touch sends heat coursing through his body. His own hands find your backside, squeezing gently, grounding himself in the moment.

“Do you want to fuck me?” you whisper, nipping lightly at the sensitive skin of his neck.

“What—I—right now?” he stammers, wide-eyed, and you nod. Pressing your back against the door, you reach behind to unzip the bottom of your costume, your movements deliberate and teasing. Jungkook’s gaze remains locked on you, his mind racing.

His eyes widen further as he begins patting the pockets of his joggers in a frantic search for his wallet. He knows there’s a condom in there—he’s certain he hasn’t used it. A chance like this? No way he’s letting it slip by. He’s just a guy, after all, and if a beautiful woman wants him, Jungkook isn’t about to say no.

“What are you doing?” you ask, laughing as his wallet slips from his fumbling hands. He scrambles to catch it, earning another amused giggle from you.

When he finally retrieves the little plastic wrapper, he holds it up proudly. You smirk, pulling him into a heated kiss while he helps you peel off the bottom half of your costume. The black panties underneath match the dark tights perfectly, a sight that makes Jungkook’s breath hitch. His hands twitch at his sides, trying to maintain control.

“I’ve never done this before,” he admits softly, hiking your leg up to wrap around his waist, pressing you against him.

“Yeah, me neither,” you reply with a playful giggle, one hand gripping his shoulder for balance while the other threads through his messy hair. “New year, new experiences, right?”

“You’re really something else,” he chuckles, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief. His eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, and his hand slides between your thighs, fingertips brushing against you through the thin fabric of your panties.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head falling back against the door as your hips instinctively press into his touch. Your reaction sends a shiver down his spine; he swears he’s never heard anyone curse so beautifully.

Jungkook frees himself from his boxers, giving his cock a few slow strokes while watching your every reaction. His gaze flickers between your face and the way your body trembles under his hand. When he pushes your panties aside, he hesitates momentarily to open the condom.

“Tell me to stop,” he says suddenly, his voice wavering as he tries to cling to the last shred of his rationality.

“Don’t you dare,” you reply with a grin, tugging at his boxers to free him completely. He groans, any semblance of self-control slipping away as he feels your hand stroke him again, this time skin-on-skin.

The muffled music from the club outside only adds to the surrealness of the moment. Every so often, someone walks into the restroom, and Jungkook tenses, half-expecting a knock on the door. But the thrill of being caught only seems to heighten his excitement. When you grab his face to focus him on you, your lips brushing against his, he realizes he’s long past the point of no return.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he rolls the condom over his length. His other hand pushes his joggers just low enough to give him room to move. “Are you sure?” he asks one last time, his voice trembling with need.

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation, guiding him to your entrance. His fingers dig into your hips as he presses forward slowly, the stretch eliciting soft gasps from both of you. He stills for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he adjusts to the overwhelming sensation.

“God, you’re so tight,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.

“Please, move,” you urge him in a whine, your nails digging into his shoulders. He doesn’t need to be told twice. His hips pull back before snapping forward, setting a steady rhythm that has you biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

Jungkook’s movements grow more erratic as he loses himself in the sensation of you. The cramped space of the stall, the muffled music, and the ever-present risk of being caught only add to the intensity. His hands roam your body, gripping your thighs and waist as he thrusts into you with increasing urgency.

“You feel so good,” he groans, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“Faster,” you gasp, your hands sliding down to grab his ass and urge him deeper. He obliges, his pace quickening until the sound of your bodies colliding fills the small space. “Fuck –“

You bite down on his shoulder to muffle your moans, and he curses under his breath, the combination of your teeth and the tight grip of your walls pushing him closer to the edge.

“I’m close,” he whispers, his breath hot against your neck. His thrusts grow rougher, the door rattling slightly with each movement.

“Me too,” you manage to reply, your voice shaky as the tension in your body builds. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to send you spiraling over the edge. Your walls tighten around him as you climax, your muffled cries vibrating against his skin.

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his hips stuttering as he follows you, spilling into the condom with a final deep thrust. He collapses against you, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath. The countdown outside ends in cheers and shouts of celebration, but neither of you notices, still lost in the aftershocks of your high.

For a moment, the two of you stay like that, tangled together in the aftermath. Then Jungkook pulls back slightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. The sounds of celebration seep back in as you both begin to steady your breathing.

“That was…” he trails off, unable to find the right words. “Hot.”

You smirk, cupping his face to leave a lingering kiss on his swollen lips.

“Happy New Year,” you whisper, your voice soft but playful.

“Happy New Year,” he replies, his hand snaking behind your neck to pull you into another kiss, this one just as passionate as the last. Jungkook knows he has to go back to his friends soon.

“What’s your name again?” you laugh, your breath mingling with his as he chuckles.

“Jungkook. Yours?”

“Y/N.”

hiiii!! first of all, happy new year to you all. may 2025 be a better year for you. secondly, i know, I KNOW, i'm a little late with the one shot i promised, i'm sorry! i was too busy those last few days. to be honest, the one shot didn't result as i was hoping for. I had a few ideas about it and it doesn't look like... what i expected. but i promise you a jk one shot for the new year so here it is. i'll do better next time, i swear!! but i do hope that you enjoyed reading it <3 I'll see you around, and on that, i'm going back to write the DOU chapter 6 now that i have free time!! luv y’all — Riza

[idrellegames]

Hello all! 

It is the start of a new year and I’m excited to announce Wayfarer’s new development plan. Unlike previous years, I will be doing quarterly roadmaps so I can be more transparent about how things are going and make adjustments should I fall behind. 

The goal for Q1 (January to March) is to finish the Episode 3 finale. This finale is important—it is not just the end of an episode, but the end of Act 1 and represents a major story shift. Some things will come to a head, some things will be resolved, and you will be left with many, many more questions. The final includes two versions that are split between a story consequence from Episode 2—whether the Wayfarer remained hired by the Order of Lethalis or were fired from their mission. These two versions are then split in two branches, for a total of four branches that lead into 3 separate endings. 

The Episode 3 finale has been in development since last summer, and I am hoping to pick up the pace with it and get it out of the drafting stage in the coming months. Should drafting go well, I will be able to code the new material starting in March. It is undecided as of now as to whether it will be added to the alpha build immediately after coding or not. Right now I don’t want to release the finale until everyone can play it regardless of their route (right now there are incomplete starting routes—if you are not on an Aeran or Veyer route, then you will not be able to play Episode 3), but this may change. 

Wayfarer’s roadmap is an estimated timeline and is subject to change. 

The State of the Episode 3 Alpha

right click for higher resolution

This is an overview of where the Episode 3 alpha is currently sitting. There is a lot of playable material with multiple intersecting sections dependent on previous choices, faction approval, and character approval.

As of January 2025, the Episode 3 alpha contains approximately 483,800 words of total playable content (the average play session is much shorter than that). 

Other stats include (for Prologue to Episode 3):

Average Word Count Per Playthrough: 193,900 words (approximate)

Average Playtime: 11 hours

Total Cumulative Word Count: 1,414,800 words (approximate) 

The build was last updated in July 2024. It is playable on my Patreon.

FAQs

—When will Episode 3 be finished?

There is no release date! The goal is for this year.

—When is the next public build update?

TBD. Episode 3 will not be released publicly until the Episode 4 alpha is finished. As I am still working on Episode 3, it will be a long wait. I will be doing some maintenance patches on the public build this year, but they will not be content updates.  

—It’s been over 2 years since Episode 2, why is it taking so long?

I’m a solo developer, so when I get sick or need to take off due to personal reasons, that is development time lost. Unfortunately, 2023 and 2024 were both unexpectedly difficult years and despite my best attempts to stay on track, delays happened. Wayfarer’s scope is very ambitious and I know this; I am making cuts where I can, but there is a balance between scaling down and losing the vision entirely. Wayfarer is built on the idea that your choices matter, and to make those choices meaningful and impactful takes time.  

—Is every episode going to take this long?

Nope! Episode 3 is unique in how all its threads come together. I certainly do not intend to take this long with following episodes.

—When will we meet the other companions (the characters on the cover art)?

Alexia, Ren, and Calla will be introduced in Episode 4 and 5. Nelani is introduced in Episode 6 and Felix in Episode 7, which marks the end of Game 1.     

Thank you so much for your continued support! Let's get this done. ❤️

~ Anna  Idrelle Games

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (Matthew Sturniolo)

pt. 1

I slammed the door so hard I was sure the whole house shook. My heart was racing, and I could barely hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears. I turned to Charlie, who looked just as panicked as I felt.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” she muttered, pacing back and forth, her hands gripping her hair. “What the fuck just happened? Why are they here?”

“I don’t know!” I snapped, my voice shaky as I grabbed her arm. “I feel like I just saw a fucking ghost!”

Without waiting for her to respond, I bolted up the stairs, dragging Charlie with me. We didn’t stop until we were in my bedroom, and I slammed that door shut too, locking it like I was trying to keep monsters out.

“Are we hallucinating?” Charlie asked, flopping onto my bed and staring at the ceiling. “Like, maybe we’re overtired or jet-lagged or something?”

“Nope,” I said, sinking to the floor with my back pressed against the door. “That was real. Way too real.”

She sat up suddenly, her eyes wide. “This has to be a fucking joke right.”

“Yes!,” I interrupted quickly, shaking my head. “I don't know how, but i'm picking delusions over everything”

“What are the fucking odds?” Charlie asked, throwing her hands in the air.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, making us both jump.

“Don’t answer it,” Charlie said immediately.

“I wasn’t going to!” I snapped, crawling across the floor to grab it. I sighed as I saw my dads name on the screen.

“What do we do?” Charlie whispered.

“I don’t know!” I groaned, tossing the phone onto the bed. “I thought we left this behind us. Four years, Charlie. Four fucking years of silence, and now they're just at our door?”

Charlie flopped back onto the bed and covered her face with a pillow. “We came here to start over, I mean I knew there was a chance but come on we haven't even been here 24 hours. and LA is huge.”

She wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t supposed to include the ghosts of our past but we knew it was a possibility.

Another knock echoed through the house.

Charlie sat up, her eyes wide with panic. 

“It’s Matt.” Don't ask me how four years later I could still tell it was him just by the aggressive knocking.

We made our way down the stairs. I could feel the lump in my throat growing as I stared at the spot where I knew Matt was standing on the other side.

“I need to say something,” I said finally,

“Don’t do anything stupid,” Charlie warned, her voice muffled by the pillow she was clutching.

I grabbed the doorknob, my grip tightening as I took a deep breath. “No promises.”

I wasn’t ready for this—seeing them, hearing them, being around them again. But it didn’t look like the universe was giving me much of a choice.

I unlocked the door and swung it open, my heart pounding in my chest. All three of them were standing there—Matt, Nick, and Chris—and the sight of them hit me like a punch to the gut. I wanted to immediately throw up. They looked older, but the memories they brought back made me feel like I was eighteen all over again.

“I’m going to be straight up with you,” I said, crossing my arms and staring them down. My voice was steady, but it took every ounce of strength I had to keep it that way. “I want nothing to do with you guys still. Sure, we can do the friendly neighbor wave if we see each other outside, but please leave us alone. It took a long time to move on from you people, but we did it. So can you agree to that?”

For a moment, they all just stared at me, and the silence was suffocating.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and his expression darkened. He looked like he was about to explode. “That’s it?” he snapped. “You’re not even going to try to have a conversation? After everything—”

I cut him off before he could finish. “After everything is exactly why I don’t want to talk. I’m not doing this, Matt.”

Nick stepped forward, his hands raised like he was trying to keep the peace. “I get it,” he said quietly. His voice was soft, almost apologetic. “You don’t owe us anything. We won’t bother you.”

I nodded once, appreciating that he at least understood, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back.

Chris, though, was another story. He looked like he wanted to crumble right there on my porch. His eyes were glossy, and he was barely holding it together.

“Chris,” I said gently, but firmly. “Don’t.”

He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Instead, he just nodded, his head hanging low like he couldn’t even look at me anymore.

“Goodbye,” I said, stepping back and gripping the edge of the door.

Matt glared at me, his fists clenched at his sides, but he didn’t say another word. Nick gave me a small, sad smile, and Chris… Chris just looked broken.

I closed the door before I could second-guess myself, locking it again for good measure. When I turned around, Charlie was standing at the top of the stairs, her arms wrapped around herself like she was bracing for impact.

“Well?” she asked hesitantly.

“They agreed,” I said, leaning back against the door. “At least, I think they did.”

“Do you think they’ll actually leave us alone?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I hope so.”

I trudged upstairs, my legs feeling heavier with every step.

“Well, that was a disaster,” she muttered, throwing herself onto my bed.

I sighed and leaned against the door. “I don’t even want to think about it anymore. Let’s just call it a night.”

She nodded, sitting up to grab her phone. “Yeah, good call. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow anyway.”

I managed a small smile and headed to the bathroom to wash up. By the time I came back, Charlie had already changed into her pajamas and was scrolling mindlessly on her phone. I did the same, slipping into a T-shirt and underwear, and climbing into bed.

We didn’t talk much after that. The weight of the evening hung heavy between us, but eventually, we both drifted off, the stress of the day finally catching up to us.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of my alarm blaring from under my pillow. Groaning, I smacked the snooze button and sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Time to adult,” Charlie mumbled groggily from her makeshift bed on the floor.

“Yup,” I replied, stretching before sliding out of bed.

We both moved like zombies as we rummaged through our suitcases, pulling out shorts, tank tops, and sneakers. It felt surreal, living out of luggage in our new house, but today was the first step toward making it feel like home.

Once we were dressed, I threw my hair into a messy bun, and Charlie braided hers. After a quick debate over whether we needed coffee or breakfast first, we grabbed our bags and headed downstairs.

“Ready to spend way too much money on fucking furniture?” I joked, slinging my tote over my shoulder.

Charlie laughed. “Oh, absolutely. Let’s make bad financial decisions.”

With that, we headed out the door, determined to turn our empty house into a home.

Charlie and I spent the entire morning driving from one furniture store to another, armed with a notebook, our phones, and an ambitious list of everything we needed for the house. It was overwhelming, but in the best way.

First stop: beds. We wandered through aisles of mattresses, testing them out by flopping onto each one like children.

“This one’s too soft,” Charlie said, sinking into a plush mattress like quicksand.

I laughed, bouncing on the edge of a firmer one. “This one feels like sleeping on a rock.”

Eventually, we both settled on medium-firm queen mattresses, each picking out sleek platform bed frames to go with them. Delivery was arranged for later in the day, and we left the store feeling accomplished.

Next, we tackled the living room. Finding a couch was no easy task; we debated over colors, fabrics, and styles for nearly an hour.

“Gray is practical, but boring,” Charlie argued, running her hand over a plush sectional.

“Yeah, but white will be a nightmare to clean,” I countered, pointing at a gorgeous cream-colored sofa.

After much deliberation, we compromised on a deep navy-blue sectional with matching throw pillows. It was stylish but durable, and more importantly, it was in stock for delivery.

For the dining room, we agreed on a rustic wood table that could seat six, just in case we had company. We added sleek black chairs to modernize the look and splurged on a statement light fixture shaped like intertwined gold rings.

Decor shopping was the most fun. We wandered through aisles of wall art, throw blankets, lamps, and knick-knacks, tossing anything we loved into the cart. Charlie insisted on a funky cactus-shaped lamp for her room, while I fell in love with a vintage-style gold mirror for the entryway.

By the end of the day, we had a truckload of smaller items packed into the U-Haul we’d rented for the week. The larger pieces beds, couches, and the dining set were delivered earlier in the day. 

As I pulled into the driveway, Charlie let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t want to step foot in another furniture store for at least a month.”

“Same,” I agreed, climbing out of the truck. “But hey, at least we’re one step closer to having a real home.”

Unloading the truck was a workout, but by the time we were done, the house was starting to feel less like a shell and more like ours.

After hours of unpacking boxes and assembling furniture, the house was starting to come together. Charlie was in the living room, arranging throw pillows on the new navy-blue sectional, while I wrestled with the gold mirror I’d bought for the entryway.

As I stepped back to admire my handiwork, a thought struck me. “Wait,” I said, turning to Charlie. “We forgot TVs.”

Charlie froze, a pillow still in her hands. “Oh my god, you’re right. How did we miss that?”

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “We can’t live without TVs. What are we supposed to do, stare at the wall all night?”

Charlie laughed, tossing the pillow onto the couch. “Okay, let’s take a break. I’m starving anyway. Dinner first, then Best Buy?”

“Deal,” I said, already grabbing my purse.

We decided on a small Mexican place nearby, where we devoured tacos and chips with queso, brainstorming where to put the TVs in the house.

“We’ll need one in the living room, obviously,” Charlie said, wiping her hands on a napkin.

“And one for my room,” I added.

“Same,” Charlie agreed.

After dinner, we headed to Best Buy. The bright lights and endless rows of electronics made my tired brain feel even more overwhelmed, but we quickly found the TV section.

“This one’s huge,” Charlie said, pointing at an 85-inch screen.

“Absolutely not,” I laughed. “We’re not turning the living room into a movie theater.”

After some back and forth, we settled on a 75-inch TV for the living room and two 50-inch TVs for our bedrooms. As we were checking out, something else caught my eye—a sleek silver macbook pro that seemed perfect for editing videos.

“I’ve been needing a new laptop anyway, I've had the same one since senior year… of highschool” I said, holding it up for Charlie to see.

“Do it,” she encouraged.

With our cart loaded, we left Best Buy and made our way back to the house.

“This is starting to feel like a full-time job,” I joked as we unloaded the car.

Charlie laughed. “But it’ll be worth it when we’re sitting in our perfectly decorated house, watching our perfectly mounted TVs.”

“True,” I said, smiling. “Now let’s get to work.”

Charlie and I stood in the driveway, glaring at the enormous box containing the 75-inch TV. It was heavier than it looked, and we had already tried—and failed—to maneuver it into the house twice.

“This thing is impossible,” Charlie groaned, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand.

“I didn’t think we’d need a forklift just to get a TV inside,” I muttered, trying to catch my breath.

As we were about to attempt another lift, I heard a car door close. Looking up, I saw Nick stepping out of an Uber in front of the house next door. His gaze landed on us immediately, and I saw his eyebrows rise in amusement.

“Need some help?” he called, walking toward us with his hands shoved in his hoodie pockets.

Charlie and I froze.

“Pros and cons?” I whispered to her.

Charlie nodded, leaning closer. “Pro: We get the TV inside without breaking it or ourselves. Con: We owe him for helping, and this might be the start of the interactions we’re trying to avoid.”

“Another pro,” I added quietly, “it’s Nick. Not Matt or Chris.”

“True,” Charlie muttered, weighing it over in her head.

“Okay,” I said through clenched teeth, turning to Nick. “If you’re offering…”

Nick smirked, walking up to us. “I am. Don’t worry, I won’t charge you.”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Just get it over with.”

Nick crouched, lifting one end of the box with ease. “Wow, you two really thought you could handle this on your own?”

“Just shut up and lift,” I snapped, grabbing the other end.

With his help, we managed to get the TV inside in record time, placing it carefully in the living room. Nick dusted his hands off, grinning. “Anything else you need help with, or can I call this my good deed for the day?”

“Nope, we’re good,” Charlie said quickly, practically shoving him toward the door.

“Thanks,” I muttered reluctantly.

Nick smirked again but didn’t push it. “Anytime, neighbors.” With that, he walked out, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Charlie and I exchanged a look.

“Never again,” she said firmly.

“Agreed,” I replied. “But…at least the TV’s inside.”

I stood on my bed, carefully pinning string lights along the edges of the ceiling. The soft glow they cast was already making the room feel more like mine, even though there were still half-unpacked boxes scattered around. I stepped back, admiring my handiwork, when Charlie barged in without knocking, holding a bottle of water and looking exhausted.

“Okay, interior designer, I think it’s time to call it a night,” she said, plopping down onto my half-made bed.

I glanced at my phone. It was nearly midnight. “I just need to finish this corner,” I replied, pointing at the last stretch of wall.

“Y/N,” Charlie said with a laugh, “you’ve been at this all day. And we still need to go car shopping tomorrow.”

I sighed, sitting down on the bed next to her. “You’re right. But I want it to be perfect.”

“It will be. And besides,” she added with a smirk, “we’re vlogging the car shopping tomorrow. Can’t look sleep-deprived for our subscribers.”

I groaned, lying back on the bed. “Fine, fine. I’ll stop for tonight.”

Charlie stood up, stretching her arms. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep before we embarrass ourselves trying to pick out cars on four hours of rest.”

I laughed, following her to the door. “That’s probably smart. Night, Charlie.”

“Night, Y/N,” she said, heading to her room.

I turned back, taking one last look at the lights. They weren’t perfect yet, but they’d do for tonight.

Charlie and I stood outside a sleek, glassy dealership with the LA sun shining behind us. I held the camera, while Charlie grinned and waved dramatically.

“Good morning, everyone!” Charlie cheered. “Welcome back to our channel! Today’s a huge day because—drumroll, please—we’re car shopping!”

I spun the camera to face me. “We’ve been dreaming about this for so long, and honestly, we couldn’t do any of this without you guys. So seriously, thank you for supporting us and making this possible. We love you!”

Charlie leaned in, nodding with a big smile. “Now let’s go spend our life savings!”

The camera cut to us inside a brightly lit Jeep dealership. Charlie was practically bouncing on her feet as a salesman led us to a lineup of Jeeps.

“This is it,” Charlie said, her eyes locked on a bright yellow Jeep Wrangler. “This is the one. I can feel it in my soul.”

I laughed, “You’re not even going to look at the others?”

She shot me a look. “What others? Nothing can top this beauty.” She turned to the camera. “Everyone say hello to my future car!”

“This is amazing,” she said, giggling. We were flying down the Los Angeles highway test driving her jeep.

Back at the dealership, I filmed her signing the paperwork, flashing the camera a thumbs-up.

“This is insane,” Charlie said, “Thank you guys so much for making this possible. You’ve literally changed our lives!”

The next scene showed us at a luxury dealership, me sitting in a sleek SUV. “Okay, this one’s nice,” I said, panning the camera to show the interior. “But it just doesn’t feel… right.”

Charlie filmed me this time, catching my indecision as I walked between several cars. “Y/N’s being picky,” she whispered into the camera, smirking.

“I’m not being picky!” I protested, pointing at her. “I’m being thorough!”

Finally, we arrived at the Ford dealership. The camera panned to a line of Broncos, and my eyes immediately lit up.

“This one,” I said, walking toward a forest green Ford Bronco. “This is the one.”

Charlie zoomed in on me running my hands over the hood. “You’re in love.”

“Absolutely,” I said, laughing. “Do you see this color? It’s perfect.”

“This feels so good to drive,” I said, grinning at the camera. 

The camera showed me holding the keys, looking slightly overwhelmed but excited. “I can’t believe this is actually happening,” I said, looking into the lens. “Seriously, thank you all so much. None of this would be possible without you.”

Charlie popped into frame, throwing an arm around me. “Big day for the besties!”

We stood in the dealership parking lot.

“This has been such a crazy day,” I said. “But we are officially car owners!”

Charlie bounced around me. “We’re going to have so many adventures in these things, and we can’t wait to bring you all along with us.”

“Don’t forget to like, comment, and subscribe,” I added. “And tell us—what’s your dream car? Maybe we’ll manifest it for you.”

“Thanks for watching!” Charlie said, blowing a kiss to the camera.

Charlie and I were both drained from everything, but it felt so good to see the progress. For now, we were done moving furniture, and it felt like we were finally allowed to just relax for a bit.

We ended up in the living room, sitting on the couch in front of the TV. I had my laptop on my lap, working through some edits for the next vlog. Charlie was just chilling next to me, scrolling through her phone and half-watching a Brittany Broski podcast. We both needed a break.

“Hey, you think we should just call it a night after this?” Charlie asked, her voice a little quieter now that we were finally winding down. “We can actually sleep in tomorrow”

“Yeah, I agree,” I said, clicking through some of the footage I’d been editing. “We still have to go pick up the cars on Friday, too, so I guess we can finish everything tomorrow and take it easy tonight.”

Charlie nodded, letting out a tired sigh. “It feels so good to have everything coming together, though.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, the podcast playing in the background, and I kept editing. My mind was already thinking about what the next few days would bring. We’d pick up our new cars, drop off the last of the U-Haul stuff, and then we could officially call this place home.

After what felt like hours of scrolling and editing, I finally closed my laptop and leaned back into the couch, my body feeling heavy from exhaustion. “Okay, that’s enough work for today. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night.”

Charlie smiled and stretched, kicking her legs up on the coffee table. “Agreed. Let’s just enjoy some time to relax.”

We turned the volume up a bit, laughing at something Brittany said on the podcast.

As Charlie and I relaxed on the couch, the podcast still playing in the background, my mind couldn’t help but wander. Thoughts of Matt flooded my head. I hadn’t really let myself think about him much since seeing him a couple days ago, but now that we were finally settling into the house and things were calming down, he was creeping back into my mind.

I tried to focus on the podcast in front of me, but I couldn’t shake it. The memories of the way we used to be, how everything went down, the way things ended—it all kept replaying in my head.

Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and unlocked it, the screen lighting up in front of me. My thumb hovered over the TikTok app for a moment before I tapped it open. I knew I shouldn’t, but I found myself unblocking Matt’s profile.

I scrolled through his posts, my heart hammering in my chest with each video I saw. Then, I froze. There, on his arm, was a tattoo of a key—engraved with our old dorm number. The same one we had shared in those months of college. The same number that held so many memories, the room he left me in. My stomach turned. Seeing it now felt like a knife twisting in my gut.

I kept scrolling, trying to ignore the feeling creeping up my throat, but then something else caught my eye. His most recent TikTok. Posted one day ago, The sound playing  “I haven’t seen you in a while, you know I miss you, babe. When you hear this song, feel flattered it’s about your face and how I miss it.” The words hit me like a ton of bricks, and for a second, my heart dropped into my stomach. It was like he was singing directly to me. The weight of it was too much.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when my phone buzzed in my hand. I looked, and it was my boyfriend Leonard.

“Want to FaceTime?”

I stared at the message for a moment, trying to calm my racing thoughts. I couldn’t stay stuck on Matt. Not now, not when I had someone like Leo. I quickly typed back, a bit more quickly than I meant to.

“Yeah, sure. One sec.”

I took a deep breath and silenced my phone before looking over at Charlie. She was busy scrolling through her own feed, completely oblivious to the mess going on in my head.

I felt a twinge of guilt for letting Matt back in, even in my thoughts, but I couldn’t stop myself.

But for now, I pushed it aside, grabbed my phone, and clicked the FaceTime button for Leo.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88

[lacehartz]

happy new years!! i’m so sorry cause i saw your post about how many asks you have, but i have to— new years kiss with dad!rafe?🙌

don’t you even worry nonnie i have 63 on my main 😭 hope u had a lovely new years !!! cw in tags.

whilst all your friends were out at the biggest party of the year, drinking ‘n having fun, you were stuck at home with rafe. you’d begged and pleaded with him to let you go, there was nothing wrong with wanting to let a little loose. but rafe wasn’t having it — not with how he knew how those parties got out of hand, and especially not with the kind of guys that’d be there. you’d been lucky to even convince him to let you stay up for the countdown.

“you really think ‘m stupid enough to let you out of my sight tonight?” he’d snapped earlier, forehead vein bulging and tone sharp enough to have you tearing up. you’d sulked off, sending off a message to the group chat about how you wouldn’t be able to make it after all.

hours later you’re in the living room, curled up in the corner of the couch, vaguely listening to the tv. you’re miserable. your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing with notifications from all your friends posting. you’d scroll through the stories and pictures, but the idea of that just makes your chest tighten with jealousy. instead, you toss the phone with a huff and burry your face in your knees.

rafe, who’s been sitting across from you, nursing a beer in his hands (because of course he wasn’t letting you drink either), notices and sighs. “still sulking?”you don’t answer, wrapping your arms around yourself as you sniffle. “what’d i say about that attitude, huh? already told you that y’don’t gotta go to any parties to have fun,” he places his beer on the coffee table, spreading his legs to get comfortable.

you frown and peek at him through your wet lashes. “doesn’t feel like fun,” you mumble. rafe rolls his eyes and pokes his cheek with his tongue. “up, c’mon. c’mere,” he replies gruffly, gesturing to his lap.

you hesitate, fiddling with your fingers. “i— i don’t know, dad..” rafe’s brows furrow as he takes you in, squinting at your disobedience. “that wasn’t a suggestion, baby. don’t make me get up.”

the warning in his tone sends shivers down your spine, and you slowly uncurl, glancing at him nervously. you don’t want him to yell at you again — not like he did earlier — so you slowly peel yourself off the couch and reluctantly shuffle over to him. “there’s m’girl,” he says smugly, tugging you down into his lap before you can protest again.

his arms loop around your waist, locking you in place as he adjusts you to straddle him, your knees sinking into the cushions either side his thighs. “did it t’protect you, sweetheart, ‘kay? i know you don’t like to think but dad does. and dad knows, uh, what happens to drunk little girls out in the middle of the night. what if someone had tried to take you, huh? tried t’take advantage of you. ‘m jus’ keepin’ you safe.”

you swallow hard when rafe squeezes your hips. he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his darkened eyes. you hear the countdown begin over the tv as you wipe your cheeks, the sound echoing, “ten .. nine .. eight ..”

“gotta start the new year off right, yeah? gonna show you how t’really have fun,” he whispers, hands soft against your face. you squirm when his fingers brush your mouth.

“four .. three .. two .. one ...”

and right as the fireworks explode across the sky, rafe’s surging forward, meeting your lips with his in a bruising, aching kiss. it’s rough and possessive and wet, his tongue forcing its way past the seam of your lips in a way that has you whimpering. he tastes like alcohol and something earthy, completely and utterly overwhelming. rafe’s hands tighten on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest until there’s not a single inch left between your bodies.

this kiss is messy, desperate, his teeth nipping your flesh and clashing with your own. your head spins as he devours you, making you so dizzy that you forget what you were so upset about in the first place. when he finally detaches from your puffy, tingly lips, strings of saliva still connecting you, you can barely breath, panting and gasping as you twitch in his lap.

“happy new year, baby,” rafe smirks huskily, giving you exactly two seconds before he’s capturing your lips again. maybe he was right after all; you didn’t need any parties, you just needed your dad.

[laurentspup]

PLEASE

A ficlet order if you still accept: laurent works in an office🥺

That's it, my request is just this one, the rest you can do as you wish

I just work in an office and I need a fanfic like this

If it's cute I'll just die of happiness🥺❤️

my dearest anon,

i know i am four years late but i want you to know that i have NEVER forgotten this fic. you are in my mind, you are in every other fic i ever wrote. i wanted to finish this fic so bad for you. i wanted to write this fic so bad. it just took me four years, but i NEVER abandoned the fic. it was always in my mind.

i hope you're still here. i hope you get to read this fic. i hope it makes you happy.

happy new year.

It's Never Just Coffee

“I will never date a coworker, Ancel. Never.” Laurent turns on the coffee machine. Ancel snickers in his cup. “Never?” “Ever.” Laurent is adamant. “But that man is the most gorgeous person I have ever seen.”

It started out as just coffee. But when you see the most gorgeous man ever, it's never just coffee, isn't it?

Lil snippet

At 7:50 am, Laurent arrives at the office. There is a man occupying the cubicle next to him that has been empty for two weeks now. He didn’t think the company was hiring another person. He’s enjoying finally feeling like getting an office to himself. But alas, here is a man, his back to Laurent, curls on his head, a button down that looks too tight on a body that seems too big for his swivel chair. May his ego not be bigger than.

Laurent sits at his desk nonchalantly. In his periphery, he sees the man turn to him, take a pause, which could only mean one thing , and then tap his shoulder.

Laurent puts his resting bitch face on. He isn’t at work for chit-chat. He is… just not for newbies. But he stops briefly when he sees this man’s face, this hunk, this beautiful man with big brown eyes and kissable lips and…

“Hi,” He presents his hand. Laurent doesn’t look at it nor raise his own. “I’m Damianos. I’m new. Call me Damen, your cubicle buddy.”

Shit. 

Laurent composes himself slower than he usually does, trying his hardest not to give Damianos—Damen, a once over from head to… toe. Instead, he nods and shakes the man’s hand. “Laurent.” He faces his computer. He checks his emails and doesn’t look at Damen again.

At 8:10, he gets up to make his second cup of coffee in the breakroom. Ancel is already there by the machine, sipping his coffee and wiggling his eyebrows.

“I will never date a coworker, Ancel. Never.” Laurent turns on the coffee machine. 

Ancel snickers in his cup. “Never?”

“Ever.” Laurent is adamant. “But that man is the most gorgeous person I have ever seen.” 

“You’re fucked.”

“The. Most. Gorgeous.” Laurent opens three packets of creamer. “So I will never talk to him unless necessary.”

“Yeah, you’re so fucked.” Ancel nudges his head to the door. 

[rvlse]

Greetings and happy new year! 🎉

Could I request an one-shot with TFOne Sentinel Prime, please? Write any scenario you want. I'm so thirsty to read about him 🥲

(It's okay if you don't want to take this request)

HII! Happy new year, I'd be more than happy to take this request <3 I hope you enjoy it!

Tbh I hope nobody already did this yet lol I've had this idea in my head for a few weeks..

ALSO for everyone who sent me asks, I'm working on them all!

(SENTINEL TFO X GN! READER)

WARNINGS: not too bad, does get a little suggestive tho 😉

Oh, you were going to kill Orion. What had he been thinking? Joining the Iacon 5000? What was wrong with him?

You, Orion, and D-16 had absolutely embarrassed yourselves out in the race. There was a reason miners weren’t allowed to participate, and of course Orion needed to find out why. 

“I just wanna know what your thought process was. I mean, seriously?” You scolded the red and blue bot, who was finding the floor extremely interesting. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, Dee, but I just wanted to-” 

“You always want to do everything! You can’t ever just stay in your place!” You interrupted him. You were absolutely fuming. Shocker that no one could see the smoke coming out of your audials right now.

Orion didn’t reply, so you just crossed your arms and looked the other way. Dee hadn’t said anything, either.

Just as you were about to open your intake to spit a bunch of curses at Pax (again), four thin black cybertronian legs appeared in the doorway of the medbay, followed by heavy footsteps.

It was pretty obvious who was about to appear. Arachnid, the four legged cybertronian bodyguard, was the only hint you needed. Sentinel Prime. Wonderful. You could only hope he wouldn’t demote you for the stunt the three of you- Orion had pulled… or worse.

Arachnid’s many optics deep scanned you and your friends��� frames, giving all three of you a suspicious glare up and down.

“All clear,” she finally spoke, backing up as the one and only Sentinel Prime stomped into the room to take her place. You wouldn’t lie, he was quite the sight. Blue and gold was a gorgeous color combination, and he wore it perfectly. But… he was pissed. 

His optic ridges were furrowed together, his lips pulled taught, and the glare he held in his optics would offline bots if it could.

“D-16, Orion Pax,” he started, bringing his servos to his shiny hips as he gave your friends a firm once over.

“Y/N…” his dominating gaze narrowed on you. You suddenly felt a bit tense, straightening your backstrut and holding your helm up a bit more. 

Sentinel’s curious optics scanned your frame from your helm to your pedes, and then slowly… too slowly, back up to your optics. Your digits fidgeted with themselves as you tried to make sense of the situation. 

“What you three did today was one of the craziest things I’ve ever seen,” he started off, servos still on his hips.

Orion Pax got up off the medical berth and opened his intake, “sir, this was all my idea and we’re so sorry-” 

“I loved it!” Sentinel interrupted, his servos going up into the air. The three of you gave him a blank, confused stare. 

“You did?” Orion questioned, not believing the Prime’s words.

“How could anyone not love it? You gave my best racers a real run for their money,” Sentinel continued, getting down on one knee to be optic level with the three of you. 

You weren’t too certain of the mech in front of you. He seemed… too animated. Too excited. Too friendly. 

“So… we’re not getting demoted?” Dee spoke up, his voice soft and hopeful.

“Demoted?” the Prime repeated, shocked at his suggestion. Then, Sentinel let out a thick, hearty laugh, the type of laugh that just screamed arrogance.

Uncomfortably, Dee and Orion tried to laugh along, unsure of what the joke was. You just sat there on the medical berth with your arms crossed. You weren’t buying whatever show Sentinel was putting on.

After another few awkward moments of chatter, Arachnid finally let the Prime know his time was up and that he had places to be.

“I’m sorry, my friends, we’re preparing our next trip to the surface,” Sentinel told the three of you, his apologizing gaze travelling over your frames. But then, for the second time today, the Prime’s optics fell on you, his optics half lidded and dark.

“But in the meantime, I’ve got a treat for you,” he continued, letting his vision trail across your body.

“Arachnid, have someone escort these heroes-” he turned to his assistant and gestured to your friends, Orion and Dee, “-to my personal service facilities. The best care in Iacon,” the Prime congratulated the two mechs.

And then he turned his helm to you, and raised his servo. Confused, you opened your intake to ask questions, but Sentinel’s digits touched the bottom of your jaw, and closed your intake for you.

“As for them,” the blue mech addressed you, moving his thumb up so it was just barely grazing your lips, pushing your helm up as if he was inspecting you.

“Take them to my quarters. I want a word with them,” he finished, letting go of your face and standing up to his full height. It was worth mentioning that he absolutely towered over all three of you.

Arachnid didn’t ask questions, just nodded and called someone up on her comm link as Sentinel Prime gave you one last look before he turned and left the medbay. 

What the frag just happened? 

Your helm turned, bewildered, to your friends.

“What was that? Why was he so touchy-feely? Why am I going somewhere else?” you panicked, your servos in the air as you interrogated the two miner bots, faceplates burning hot.

Dee raised his own servos to try and calm you down. 

“Woah, woah, I’m sure it’s fine! He’s a Prime, he wouldn’t hurt anybody. You’re fine,” Dee tried to comfort you, smiling. Orion nodded enthusiastically behind him.

“Yeah, Y/N, you’ll be okay. I’m sure whatever he has planned, it’s go-” Pax tried to say.

“URGH… MINERS!” Darkwing bellowed from the hallway, clearly infuriated. 

“Well. That’s unfortunate,” you stated upon seeing him, raising an optic ridge. 

And just like that, Orion and D-16 were taken away, and you didn’t think they were getting the ‘best care in Iacon’ anymore.

Another pair of footsteps sounded in the hallway, this time lighter and more friendly seeming. Prepared for whatever it was that was about to appear, you sat stoically on the med berth.

Closer, and closer… 

“Hi!” the mystery figure spoke, popping out from behind the wall. 

“I was instructed to bring you to Sentinel’s quarters… so c’mon!” the pink and white bot exclaimed, grabbing your arm and dragging you off the berth. 

“Uhm.. okay,” you complied, not wanting to get in any more trouble than you might already be in. 

About five minutes later, you stood outside of two humongous gold doors. The cheery bot that had brought you here knocked three times on them, and then retreated behind you, putting their servos on your shoulders. 

You swallowed nervously when you heard the same heavy footsteps as you did earlier, and after another second, those golden gates flung open, revealing Sentinel’s daunting frame. 

The pink and white bot shoved you rather harshly forward, gave you a pat on your back, and then turned and left. Great. So it was just you and the Prime. 

“Please, come in…” Sentinel started, a cunning, attractive smile on his features. You gave him an untrusting glare, and hesitantly, warily, stepped inside his abode. 

“What do you want?” you questioned him the second you entered his quarters, turning around to face him. Bad idea, that height difference really was extreme. 

“Oho, straight to the point, are you?” he chuckled, putting his servos behind his back as he took a couple steps closer to you. His optics were doing that stupid attractive stare again. Frag. It would be bad if you were actually getting horny right now. Which you were. Frag again. 

You didn’t answer him, just clenched your servos into fists and glared defiantly up at him. 

“Okay, then. I can play that way, too…” he murmured.

“I saw you out there. In the race. You’re… frag, you’re gorgeous,” he scoffed, laughed, as if it were obvious why he had called you here.

Your optics narrowed, your glare only getting harsher. 

“So, I decided I just had to have you, princess,” he confessed, bending his upper half down so that he could see you optic to optic. Which, his were still half lidded and his gaze was extremely intense. 

At his pet name, you reeled back, the density of your situation finally weighing on you. Ohhh slag. The Sentinel Prime wanted you. YOU. 

You swallowed again, your optics going wide. 

“Pshh- you’re kidding, right?” you fake laughed, heat rising to your face.

The Prime’s cursingly hot smile only widened, and that only made you hornier.

His torturously tall frame took one, two, three steps closer to you, close enough so that his face was inches from yours. 

“Of course not. Why would I go through the trouble of calling you up here?” he chuckled again, closing his optics for a second.

“Listen… I’m giving you two options,” Sentinel’s smile suddenly fell, and his optics narrowed to glare down at you.

“Since you like it straight forward, I’ll keep it short,” his tone was low. Honestly, it scared you. Whatever he was about to say, it wasn’t about to be good.

“Either I get to bend you over that desk right there-” he gestured to what you could only assume was his work desk, as papers and data pads were strewn everywhere on its surface, “-and frag you until you start to see stars…” he spoke carefully, tentatively, as if he was spelling something out for you.

“Or, you become my sparkmate, and I get to screw you anyway,” he finished sourly, searching your expression.

Well, wasn’t this a turn of events. Clearly, he wasn’t giving you much of a choice right now. No matter what you did, he would get what he wanted. You couldn’t run, there were way too many guards who would offline you without a second thought. And you didn’t even want to think about fighting. 

Now, if you really thought about it, he wasn’t giving you bad options. You thought about the first one. You wouldn’t mind getting fragged senseless by him, in all truths. The question, though, was what he would do with you after he was finished with you. 

You didn’t want to know.

Being his sparkmate would be quite the honor. For slag’s sake, he was a Prime, and you just a miner bot. He must really like you… 

“I’ll be your sparkmate,” you told him slowly, carefully, your tone low, matching his. 

Sentinel’s lips curled up into another one of his cunning, unnecessarily attractive smiles. 

“Good girl.”

SOOOOO... I realized this was getting a little long for a one shot.

Anybody up for a part two where they get freaky?

Have an amazing day/night!

[jackactuallywrites]

All Seeing, All Knowing, All Loving: Part 6

Rating: Not safe for work in the way that Simon is literally not safe in the workplace.

Warnings: War, artillery

Summary: Who could possibly be calling you after months of silence? HMMM

Notes: It’s small because I’m still digesting Christmas dinner x

Word Count: 755

ao3 link

Who the fuck was calling you at such an ungodly hour?

You were still recovering from the deathly hangover you’d incurred from New Year’s Eve, as well as the truly horrifying amount of cheese, chocolate, and meats you’d ingested over the holiday period, having taken to bed at tea time, when you were woken by the buzzing of your phone, and that god awful ring tone one of your colleagues had snuck onto your phone. You really needed to turn it off; a meowed classic Nokia ringtone was funny for all of five seconds, but now it was nails on chalkboard.

It would go to voicemail if it was important, and nobody in your family was dying or pregnant, so you decided you could ignore it, clicking the lock button to reject it.

You should have known it wouldn’t have worked.

As soon as you’d rejected the call, it started up again, buzzing relentlessly under your pillow. Clearly, whoever was on the other end wasn’t deterred by the idea of waking you from peaceful slumber. Prick.

Resigned to your fate, you grabbed your phone from under your pillow, squinting at the number suspiciously. You didn’t recognise it. If it was spam, you might have to go on a murder mission.

“Hello?”

“Evenin’”

“Evening?” You looked at your phone,

“It’s four in the bloody morning!”

“I do apologise. Didn’t have a chance to ring you earlier.

Hm. That voice was increasingly familiar. That Mancunian accent, the gruff, blunt tone.

“Cunt.”

“Aye.”

Yeah, it was him. You hadn’t thought about him in a while. Well, that was a lie. You thought about him every time you opened your wallet and saw his ID card next to your bank cards. He just wasn’t as present, was no longer the monster hiding in your cupboards or under your bed. You didn’t look over your shoulder for his bulky figure or try to spot his car on the street. It had been a good month or two of peace, until now.

“Still alive then?”

“So far.”

You wondered where in the world he was. British military did seem to find themselves sticking their noses into a lot of things that weren’t at all their business. You knew he wouldn’t tell you where he was, he couldn’t.

“Where are you?”

He just sighed on the other end of the line. That was followed by a loud boom, powerful enough that it made the audio coming from your phone go tinny and weird, and then, a loud metal clunk.

“The fuck are you doing?”

“What does it sound like?”

“Fucking scary is what it sounds like! Why are you calling me in the middle of a damn battlefield? Shouldn’t you be in a fucking bunker or something where there’s a) no signal, and b) actual safety?”

“Wouldn’t be much of a blade if I cowered in a bunker would I?”

Typical.

“My God, why, why are you calling me?”

“Just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year.”

The man was fucking insane.

“Right. Sure. Thank you. And merry Christmas and happy new year to you as well. Now will you focus on the not dying please?”

“Sentimental?”

“Fuck off.”

“Aye, figured you were. I’ll be back in one piece.”

“Joy.”

“Aye, miss you too.”

The man missed you? Were you dreaming? You sat up in bed, staring at your phone, bewildered. There was only one possible answer.

“Are you drunk ?”

“Mm. Little.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“They do good beer here. S’nice.”

“Simon, don’t-“ there were too many things that you didn’t want him to do. “Just, don’t be a dick, alright?”

“Tall order. I’ll do my best.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, flopping back on your pillows.

“I’m going back to sleep. Don’t die.”

“Aye ma’am.”

The call beeped, ending what had been perhaps the strangest conversation of your life. Ghost really knew how to make an entrance back into your head. Already, you were obsessing. Where was he? Was he safe? Well, you already knew he wasn’t. But how unsafe was it? What were the statistics, the deaths? It bothered you that you couldn’t find out. At least there was one thing you could google.

It took some time for your search engine to realise that you didn’t want information on knife blades, the blades from the elder scrolls, or various football teams, with you having to specify ‘who are the blades army uk’ before you finally got your answer.

The SAS.

Good fucking God .

[welcome-to-green-hills]

What exactly is the timeline for these films? The movie says that Sonic has been to earth for little over a year and the third book says that stone and Eggman were in the crab for four years or at least that’s what I saw online

Hi Hon!❤️✨

It’s perfectly okay, I think that we’re all going a bit crazy trying to figure out the time frame of these movies. I’m still trying to find a physical copy of the book (I refuse to buy a digital one, I like to write notes in my books), so I can’t necessarily answer this question with confidence. This is the first time that I’ve heard of Robotnik and Stone traveling around the world for four years.

Hmm… this is a little bit funky. I still think that we’re looking at a 2yr window for these Fluffer Puppers. The third movie seems to imply that it might be a little over a year or two.

If anyone knows something about the novel, please share!🥺😭🙏

[theother456-stories]

The drive to Carter’s house had been eerily quiet. You and Daniel, your partner of four years, exchanged only occasional glances, the air in the car thick with anticipation. Months of searching, hours of late-night discussions, and countless online conversations had brought you here, to a quiet suburban street, to meet the man who could fulfill your shared dream.

Carter greeted you at the door with a wide grin, his presence immediately commanding. He was taller and larger than you had expected, his frame broad and powerful. His warm demeanor, however, put you at ease. “Welcome! I’m so glad you two made it. You must be exhausted from the trip,” he said, ushering you inside his home.

The house was cozy, with soft lighting and a faint smell of spices lingering in the air. Carter led you to the living room, where you all sat down to chat. His deep voice carried easily over the hum of conversation as the three of you shared stories, laughter, and the nervous energy of what was come

Carter smiled, his expression warm and reassuring. “Let’s head upstairs, then.” He gestured for Daniel And you to follow him, you lingered behind for a moment to collect your thoughts.

When you finally worked up the courage to join them in the bedroom, the sight that greeted you made you stop in your tracks. Carter was sprawled across the bed, his stomach swollen to an almost unbelievable size. The massive dome stretched his skin taut, pale and smooth, with faint red lines marking where it had expanded. It rose and fell slightly with his breath, wobbling with every small movement he made.

“Hey,” Carter greeted you casually, resting a hand on his enormous belly. “Sorry about this—Daniel couldn’t wait to get inside.” He chuckled, giving the massive gut a light pat. The motion sent ripples across its surface, and you swore you could hear muffled sounds coming from within.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away. His stomach was immense, almost cartoonishly round, pushing his shirt up to his chest. The waistband of his pants was undone, unable to contain the sheer size of him. It dominated the room, filling your vision and leaving you in awe.

“He’s doing great,” Carter said, as if reading your mind. His voice was calm, almost soothing. “He’s comfortable, and he’s already settled in. You can feel him if you want.”

You took a hesitant step forward, your hand trembling as you reached out to touch the massive sphere. The skin was warm and firm, with just enough give to feel Daniel’s presence beneath. Carter shifted slightly, the movement causing his belly to wobble again, and you felt a faint vibration under your palm as Daniel made a muffled sound from inside.

Carter grinned, leaning back against the pillows with an almost smug satisfaction. “It’s something, isn’t it?” he said, rubbing slow circles over his gut. “I wasn’t sure I’d fit him all in, but he just slid right down. I think he’s even enjoying himself in there.”

You couldn’t help but stare, marveling at the sheer size of him. His belly was enormous, towering over the rest of his body like a giant, living monument. The weight of it pressed into the mattress, and you could see the faintest hint of motion beneath the surface as Daniel shifted slightly inside.

Carter’s eyes met yours, his expression warm and inviting. “Whenever you’re ready,” he said softly, patting his belly again. “There’s plenty of room for you too.”

Your heart raced as you processed the moment. This was what you and Daniel had dreamed of, what you’d planned for months. The sheer absurdity of the situation couldn’t dampen the strange, surreal excitement that coursed through you.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your hand still resting on the immense, wobbling dome of Carter’s gut. You felt a wave of calm wash over you as you nodded. “I’m ready.”

Carter smiled, his grin widening as he adjusted himself, preparing to welcome you as well. The journey had been long, but you knew, without a doubt, that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 26. Stepping Up

Summary: The final part of Squad Battles is here, but an obstacle has been thrown their way. Can Third Squad step up and deliver the win they need?

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

The calm before the storm. Within the hour, this place would descend into chaos as we prepared to defend this temporary outpost from Garrick and his squad. I had no doubt they’d throw everything they had at us. And I wanted them to, because we were ready to do the same.

The calm doesn’t last, Bodhi bursting out of the tent he’s sharing with Xaden, a piece of parchment clutched tightly in his hand. He starts towards the tent I’m allocated to, but he stops as his head pivots to the side he see’s me perched on the barrel I’d climbed onto. He rushes over to me, holding out the parchment to me.

”We’re alone.” He tells me as he rushes over.

”What do you mean alone?” I ask, taking the parchment he holds out to me.

*A change of plans.

Your leadership are gone, and so are your dragons.

Have fun.*

Of course they would throw us a curveball last minute. No leadership and no dragons meant we all had to rely on working together, using our strengths to our advantage. They probably want us to scramble and panic, see which squads fall apart without their leadership. I’m relieved when I reach out, still feeling the pull of power from Proth. But there’s a very solid shield I am unable to break through and communicate to him through. Seems he was fully on board with taking part in the Squad Battle.

”Go get everyone up.” I tell Bodhi, folding up the parchment as I hand it back to him.

He doesn’t even blink an eye as he pockets the parchment, nodding before running off to get everyone up. I turn back and scan the forest and horizon, unable to see anyone on foot or a dragon in the sky. Hopefully the attacking squads were also suffering the same disadvantage as us. And with no dragons on the horizon and probably less than an hour till they were on us, I felt confident we would all be on level ground.

Within minutes everyone is awake and standing in the centre of the outpost, everyone geared up and ready to go.

”So what’s the plan Dahlia?” Bodhi asks, smiling at me with a cheeky grin.

”Me? We have plenty of third years.” I say as I gesture to the third year standing across from me, all of which smirk and shake their heads at me.

”You’re an Aetos.” A third year called Han says as he steps forward.

”That doesn’t mean anything.” I tell him sternly with a pointed gaze.

He shrugs. “You might think it doesn’t but we’ve all seen you fight and fly, and you always know the right questions and things to say in Battle Brief. Hell you school half us third years in that class.”

”He’s right.” Liz says, smiling up at me. “You were made for this. You’ve been trained for this your whole life.”

If only they knew. I only got half the training that Dain did. Yes I still had teaching and training my father provided, but I know Dain got a great deal more than me. The rest I taught myself.

”So what’s the plan?” Austin says with a smirk, ganging up on me with the others who all nod their head in agreement.

”We stick to the plan we made last night. It’s good and solid if we all work together. We might have lost our dragons but we can still get some height advantage to see when they’re coming. One of you on each corner in a tree should do the job.” I tell them, gesturing to the four corners of the outpost. It wasn’t very big, so we should be able to see where they were coming from. My best guess would be the direction Basgiath was in.

”What about the flag?” Bodhi asks, nodding to the flag that was mounted in the middle of the clearing we were in.

On top of defending the outpost, once a horn was heard we had to take the flag to our designated spot to call for aid. Our outpost without a dragon was a good half hour run from here. I knew it had seemed too close yesterday when we had scouted the area. Should have been my first clue that they were going to spring something on us. I scan the group, trying to remember all our signets. There was a few I wasn’t sure on, but as my eyes land on Han, a third year in our squad, and I know exactly what we need to do.

”When the time comes, I need you to meet me at the flag.” I say pointing to Han who nods back at me. “For now go get something to eat and take your spots. We won’t have long.”

Everyone nods before rushing to grab something to eat and prepare for the fight ahead. If Second Squad had Garrick we would be at a disadvantage. We’d only just gotten on better terms, but it was clear he was skilled when it came to warfare. And if Xaden was anything to go off last night, we were going to have our work cut out for us.

”We’ve got this, right?” Bodhi asks as he scans the horizon I’d been watching earlier.

I nod. “If we stay calm, stick to the plan, we can do this.”

”And what if they have dragons and leadership?” He questions, knowing as well as I that if they do we have no chance.

”They won’t have dragons. Too much of an advantage and too much risk of death. They’d wipe out half the Quadrant in a matter of hours.” Which he seems to agree with as he nods again.

”That doesn’t rule out leadership though. You’re good, but Garrick is another level. If he’s here and he knows we don’t have Xaden-”

”Then we don’t let him know. We act as if he is here.” I tell him, cutting him off.

Bodhi looks at me like he’s not convinced, but it’s the only plan we’ve got. And I would do anything to make sure we get that win.

Around me grunts and cries carry around the outpost. So far we’d defended our outpost perfectly. Luckily we had the foresight last night to lay a few traps and obstacles on the ground around the outpost. Either Xaden already knew what was happening, or he just prepared for everything. Either way we were thankful for the idea. It had done wonders at keeping them away. Because just like us they didn’t have their dragons, and there was no sign of any leadership for their Squad. But that didn’t mean they weren’t here, watching and waiting.

But I knew Garrick, if he was here he would be in the thick of it. He’d be down there in the middle of the fight that was taking place between the majority of our squads. In the distance the horn sounds, meaning we now needed to move our flag. I launch my last arrow, knocking someone in the shoulder, sending them stumbling back.

“Go, I’ve got this.” Bodhi calls out as he rushes over to me spot.

I nod before turning and rushing over to the flag, Han rushing over to the point with another third year I think is called Lee. I rarely saw one without the other.

”So what’s the plan?” Han asks excitedly.

”You can turn invisible right?” I ask him, Han nodding in response as he furrows his brow.

I reach up, taking down the flag and passing it to him. ”Ok, now I have no idea what you’re planning.” Han says, looking at me like I’ve gone crazy.

”You are going to use your signet to turn invisible while you follow me up to the tower.” I tell him as I pull out a piece of a tent I’d cut out while everyone was preparing earlier. It was a slightly different white to the flag Han was holding, but from a distance I was sure no one would question it.

”You’re going to be the decoy.” Lee says with a knowing smirk, slowly nodding in approval.

”Exactly. We have no confirmation they are without leadership right now. They could be playing into the fact they know we don’t and are using it to mess with us. For all we know they’re waiting just outside the perimeter to surprise us.”

”Great plan, but the entire forest is covered in leaves and debris. They’re bound to hear me once they catch you.” Han states, gesturing to the leaf ridden ground.

”That’s where Kai comes in.” I say, looking over my shoulder as Kai runs over.

”Ready Dahlia?” He asks, holding out his hand to me.

Lee and Han look at me confused as I take his hand in mine, feeling my signet take his in. My signet was classified, but Kai had been smart enough to figure it out. Kai had a sound signet. To most, it wouldn’t seem incredibly useful. But for situations like this it was perfect. Not only could he make you hear things that weren’t there, but he could also muffle or disguise sounds.

Han shakes his head and laughs, the pieces clicking together in his head. “And you didn’t think you were ready for this.”

”Believing in myself doesn’t come easily. Now lets go, we have a Squad Battle to win."

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal @stupid-and-contagious01

[tgmsunmontue]

To wake, perchance to dream 6/6

Hangster - Jake wakes up ~13 years in the future and thinks he has amnesia. Instead it's a glimpse of what his life could be. When he wakes up right before being called back to Top Gun for the special detachment he's going to try his damndest to make that future come true...

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

                “Why do you put up with me?”

                “Well that’s a stupid question.”

                “Jake. I’m serious.”

                “So am I. Why do you put up with me? When I’m angry and I say hurtful things or piss you off… Why do you put up with me?”

                “Because I love you.”

                Jake looks at him and tries to convey just how much of an idiot he thinks Bradley is being. He remembers future Bradley, how alarmed he’d been at Jake having to deal with all his shit. He wonders if getting those two days of his future were offered as an incentive to not give up. Wonders what he did to deserve it. Or whether it’s somehow Bradley that deserves him.

                “Do you think I love you any less than you love me?”

                “It’s not a competition.”

                “Good thing, because if it was I’d win. I put up with you because I love you. All of you,” Jake says, flicking him on the forehead to drive his point home, and it makes him feel more settled as well when Bradley startles at the sharp pain but then laughs, captures his hand and kisses over the knuckles.

                “Oh.”

                “Oh he says. Oh. Did you think I was lying all those times I said it?”

                “No. No. I just…”

                “You thought I only loved certain parts of you?”

                Bradley shrugs, unable to meet his eyes and Jake shakes his head. They’ve come a fucking long way in sixteen months however he expects they’ve still got a chunk of work ahead of them. However Bradley is working with him now, rather than against him or trying to break up, so it’s so much better. It helps that Bradley is back in the air, flying again and while Jake is proud of him he’s also waiting for the day when Bradley decides he’s had enough. Knows it has to be soon if the rough timeline he sketched out is accurate.

                “I’m… I’m going to make myself some tea. You want any?”

                “Of course…”

                Tea making is almost a ritual now between them, and he’s always dropped everything when Bradley has said he’s making tea. It’s for moments of quiet, but also deep conversation, reassurance and also the simple act of making it now grounds Jake in a way nothing else does. He knows it’s similar for Bradley, that if he wants to talk something out, he’ll make an entire pot of tea. Jake watches as he reaches for the stupid pot that is painted like a rooster and wonders if this is the moment. Watches Bradley turn over the little three-minute timer he’d bought and watches him watch the sand fall through the hourglass silently. He knows from experience to not interrupt the silence now. Bradley is gathering and organizing his thoughts.

                “I… I think I’m going to retire.”

                And there it is. All of the sand hasn’t even fallen through.

                Another piece falling into place.

                “Okay.”

                “Okay? Just okay?”

                “You want me to talk you out of it?”

                “I… no? I… fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know. What am I going to do if I’m not flying planes anymore?”

                Jake knows exactly what he’s going to do, but he can’t, won’t, just blurt it out. He wants Bradley to figure it out for himself. Reaches a hand across the counter and wiggles his fingers and waits impatiently for Bradley to hold his hand. Grips it tight and jiggles it to give his next words more weight.

                “How about, how about you find a dream you actually want huh, rather than chasing what you think someone else would want for you? You have time…”

                “Yeah. I guess.” Jake hums. “I think I’ll talk to my therapist about it…”

                “I think that’s an excellent idea,” Jake says, and he wonders if it’s them that places the seed in Bradley’s mind.

                “When did you get so smart?” Bradley asks and Jake snorts.

                “I’ve always been smart. You were just too busy to notice.”

                “Oh no, I always noticed you. I meant… you’ve gotten smart about me. It’s like… you sometimes know what I need even before I do.”

                “Just been paying attention Bradshaw…”

                “Bradshaw is it?” Bradley asks, eyebrow quirking up and Jake raises both his eyebrows in response, because he’s never going to get sick of flirting with him.

                He knows it to his core.

…            …            …

                “What do you think about me becoming a therapist?”

                “I think you’d kill it.”

                “Jake. Be serious.”

                “I am being serious! You would make a great therapist…”

                “I… you really think so?”

                “Babe. Bradley… why’d you join the Navy?”

                “To fly.”

                “If you hadn’t made it into aviation, what would you have done? Stayed?”

                “Yeah. Probably.”

                “Why?”

                “What do you mean why?”

                “Deeper than flying… why did you join?”

                “To…” Jake waits. He’s pretty sure he knows why, suspects Bradley’s therapist also knows why but Bradley hasn’t maybe put it together yet. “To serve… well. To help people I guess.”

                “Hmm. Like I said. I think you’d be pretty good at it.”

…            …            …

                So their lives shift a little again, and Bradley goes back to study, and he’s going to the same University as Amelia and suddenly he gets why and how Amelia becomes so entrenched in their lives. She spends the first year in the dorms, and Bradley rattles around in a two-bedroom apartment. Bradley has never lived alone and while he’s away Jake worries, so when he suggests Amelia maybe move in and they live together everyone treats him like it’s a genius solution. Which finds him, the summer before her second year helping her move in. While she’ll keep Bradley company while Jake’s deployed, her living with Bradley has made both Penny and Mav feel an infinite sense of relief about her living off-campus.

                “I feel much better about her living with you than in a sorority house or… well. I know you’ll keep an eye on her,” Maverick is saying and Jake catches Bradley’s eyeroll from across the room. Penny is busy cleaning the kitchen and doing a deep clean, which he knows Bradley is going to appreciate. Eventually. Once everything is back where Bradley wants it.

                “Yeah, because she’s totally going to want to hang out with me…” Bradley says with a grin towards Amelia and she grins back.

                “Don’t sell yourself short. You’re okay looking for an older guy, might make me look a little more interesting if I’m seen talking to you…”

                “You hear this Jake? I’m okay looking!”

                “For an older guy. I mean… I’d fuck you,” Jake calls back with a grin and Amelia pretends to vomit. Penny calls out a reprimand and all three of them roll their eyes, because they’ve all heard Penny swear a blue-streak.

                “Can you two ever not be gross?”

                “Nope.”

                He likes Amelia living with Bradley, it means he doesn’t worry so much when he’s deployed. That Bradley will make sure Amelia eats, and therefor taking care of his own needs. Plus he starts messaging Amelia for behind the scene updates and she doesn’t disappoint and Jake gets daily candid photos of Bradley doing domestic shit, or passed out cold on the sofa, or on campus meeting with his study group. When he comes back she makes herself scarce for twenty-four hours and then he takes her out for an expensive meal, which is apparently an acceptable trade.

…            …            …

                “This weekend! We’ve got forty-eight hours man. You said you wanted to be my best man, well, time to be the best…”

                “What?”

                “We’re getting married this weekend! Sunday!”

                Jake freezes, because they hadn’t set a date and he’d sort of been drifting, knowing that it was going to be ten-years from whenever they got married. And now he has a date. One only two days away.

                “Why are we in such a rush?”

                “You’re here, I’m here, Nix is here… Bradshaw can get here. She wants it in the small chapel on base, the one with those big pale wood arches. Plus we don’t want to wait anymore.”

                “Holy shit. Yeah. Okay. Fucking… tell me what you need me to do.”

                He rings Bradley, tells him he needs to get on a plane if he wants to stand up as witness for Nix. Of course Bradley drops everything, Amelia insisting on coming and Jake knows that that’s how it’s going to work, she’s going to be as big a part of Javy and Nix’s kids’ live as he and Bradley will be, so her being at the wedding feels right. Then Jake finds himself organizing a cake and a simple flower bouquet. Javy and Nix both have given him very strict instructions to not even think the word wedding when talking to anyone.

                The service is going to be small and private, set for the afternoon after the standard Sunday morning service. They have a week before they both get deployed again, so Jake searches for a resort within an hour drive which also has a honeymoon suite available, books it for them for five nights and lets them know he’s sorted his and Bradley’s wedding present to them.

                He’s pretty proud of what he and Javy have managed to achieve. The chapel didn’t need any decorating, but the Hard Deck, where they’re having the reception of sorts tomorrow evening, well, he supposes he has Penny and Amelia to thank for that, along with Maverick and Bradley. They’ve found soft fairy lights and large white paper lanterns and the whole place is unrecognizable as their usual watering hole. Except he recognizes it. It’s exactly like it is (was?) in the photos he can still remember looking at. As they shut up for the night everything is set for tomorrow and Jake doesn’t know why he’s so nervous.

                It’s not his wedding.

…            …            …

                Bradley has the confidence to look good in a hessian sack, and the legs to pull it off. In a tailored suit he looks mouthwatering. Jake knows he isn’t too shabby looking himself, glad he has an excuse to wear his suit rather than his dress uniform.

                “You look good…” Bradley says, giving him a slow sweep with his eyes and Jake laughs.

                “I am good…”

                “Fuck yeah you are…”

                “Not how it’s meant to go, but I’ll take it…” Jake says with a smirk, because he gets it now, why Bradley had looked at him so weirdly when he’d told Jake he looked good and he’d replied with a simple good morning. Fuck, no wonder Bradley believed him. That and Jake told him. At the wedding that they’re both at right now. Javy and Nix have disappeared somewhere for some photos, but Jake knows that they’re going to come through the doors, with Nix wearing a different dress from the one she got married in but looking no less gorgeous or happy.

                “Want to hear something really crazy?” Jake asks, leaning against Bradley for the reassurance of his presence, hopes he manages to come across as… sincere rather than insane.

                “Crazier than deciding to get married within two days?”

                “Yeah. Much crazier…” Jake says, and he’s still hold the half-filled champagne glass they’d used to toast Javy and Nix earlier. “I’ve seen photos of this… of this moment right here that we are in right now.”

                “How much have you had to drink?” Bradley asks with a laugh, taking the glass from his fingers.

                “Four sips of that champagne.”

                “So… what? You’ve got a sense of déjà vu?”

                “No. More than that… Just… imagine this with me. One day, actually, exactly ten years in the future, we’re happily married; I wake up and your arms are around me. Javy and Nat are off celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary and we’re looking after their three kids. They love and trust us enough to look after these three precious little humans. So I wake up and I don’t remember any of that. All I remember is being on a carrier stationed near Japan and suddenly I’m not anymore.”

                “What are you…”

                “Just… listen. So in ten years if I act a little weird for a couple of days, well, you made me fall in love with you over the space of a weekend… showed me how well we work together. I’m looking forward to filling in all the blanks.”

                “You’re… Jake. Are you being serious right now…”

                He shrugs.

                “Maybe it was just a dream. But it was a very fucking vivid dream. And I’d put money on Natasha and Javy coming through that door, she’s changed to a salsa dress and Javy’s going to be wearing suspenders and looking ridiculous, but they’re going to do a surprise dance number for us… we have a photo of it on the wall.”

                “Oh my god, you’re serious. Jake.”

                “I fell in love with you in this dream, and it made me want that with you so much… and I kind of figured if I could make you fall in love with me then we might get a chance at this happily ever after dream of mine.”

                “You’re a secret romantic… I mean, I knew that already. But just getting it confirmed again. I love you, you weird strange man.”

                “Mmm. Yeah. Love you too.”

…            …            …

                With the wedding photos now available he starts building the photo albums for his future-past self, and even if it’s all crazy and it never happens he doesn’t want to take the chance. Also he finds going through all their photos and picking the ones for including in a book to be an activity that brings him a lot of joy, seeing all their happiest moments and proudest achievements frozen in time.

…            …            …

                When they’re on vacation in the Rockies and Jake recognizes the view, stands there and takes it in with a deep breath, turns back to see what the hell is keeping Bradley only to find him on bended knee holding a ring box and even though he knew he would end up marrying him, having someone declare they love you so much they want to spend the rest of their live with you makes him burst into tears. He takes so many photos through blurry eyes, knowing that at least one is going to turn out so he can include the view in the photo album.

…            …            …

                Their bands are simple gold, although they’re made from gold melted down from Bradley’s parents wedding rings and a bangle that used to belong to his mom. Maverick had insisted on him keeping it all, and when Bradley gets a little emotional slipping the ring onto Jake’s finger he knows the moment is bittersweet, the fact that his parents aren’t here sad but the joy of the day will be everlasting. A photo of their joined hands, both showing off their rings, means more than just the start of their marriage. It encompasses their pasts too and he goes through the process of changing his name to Bradshaw.

…            …            …

                They have their honeymoon on a small island in the Pacific Ocean, and despite Jake’s insistence that Bradley didn’t use high enough SPF sunscreen and reapply it often enough after swimming Bradley gets terribly sunburnt on their third day. Fortunately the air conditioning in their private cabin is good, and they’re more than happy to spend the time together in bed. When the worst of it is over though Bradley starts peeling, making it somehow look worse and when they venture out to the night markets to find food Bradley gives him such a stink eye after he snaps a quick picture and sends it to the group chat.

…            …            …

                There are moments which he doesn’t capture. Natasha and Javy inviting him and Bradley over for dinner and telling them that they’re expecting a baby. That they’d like Jake and Bradley to be the godparents, and legal guardians, and that they want them both involved in the family care plan, seeing as they both still serve. Bradley’s jaw drops but Jake knew, hoped, and he wonders when he starts looking for their house. Their home. Of course both he and Javy are deployed when Nix gives birth to Alleisha, but Bradley is there for the birth, sounds fairly awed and disgusted by the whole process. Amelia makes herself invaluable and he knows now that she’s a speech and play therapist. Her and Bradley talk about things that overlap, but Bradley doesn’t ever work with kids, but he is good with them. One of Jake’s new favorite pastimes is watching Bradley hold Alleisha.

…            …            …

                He sees the notice and does a double take, because there’s a photo and he finds himself paying more attention to those these days than he ever has before. The dog looks like Thea. Bradley’s Thea. He wonders if he’s the one that gets Bradley a puppy. He snaps a picture of the flyer to show Bradley. When he raises it later, whether Bradley has ever thought of getting a dog, he gets a shake of the head and a weird look. Apparently Carole was allergic. Huh. Okay. Maybe things will be different.

                Of course he comes home two days later and finds a book about therapy dogs on the counter and he grins at it, raps his knuckles against it and then turns to find Bradley watching him from the doorway.

                “Am I getting a dog?” Bradley asks, and it’s like this sometimes, like he thinks Jake is somehow psychic and he guesses he does have quite a few insights about their future, but they’re more like markers laid out on a trail and he has to find all the paths between the points. He tries to keep them to himself for the most part, not wanting to enjoy the moments and time he has.

                “I don’t know. Do you want a dog?”

                “I didn’t think so. But I had my therapy appointment today.”

                “Yeah?”

                “And my therapist had a friend visiting who breeds therapy dogs. And that picture you showed me? That was her.”

                “Oh shit…”

                “Hmm. Her current litter is all spoken for, but Ali asked me if I would be interested in one from the next litter.”

                “That’s a hell of a coincidence…” Jake says.

                “Yeah well, I said I was. So I guess I’m getting a dog.”

…            …            …

                He’s deployed when Bradley sends him the link to several house listings, and then he sees it. Pictures of their house and his heart swells. There it is. He sends back this one. Bradley asks him if he’s sure, says it needs a lot of work. Jake replies that he’s as certain about the house as he is about loving him and that’s all that Bradley needs to make an offer. When he steps inside the first time his eyes widen, because it is nothing like he remembers but also Bradley had said it needed a lot of work. He wasn’t fucking joking.

                “I hope you like DIY…” Bradley murmurs, coming up behind him and pressing against him and Jake looks around, remembers photos of them painting and grins to himself.

                “Yeah, I think I’ll like it fine…”

…            …            …

                They have a trip to the beach, Nix and Alleisha firmly planted under a sun umbrella when Javy pulls out a soccer ball. He remembers the pain in his knee and he wonders if he should maybe avoid playing if it means he doesn’t get hurt. Except he can’t. He can’t not take part and he tries to be careful but when he feels his foot shift on the sand and his body weight goes the wrong direction over his knee he knows. He doesn’t try any heroics like walking on it. Tells Javy and Bradley both that they’re going to have to carry him and take him to the hospital immediately; asks for icepacks to assist with the swelling. Javy looks at him like he’s crazy but Bradley looks at him with wild eyes.

                “It’s my ACL and LCL. I’ll need surgery but I will fly again. Going to have to get used to having me around for a bit though…”

                Of course Bradley rolls his eyes, has words with Jake later about why he didn’t avoid the injury and he shrugs, says he doesn’t have it in him not to be competitive and kick a ball around with Javy. The benefit of being on light duty while he recovers and rehabs his knee means he’s there for James’ birth and holy shit. He gets why Bradley didn’t want to do it again.

…            …            …

                He smears the paint down Bradley’s naked chest, and the dark blue looks really nice against his skin. He says as much and Bradley twists against him, laughs and tries to buck him off where Jake’s got him pinned.

                “Uh uh Bradshaw… going to take you apart…”

                “Jake… the paint… it’ll dry and make a mess…”

                “Don’t care. We can buy more paint. We can clean up the mess… want to make another sort of mess right now.”

                With that declaration Bradley stops fighting and instead reaches to bring him down for a kiss and Jake grins into it, because he likes getting his way.

                Later, when Amelia and Bradley are both laughing at him over glasses of wine as he clips chunks of dried paint out of his hair he is less happy, but he still wouldn’t change anything.

…            …            …

                “Bradshaw… any relation to Nick Bradshaw?”

                “My late father-in-law,” Jake provides, and the eyebrows of the Admiral in front of him shoot up.

                “You married…”

                “Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw. Retired. Nick Bradshaw’s son.”

                “Huh. Means you must know Maverick as well then. I’m sorry Captain, what was your name previously?”

                “Seresin sir. Much prefer keeping the Bradshaw name and legacy alive and well instead.”

                There is a flash of recognition at his old name, because he’s just as legendary as Maverick now, if not better because he’s also known as someone who has saved Maverick’s life in the top-secret mission that of course everyone has heard rumors about. It’s years ago now though, and he doesn’t need to think anymore about his signature when he signs paperwork.

                “Fair enough.”

…            …            …

                Bradley buys him a camera for his obsession with taking photos and he enjoys it, becomes the unofficial photographer of their wider group of friends even though he’s got his own reasons for taking the photos. However he continues documenting all their vacations and gatherings, takes family photos and candid shots of them just hanging out. He doesn’t take any of it for granted, still occasionally blinks awake from sleep with his heart pounding and the knowledge that his life would be very different if he’d been a second later.

…            …            …

                When Brandy is born Javy is not deployed and both he and Bradley tell him he’s on his own. Instead they look after Alleisha and James, their bedroom is the biggest one in their house and there’s already a crib ready and waiting for when Brandy is old enough to start staying over. He startles then, realizing that it’s getting closer. The ten-year anniversary of Javy and Nat’s wedding. He pulls out a phone and looks at the calendar for 2035. Their anniversary is on a Friday next year. He has about nine months to prepare and he submit his leave request immediately.

…            …            …

                Of course he doesn’t get nine months. He’s deployed for a long six-month stint and he knows he’s missing some key moments in Brandy’s life, having seen so many of James’ while he was rehabbing his knee. However he’ll be home two weeks before the wedding anniversary and that’ll give him plenty of time to reacquaint himself with his husband before he… well. He’s not sure where he might go while his younger self is going to be hanging out in his body. He wonders if he’ll be back on the carrier in Japan and suddenly scrambles for memories that he might have to recall. Maybe he’ll just fake a stomach bug and get quarantined for the duration.

                “I can’t believe it’s been almost ten years…”

                “Best ten years of my life… and then some,” Jake murmurs, pressing a kiss onto the naked skin of Bradley’s shoulder. “Ten years…” Jake repeats and Bradley startles a little.

                “Yeah. Tenth anniversary. You uh…”

                “I remember what I told you… I still have no idea what the hell happened, or if it is even real but I guess we’ll know soon enough.”

                “Yeah, I guess we will.”

…            …            …

                He wakes under the weight of Bradley’s arm, his entire body pressed up tight against the line of Jake’s back, including a semi-hard erection and he knows without even opening his eyes that he’s back home, right time and right place, right name and also that while he can’t explain it he’s also not been fucking imagining what happened. He rocks back against Bradley’s cock and feels joy bubbling away through his entire body.

                “Mmm… Jake.”

                “Morning.”

                “Mmm,” Bradley mumbles, snuffling into the back of Jake’s hair and he keeps rocking, can feel the effect it’s having, can feel Bradley beginning to rock back into the friction, seeking it out. Then he’s gone, sharply pulling away, snapping on the bedside light and Jake winces and shades his eyes.

                “What the fuck Bradley…”

                “Are you…”

                “One hundred percent me, back to normal.”

                “You’ve never been fucking normal a day in your life…”

                Jake laughs.

                “Glad to have me back?”

                “Yes! Oh my god. So glad. I completely forgot… you let me sleep in! You… how the fuck did you just wake up and not freak the fuck out? I stress cleaned Jake. Our house is fucking spotless.”

                “Oh yeah… I remember that. I thought you were putting off having sex with me…”

                “That’s what I was stressing out about! You didn’t seem any different!”

                “You can have sex with me now. Again… also I was plenty freaked out but I also remember feeling pretty pleased that I had somehow gotten married to you.”

                “Oh my god… how… what even...”

                “I don’t know. Some things just can’t be explained I guess. Now going to give me my standard welcome home?”

                “Jake…”

                “Mmm… I fell in love with you over this weekend and then made you fall in love with me.”

                “You… so you don’t know what’s going to happen from now?”

                “I mean, I have some hopes for the short term…” Jake says, reaching a hand to stroke Bradley’s cock which makes him laugh and settle back against Jake, facing him and circling his hand around both their cocks. “And it’ll be our anniversary soon. Want to go to Hawaii?”

                “I guess the future is all ours…”

                “Baby, it’s always been ours.”

THE END

[skyfallscotland]

I don’t know if this is weird, but I don’t have many friends and I am weird, admittedly so…yolo, but this is just a diary post really of all the things on my mind right now.

• The response on ink & mistletoe was really lovely and I’m especially grateful for it while I’m still having a rough time.

• I really wanted to write more this week because I wanted to finish off ink & mistletoe and Truth & Talon before Onyx Storm comes out, but I have a migraine again and I’ve just been so exhausted it’s not happening, which sucks.

• I did start a new book though—my first of 2025—Just For the Summer by Abby Jimenez. One of my resolutions for the new year is to read more actual books, so I’m off to a start at least. One thing that wigged me out though, it’s first person past-tense? What the fuck is that, why are we doing that? My brain does not like.

• Speaking of Onyx Storm, should I start posting my theories now as I write them, or just save it for one big post a few days before?

• I’m still incredibly bothered by not only the continuing trend of oh surprise another special edition with content not available to you! But also mostly the response from other people to it, mostly Americans, because no one else is saying “no one’s making you buy them all” or “having choices is a good thing” because uhh *checks notes* we don’t? We just pay twice the amount of money you do for made-in-a-sweatshop, falling apart crap with less features.

• Also, just as an aside so you all are ready, I’m fairly certain there’s a special edition of Iron Flame coming…probably with bonus content. Someone asked if she was going to do one because it just had plain edges and she replied with a winking face. I’m going to say in Feb/March, and with dragon edges to match OS & the original FW print run. Call me Cassandra, idk.

• My (undiagnosed, I guess) OCD is getting worse, so if anyone has any tips or tricks for that throw them my way because seeing a psychiatrist in this town is not only the price of a small car, but almost impossible. Everyone’s books are closed, because we’re all a fucking mess apparently idk. They did say they had someone who might find me and my eclectic collection of mental illnesses “interesting” though, so I at least get to send my referral through 🙃

• Lastly, I am once again calling for people to stop drowning. If you come to Australia, please understand how rips work. If you’re not a strong swimmer, don’t swim anywhere there aren’t lifeguards. You are not as safe as you think you are, I promise you. Almost every day there’s been another drowning death that’s been entirely preventable and it’s infuriating, half the time there are kids involved. Don’t put your kids at risk for fuck’s sake. View the below if you’re curious (or coming here). I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t spot them from front on, most people can’t unless they grew up on the beach, but again, if you can’t that’s why you shouldn’t swim anywhere help can’t get to you. 31 people drowned in four weeks is madness when there are over 600 patrolled beaches in this country. And people worry about the wildlife, good lord.

[draconic-distress]

Ok i know i don’t really fragmem post over here but there’s something that’s been bothering me lately that i kinda wanna talk about in the same vein as my past analysis posts. I’m not trying to start anything and everyone is entitled to their headcanons and opinions, and I will continue to believe that because it’s rude to overstep on things like that. That being said…

This post is about Myunna’s age. And the fact that, seeing as they’re often viewed and depicted as a child by the fandom…

Then why isn’t Rimicha?

Like I said, I’m not looking to start a fight, and I’m not trying to change anyone’s headcanons or beliefs. This is just something that’s been bothering me personally, and I thought I’d bring it up while we wait for the final part of Blue episode 3 to come out in a few days.

To start off, I wanna compare Rimicha and Myunna as characters and examine what makes them so childlike in the fandom’s eyes—the latter more than the former. A lot of surface level things are easy to pick up on:

Both of them have very ‘’’childlike’’’ personalities, in terms of coming across as irresponsible, skittish, excitable, insecure due to their inexperience in comparison to their fellow knights, etcetera.

2. Similarly to the previous point, this behavior can also lead to other people treating them differently, be it teasingly/affectionately or just outright talked down to like they're kids. This carries over to the fandom in a way

3. Both of them are barely over five foot. In fact, Rimicha is only three inches taller than Myunna (Rimicha is 5’5” or 165 cm, Myunna is 5’2” or 157 cm). That’s not a very big discrepancy

4. Both of them are twinks. I’m correct and you know that I mean look at them. They’re both skinny, shorter boys who appear younger and more androgynous in comparison to their peers and seniors

5. Both of them are not only the youngest of their Bouquets, but are also the youngest of all the Fragaria Knights overall

This chartthat was recently released by the official twitter shows the age:time serving ratio of each knight, and seems to imply that each space is only a one year gap between characters—for the most part—which already tells us a lot. Based on that math, Myunna and Rimicha are barely a year apart in age, and less than that in the amount of time between when they each became knights.

So all things considered, Myunna and Rimicha are roughly the same age and should be treated as such, right?

But the thing is… they’re not.

Rimicha is treated as an adult by the fandom, he’s his fellow knight’s peer and trusted ally, and the fandom doesn’t deny that for even a second. Myunna, however, is treated as a child, as in like 10-14 age range, and is not viewed with the same respect and fairness their Red Bouquet contemporary is.

Something about that has always bothered me. With how they both act, look, and the fact they're the youngest of their groups—and overall—it's strange that the fandom views them so differently when there's so much similarity between them. I genuinely don't know where that would've come from.

One reason I can believe for people viewing Myunna as younger by comparison is the fact that they’ve skipped a grade in Knight School, as confirmed by the interviews conducted for the first anniversary

I can see why this would make people think that, but I really don't think it quite adds up to conclude that Myunna is a minor, especially if it was only one year they skipped.

We don't know much about Knight School, so for now let's say it lasts about as long as a normal high school/college, and you go for four years. And let's say Myunna was 14 when they started going, since that seems like a reasonable age for them to have started going while still being young.

By that math, the youngest they could've graduated would be 17. I doubt they'd let anyone under like 16 be a knight, but I can believe Myunna—who would have been over 16 based on our math—became a knight right out of the gate if they really were that prodigal.

To add on to this, let's take note of our good friend the age:time served ratio chart again:

notice the portion I've circled, which is roughly 1 1/2–2 1/2 knights long. If we're going off of the logic that one space equates to one year, then that means by the time the actual main story of Blue Bouquet occurs and we're introduced to Myunna, then according to our math they would have to be 18–19 years old minimum at that point.

This logic can also work backwards towards the argument that Rimicha is also a minor, by virtue of the fact that he must have been in Knight School around the same time, and is only a year older than Myunna—I personally believe they're both adults, though, albeit very young adults.

So what's the deal? Like genuinely I wanna hear everyone's perspective on this because I don't know where that split came from. What about Rimicha makes him seem more like an adult than Myunna?

Like I said, I'm not trying to start anything by pointing this out, it's just something I noticed within the fandom and wanted to put down my thoughts about. I won't disrespect anyone's views or headcanons because of my own thoughts, so if you don't want to believe what I have to say, then you're under absolutely no obligation to, and that's ok. If you have your own input, then feel free to share, just please be civil. Everyone's entitled to their opinions, even if we disagree, and I'll continue to respect that!

[torturedpoetsapartmentcomplex]

My friend just said “member this😂” and sent me the jimmy fallon interview of Taylor after LASIK and idk how to tell her that interview actually makes me sooo unbelievably fucking uncomfortable and I don’t find it fucking funny at all. Taylor was SO NICE about it, I could not keep my composure that way if someone did that to me.

Can you imagine not only being asked (on live national television) about medical procedures you’ve just had done (that you’ve been very private about,) but on top of that, they have FOOTAGE of you, high as a kite on heavy post-op painkillers (meaning you could not possibly have consented to being recorded in the first place, ily mama swift but yikes do not do that) and then everyone eagerly watches and thinks it’s sooo cute silly funny goofy🤪 What the ABSOLUTE FUCK

[kimtaegis]

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