#since this is apparently a scalding fucking take

[remlionheart]

“You came.”

“You called.”

✧˚ · .MDNI 18+✧˚ · .

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ WHEWWWW. I had no idea when I first started writing this just how much it was going to suck me in. Sweet/toxic!Megumi had my brain doing fuckin' wheelies. All characters are aged up. 21+. Fem!reader x Megumi. AU where Megumi was raised by Toji and is navigating adulthood while still carrying around those old parental wounds. Hurt comfort / angst / smut. porn with a plot. praise kink girlies, this is for you. 3.6k words. super proud of this, lemme know whatcha think. luv you <3 ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

It’d been 4 months since the last time Megumi had seen you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

He’d woken up in what used to be your apartment with the taste of liquor from the night before still lingering on his tongue and unwanted snippets of your latest fight still ringing in his ears. He rolled over to see you curled up on your side, as far away from him as you could possibly get while still sharing the same bed. He ran a hand over his face, regret and nausea churning in his stomach while more flashbacks of the argument that had caused the divide between you smashed through his mind.

His footsteps were heavy as he made his way into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He turned the water up as hot as it would go before stripping out of his boxers. He wanted to sweat out the guilt he felt. Wanted to burn away the insults you’d both thrown at each other. Wanted to focus on anything else besides the way he’d made you cry.

He winced when the water made contact with his skin. It was scalding, fanning across his back with vengeance. But it was vengeance that he felt he deserved.

“Why?” His eyes closed, remembering how hard you were trying to keep yourself together despite the obvious pain that was plaguing your small body. The way your lip had quivered and the way your arms had protectively wrapped around your stomach when you looked up at him. “Why can’t you ever just tell me what’s going on with you?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to.

God, he wanted to. To open up. To tell you all of the fucked-up things that went on in his head. To voice his insecurities so that maybe they’d finally stop repeating on the same never-ending loop that they had been stuck on his whole life. To tell you that he didn’t think he was enough. To tell you that he was scared to lose you. That it was something he thought about nearly every day.

But it wasn’t that easy. He was only capable of doing what he knew, and he had absolutely no fucking idea how to deal with his own vulnerability. Let alone express it in a way that wasn't damaging to both of you.

Being raised by Toji had been like taking a master class in emotional avoidance and Megumi was very much his father’s prodigy.

He knew how to argue. He knew how to deflect. He knew how to win a fight. He knew how to manipulate a conversation so that he never had to say more than he wanted to. And he didn’t just know how to do these things, he excelled at them.

It was why he had always been so reserved. It was why he’d beat up all those kids in middle school just for looking at him. It was why at 21, rather than saying “I’m sorry” to resolve an ongoing issue with his girlfriend, he’d opted for, “Then fucking leave" instead.

He stepped out of the shower with red welts decorating his back and sweat dripping down his face. He wiped the steam away from the mirror to reveal blood-shot eyes as he wrapped a towel around his waist. His midnight hair was unusually straight and flat, pressed loosely against his forehead.

He let out an exhale, trading in his introspection for detachment when he heard the bathroom door open.

You observed him quietly, noting his reddened skin and his apparent discomfort at seeing you.

Your head tilted slightly, looking over his clenched jaw and the way his shoulders never truly relaxed. It hurt to see him and it hurt even worse to not see him, but as he stared back at you through hooded eyes, you realized that you had wasted so much time searching for softness in a place you’d never find it.

Megumi Fushiguro was beautifully broken. An intricate stained-glass mural that had been shattered by undeserving hands. Mesmerizing to look at but much too rigid to touch. And though he shined perfectly in the right lighting, your mangled fingertips were begging you to finally put the pieces down.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s nothing...” You shook your head, taking in his sharp edges for what you assumed would be the last time. “You just look like him… that’s all.”

His chest tightened, a rare, visible crack forming in his usual cold demeanor as he stared back at you. He’d been able to avoid everything he didn’t want to deal with in life, everything – until he met you.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A pint of whiskey loomed back at him from his nightstand as he ran a hand through his spiked hair, lethargically watching the ceiling fan spin above him.

His vision was hazy, his body tired from training all day. He wanted to sleep. Wanted to close his eyes and drift off for a few hours, but he knew his mind wasn’t going to grant him that mercy.

So, he drank.

Light rain tapped against his window as he held the bottle to his lips, letting a comforting burn travel down his throat while he pulled his phone out from under his pillow.

You had become a ghost in his life after that morning. A memory that he kept buried so far down, he’d almost partially convinced himself that you were actually gone. You were a late-night whisper that he’d ignore. A song on the radio that he’d immediately turn off. A stabbing, fleeting thought he’d learned to block out on his way home from work.

He had given up going to his favorite restaurants and shops in fear that you might be there. He had cut all ties with Nobara since you guys were so close, not wanting to hear anything about you. He had isolated himself to work and his apartment, not allowing himself the chance to accidentally bump into you.

He’d taken so many precautions. Did everything he possibly could to not see you. And yet, he was gradually starting to realize that maybe it’d all been in vain. That even with how much his life had changed, he was still somehow doing the exact same thing he’d done when he was with you.

After all this time, he was still running.

With one last swig, he finished off his pint and grabbed his phone again, not allotting himself enough time to backpedal.

Dialing your number was like muscle memory even with how long it'd been since he'd done it. He wasn't sure what he was going to say if you answered. He definitely wasn't sure what he was going to say tomorrow if you didn't answer. All he knew was that he was finally done avoiding you.

“Megumi…?” your voice was warm, familiar, static against his ear.

“You’re up late.”

There was a pause followed by a reluctant, “Yeah… so are you.”

He mentally kicked himself as an unsure silence settled between the two of you. He had so many things he needed to say but quickly realized that he couldn’t say any of them now that he was here.

His feelings were heavy and important and way too repressed to be spilled out over a late-night phone call. “I know it’s raining, and whatever but…” He cleared his throat. “Are you busy…?”

“Right now?” He couldn’t help but smirk at your snarky, half-hearted laugh. “I mean, it’s 1:30 in the morning. So, no. Not really.”

“Good. Come over.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t just –”

But he already had.

He ended the call, abruptly cutting off your flimsy attempt at protesting him before sending you a text with his address and standing up to dig a black t-shirt out of his closet.

His apartment was damn near spotless aside from some empty whiskey bottles littering his nightstand, but he still made compulsive laps back and forth from his bedroom to his kitchen as he threw them away and cracked a couple of windows open to let some fresh air in. It was an odd feeling, knowing that you were going to be standing in the one place that didn’t remind him of you.

He checked his phone while heading into the bathroom. You hadn't said anything, but he knew you well enough to know that you were probably only minutes away by now.

He ran contemplative fingers through his hair, making sure each spike was pointed and curled up to his satisfaction. He hated to admit it, but your words had been haunting his reflection since the morning they left your mouth. He had become painfully aware of how much his eyes, his mannerisms, his facial structure all resembled the man he didn't want to become.

His past may have already been accounted for but as he heard the knock at his front door, he finally began to see something different in the mirror that once taunted him. He watched his stare soften and his shoulders loosen. He noted how much tension his body had let go of at just the thought of you. He was about to let his guard down in the biggest way possible and instead of having a visceral reaction, he felt ready.

With one last glance at himself, he let out a decisive breath and headed down the hall. The future was in his hands and even if he did have his father's features, he knew his grasp was much steadier.

You were in an oversized grey hoodie with your hair thrown into a loose side-bun, your shorts just barely visible and your skin damp from the rain.

Neither one of you said anything, both too busy studying the person in front of you to bother with words. Your eyes trailed over him with warranted skepticism, an internal battle between logic and emotion arising the longer you looked at him.

He could see it; he could feel it - the way you wanted to trust him but couldn't.

"You came." he finally said, his voice gentler than you remembered it being.

You shrugged, almost embarrassed by your own honesty.

"You called."

The two of you exchanged the same somber smile before he nodded for you to follow him.

The smell of his cologne mixed with spring air swirled around you as you walked into his room. His walls were covered in art - framed line work, oil paintings, black and grey portraits. Everything was strategically placed and organized. His bed made neatly with white sheets and a black duvet. It was all very him.

He leaned against the wall in front of you as you took a seat on the edge of his mattress.

“How’ve you been?”

It should've been an easy question and under different circumstances, it probably would've been.

But it was late and you were on his bed and he looked beautiful and you wished he didn't and the weight of the situation was suddenly hitting you all at once.

“I've been alright.” You lied, repositioning yourself. "Just busy with classes and stuff. What about you...?"

He watched the way your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shorts. The way you shifted your weight as you dangled one leg off of the bed and held the other against your chest.

“Quit.”

You paused, your gaze reluctantly returning to his. “Quit what?”

“Being nervous.” He pushed himself away from the wall and sat down next to you, heeding his own advice. “I just have some stuff I need to say, that's all."

You gave him a slow nod, letting go of the loose piece of thread.

His legs were spread slightly, his elbows resting on his thighs and his chin in his hands as he looked over at you. "You were right."

He had officially gained your attention with that one simple admission.

"I do need to open up more, it's just -" He took a breath, determination flickering through his eyes. "It's just fucking hard, you know? But that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. Truly. I'm sorry for everything I did to you while we were together. I should've said it the last time I saw you. I should've said it months before that. I should've just said it at least a hundred times. But I didn't, so I'm saying it now." His hand was warm as he carefully reached for yours. "I shouldn't have shut you out like I did. You're... the one person I never wanted to push away... I love you."

It felt as though all of the oxygen had been stripped from the room, your heart forgetting how to beat while you looked back at him in awe. Your thoughts were everywhere. The war of logic versus emotion still violently raging on.

His fingers laced into yours and you let them. His grasp felt safe and secure. His eyes were full of a sense of patience and vulnerability that you didn't think you'd ever seen before.

"Don't let him do this to you again." Nobara had warned you on your drive over here. "He might care about you. Hell, he might even really love you, but he doesn't know how and you can't keep making that your problem over and over again. It's not fair."

"Look..." Your breathing was uneven, your voice giving away your internal struggle no matter how hard you tried to conceal it. "I forgive you, but we... can't. I mean, we can't just keep doing this over and over. It's... not fair." It had held so much more conviction when it came from your best friend, but it was the best you could manage.

His hand disappeared from yours, wandering up to your cheek to catch tears that you didn't even realize had fallen. "Okay..." he conceded.

His tone was despondent, but his touch was soft. Light fingertips glided along your jawline, his face only centimeters apart from yours. "Then we won't."

"We won't." You repeated back to him, trying desperately to ignore the way his exhale fanned felicitously across your lips.

"Because..." You swallowed hard, watching his gaze drift carefully across your face. "We shouldn't."

He shook his head in agreement. "Absolutely shouldn't." He whispered, his hand trailing up to the back of your neck.

"And..." Emotion was putting up the fight of its life, your pupils widening as you stared back at him. "I deserve better."

"So much better." he echoed, leaning in closer, his mouth just barely grazing yours. "You deserve the fucking world."

Your body was betraying every bit of your sentiment, your breath hitching in your throat while his fingers tangled into your hair. "Megumi... you can't..."

"I'm not." his voice was like honey, his lips still ghosting yours. "All you have to do is pull away." His other hand began to slide delicately up your thigh, making it nearly impossible to focus on anything else. "Pull away and I'll walk you back to your car. We'll act like none of this ever happened."

"Megumi, please." It was a whimper. A pathetic plea that held no real merit. You weren't sure if you were begging for him to touch you or not touch you.

"I won't call you again. Won't see you again." His nails began to dig into the tenderness your inner thigh, his eyes still locked fiercely with yours. "I'll leave you alone for good this time... That's what you want, right?"

Wetness seeped between your legs as he kept on toying with the opening of your shorts. The warmth of his hand so infuriatingly close to where you wanted it and where it shouldn't be. Your already weak resolve was crumbling.

"Tell me to stop."

His forehead pressed against yours, opposite hand still holding your neck in place. "Tell me." He tried again, but all of your words had been stolen by the feeling of his palm roaming up towards your center.

With only a thin layer of fabric separating his fingers from you, he slowly began to spread you apart. If he hadn't been able to see your desperation before, he could certainly feel it now.

He watched every last bit of composure you had vanish as he started to draw soft, heavenly circles around your clit. Drowning in the little yelps and whines that you were trying so hard to bite back.

"Tell me to fucking stop."

There was suddenly no logic left in your brain. No one in control. No way to fight the way he was making you feel. You were a needy, pining mess and your body was practically groveling for him.

You finally let your lips catch his, shamelessly moaning against him while his grip tightened in your hair. "Don't -" You let out between heady breaths. "Don't stop. Please don't ever stop."

You were lost somewhere between his feral ocean eyes and the way his tongue swirled around yours.

He pulled the fabric to the side, plunging two unexpected fingers inside of you, smirking at the surprised squeal it'd gained him.

"Oh, that's my girl." He groaned, watching your eyes double in size.

Your walls were swallowing him, clenching around him shamelessly while more uncontrollable noises filled the room.

His thumb brushed against your clit, rubbing back and forth with precision as his fingers continued to slam into you. The three of them working together in perfect synchronicity. "There you go, that’s it.”

It had been so long. You knew it wouldn't take much, but you still felt pathetic when you realized you were already there. "Megumi- 'm -"

It almost caught both of you off guard how little it took. Your eyes snapped shut, your bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you soaked him. Your hips were thrusting, your pussy unapologetically dripping all over his hand while you mewled and writhed against him.

"Poor thing. Has it really been that long?"

It was somehow sweet, the way he mocked you.

His movements became more urgent, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you to your feet so that he could help you out of your clothes. Your hoodie went first, your nipples hardening as you stood in front of him.

"So fucking pretty." He praised, still sitting on the edge of the bed. His hands were warm against your waist, tugging off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, admiring the shiny slick glistening off of your cunt.

He took a moment to look you over, quietly memorizing every inch before his own pants were tossed aside.

Your legs straddled him as he guided you on top of him, his hands placed firmly on your hips. You drew in a shallow breath, watching him rub his tip against you, wetting himself with your cum before lining his cock up with your entrance.

You slowly lowered yourself onto him, basking in that familiar, heavenly stretch he always provided you with.

“Fuuuck.”

You weren’t sure which one of you had said it, too drunk off of the way he filled you to care.

His hands were still guiding you. Uppp and dowwwnnn, not quite letting you take the full thing just yet but still giving you plenty to keep you satisfied.

You watched his reaction to the way you rode him, smiled when you noticed his eyes starting to roll back. You were grinding against him, drawing out the prettiest sounds from him with your hands clasped behind his neck.

“You’re s’fucking…” he grunted, his words suddenly harder to get out. “tight… Jesus Christ, baby. You really didn’t fuck anyone else for 4 months, did you?”

It wasn’t like you had been trying to hide it, but it was still irritating that your body sold you out before you even had the chance to have that conversation with him.

You shook your head sheepishly, a faint warmth decorating your cheeks. “Didn’t -” he was pulling you down further this time, purposefully going deeper as he watched you struggle to form a proper setence. “Didn’t - want… t- to…”

“Didn’t want anyone else inside of you, huh?” His tone was breathy, condescending almost as he continued to maneuver you to his liking. “Didn’t want anyone else to fill up this tight fucking cunt besides me, is that it baby?”

You shook your head again, this time a bit more feverishly while he continued to force your weight down onto him. Your ass now smacking against his thighs with each pump into you.

“I -” you moaned, unable to hold it together the further down you went. “I just want you. O - only you.”

He kissed you, his tongue gently parting your lips as he slowly eased you down onto his length. “I love you.” He whispered.

You tried to say it back but it was lost entirely by the way he thrusted upward without warning and slammed every last blissful inch of himself into you.

Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix. You were a dizzy, pouty, leaky mess, looking at him with stars in your eyes as he smirked back at you. "You’re okay, baby. You can take it.”

He had you tilted at just the right angle, lined up beautifully with your g-spot. You were taking in all you could, hips hungrily rocking back and forth against him.

"You're doing so good. Just like that."

You were practically delirious, already teetering on the verge of climax when his thumb found your clit again, creating more featherlight circles and more delicious, hopeless yelps from you.

"Megumi," his name practically echoed across the room, your walls starting to smother him. "I - fuck, baby ‘m -" You tried to bury your face into his shoulder, but he wouldn't let you. His free hand was quickly under your chin, forcing your attention back on him.

"Look at me." his voice was low but thoughtful, his fingers still working relentlessly against you. "Let me fucking see it."

It was enough to break you. To have you suddenly spasming around him as you soaked him. He didn’t stop though no matter how much you squirmed against him. No matter how incredibly loud your cries became. He continued to stretch you, bullying himself into you while still teasing your clit until you were both absolutely shaking.

His lips crashed into yours, hand tangled back into your hair when you felt him start to twitch inside you, filling you up as he groaned against your mouth.

“I love you.” You whispered this time, earning an exhausted smile from him.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, admiring the mess he’d made out of you before kissing you again, lavishly this time as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

It was all so natural, so right. As if no time had passed at all between you two. And maybe you were biased because of where you were currently sitting, but his once rough edges looked pretty smooth from this angle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 10 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 10 OF THE MAIN STORY!!***

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

This update spans part 158 to part 191.

BAHAHAHAHAHA THEY'RE AT THE CORAL SEA (not "in" it yet, more like at the surface level of it) AND JAMIL'S ALREADY UPSET OVER THE LOCALE

Jamil comes up with the smart idea of using ice magic to make a boat for them all. Silver takes up the oars (how princely lmao) and Ortho praises the second years for being so reliable!

WEL;ANJFDBIUGSOGSBIAF THAT BOAT DIDN'T LAST LONG, LITERALLY ONLY A SINGLE PART BEFORE WE CAPSIZE????? We see a dark and gloomy place with an abandoned ship, similar to where Ariel was exploring in the opening of The Little Mermaid. The gang can breathe though, since Idia hacked in bubbles around each person to provide them with an air dome made of magic nanomachines.

THERE HE IS FELLAS, MERMAID FLOYD PULLED UP. Mmm, interesting?? He sounds really flat and bored, expressing that he no longer has an interest in land creatures since everyone was weak + so easily deceived by Azul. Floyd also seems to report that Azul has found success with Mostro Lounge...? And Jade is probably supporting him there.

Floyd tells us that he's been traveling Twisted Wonderland in his dream world. He's been to the Shaftlands (Fairest City??) to try out the latest fashion and model (but got bored because he was asked to work exclusively with the brand), worked part-time in a restaurant in the Sunshine Lands (but got bored because so many people wanted to eat his food), and exploring the Scalding Sands. Floyd wandered the desert and found a black magic lamp in the Cave of Wonders and decided to bring it home because Jade said "the teapot" would be nice to have. Floyd summoned the genie and used it to wish for delicious food, www

He mentions having plans to visit other places too, like the Queendom of Roses, Briar Valley, Sunset Savanna, etc. (Floyd's looking for a challenging opponent to fight!!) But now he has returned to the sea, even though he considers it boring too. Floyd basically tells them to fuck on off and then stares floating around depressingly.

Idia theorizes that Floyd must be "resetting" his dream again and again since Malleus has set the parameters to achieve a "happy ending". Since Floyd is constantly dissatisfied, the dream continues to scrounge for something that will please him. The happiness never really lasts long though. The group decides that they have to provide him with that strong foe he wants to shock him awake!

OH MY GOD Silver and Jamil just walk up to Floyd and tell him he’s in a dream. Of course he doesn’t believe them????? But then they start telling him stories of things that happened irl including clarifying what it was that Floyd had done to disrupt his own first year opening ceremony. Apparently he grabbed Riddle’s hair and went “oh, it’s bright red but it isn’t hot”, which led into a massive fight with Riddle shooting fire at him. The staff (specifically Vargas) had to hold Riddle back. There’s another story of how Floyd tried to fight Cater but Cater used his UM to hold Floyd back and bro wiped hard 💀 According to Idia, Malleus and Leona also beat Floyd in combat.

Jamil talks about how sometimes Floyd would find it hard to keep up with him and/or how Floyd would get in trouble for wailing on the younger kids in their club. The headmaster wasn’t happy and made Floyd clean up the gym for a week

Wh A t😭 Grim recalls how Octavinelle made us HOMELESS in book 3 (and then how they got their asses beat BUT I’M BAWLING AT THE AUDACITY)

The dream manifests a fake Jade and Azul to drag Floyd deeper… We finally get a non-OB octoform Azul to look at!!

They goad Floyd and say he shouldn’t lose to land creatures, so beat them back and then the three of them can live peacefully in the sea together. Silver warns Floyd not to listen to the fake Jade and Azul, but he ends up not needing their help??? Instead Floyd blows up at the fakes and claims Jade and Azul would never say such boring things. Like, he actively gets SO pissed off that they’re borrowing their faces and voices to try and deceive him 😭

They tell Floyd about what’s going down and he’s delighted??? He starts calling out locations and the dream responds to it, he thinks it’s so interesting. Idia and co. panic because this spike in activity could alert Malleus OTL

They theorize that Jade’s dream may take place in the mountains, so Floyd should change into a land form.

When they change to Jade’s dream, Floyd praises Silver’s UM. Silver is flattered but Jamil is thanking the stars that someone mindful like Silver has Meet in a Dream and not Floyd. He says Floyd would probably abuse the UM and give people nightmares lmao

Now they’re in a part of the Coral Sea that has tons of underwater volcanos. Floyd saves us all from a blast of black smoke from one of the vents. Idia warns the air domes are not strong, so one blast from the smoke could drown them all.

Floyd suggests Idia make merforms for everyone. However, Idia says it’s hard to do, especially on a short time frame, since he lacks data on merpeople.

OOOOOH Floyd reveals his bioluminescence!! Looks so pretty aaaaaaah ✨ (He calls it “counter illumination”?)

J WORD SiGHTING

OOOOOH I GET IT, the volcanic vents are like the sea’s equivalent of “mountains”. He and dream!Azul are exploring this area looking for a gold mine or something. Interesting that Jade dreams of still assisting Azul for fun…

sguaddr(dFacFFh ??!!\!]]!£]!] AZUL????? He got hit by a blast from the vent while casting magic on it to get to some gold ore he spotted. Jade gets a good laugh out of it.

WHO THE FuCK ARE yoU, WhY Sre your eyes SO Big AnD WAtERY

Azul tearfully declares he won’t give up and Jade gases him up 😭 YOUR DREAM IS TO BULLY AND ENABLE HIM??????? WOW J WORD

Floyd claims he would never go mountain climbing with Jade but then—

WhAT YHR fUVkinh FVkkkKKKKKKKKKK

THAT’S DREAM!FLOYD?????!!?!!! HE LOOKS SO FRIGHIn DERPY 😭 😭 😭 BRo JUST StARTS EATINg SHRIMP AnD HAPPILY GOING AlONG WiTH wHatEVEF JAde AsAyS

Floyd gets pissed off seeing all of this and goes in for the attack. Everyone panics, but Jamil pulls a Silver book 7 part 9 and basically tells them to let Floyd cook 💀

Dream!Azul of course tries to convince Jade that Floyd is dumb and cute and everything, not some THUG cbjssbkwebodnxsk Jade is convinced that “this” Azul and Jade would use useless without him so he buys dream!Azul’s lies. FLOYD GETS MORE ANGRY THRymRE GONNa BRaWLLLLLLL

Uhhhh so fighting doesn’t wake Jade up. Idia suggests this is because while Jade doesn’t have a particularly strong imagination, he’s good at exploring possible scenarios within himself…? Not sure if I totally understood the wording here (I’ll have to double check with other sources later), all you gotta know if that punching was ineffective. ***Edit: It’s because (according to Idia), Jade has a strong belief in himself.***

OH, WORM??? J WORD AnD FKOYD ArE mAKinG HISSING NoiSES At eaCH OYher As THEY FIGHT (the NPC Azul and Floyd are busy cowering in a corner) 🍿 I believe it was previously said in a voice line or some vignette that when the twins fight, they get VIOLENT and it’s kinda funny we get to see it on-screen now.

Sebek gets the idea to stop both of the twins’ movements with his UM. (Very thoughtfully, he warns everyone, particularly Ortho, to stand back before he casts Living Bolt.) It works very well because salt water conducts electricity better than distilled water!! I think that helps Jade with realizing something’s off because right when dream!Azul and Floyd rush to him, Jade points out that the real ones wouldn’t call him “cute” and such.

WHoa WHOA, sCARY hot

Aaaand we got two eels added to the party! Onward to Azul’s dream~ (jxbsksvxiwnw J WoRD THROWS uP)

We’re underwater again! Jade theorizes it must be because Azul has expanded the Mostro Lounge into a worldwide chain, since Azul has expressed the desire to run a successful restaurant business like his mother.

We hear cheering, it seems to be from a Coral Rush (underwater ball) game. It’s similar to Magical Shift, but instead of brooms you ride on the backs of dolphins. Coral Rush is popular among merfolk!

WhAT

If I was drinking something then I would be spitting it up right now because WhY IS AZUL AN ATHLETE (If I’m understanding this correctly, he’s playing for a Coral Rush team called Golden Trident? And he’s the LEADER) 😂 I guess maybe because he’s been insecure about this weakness of his…?

MAN. Jamil is going to bully his ass later about this, I just KNOW he is… Azul goes all chuuni and shouts “KRAKEN SHOT” before scoring 🪦 Cringefail bbg…

OH MY GOD THIS SHADY BITCH

Jade has “-san” in quotation marks 💀 HE’S BEING TOTALLY SARCASTIC

Fun little detail, it looks like the Octatrio had a group handshake…? Jade and Azul do it here and later Jade and Floyd do the same, ending it each time with a cute little “yaaay” 🥺

dndjsnkweneow Jade asks Azul to sign Idia’s tablet OTL YOU ASSHOLE BE SO FR RIGHT NOW

Azul remembers “Leech-kun” and “Leech-kun” (*shudders*) from elementary school. His team mates call out to him and Azul invites us to their victory celebration at his mother’s restaurant (which finally gets a name!!! It’s called La Grotta). Apparently it would be hard for your average student to get in, but with Azul’s invite we should be okay!

Jade starts brainstorming again and suggests that this dream is what we see because Azul wanted you to erase the sad past in which he was bullied. He says he won’t divulge too many details since it involves Azul’s privacy (aw, the ONE time he decides to not leak info 😂).

Aaaaah Idia says he has a bad feeling about something… which gives ME a bad feeling…

They arrive at La Grotta and Azul casts a spell that makes an anemone crop up on everyone’z head?! Azul says that anemones are the most formal hair accessory one can wear in the sea; it makes them “fit in” more. He leaves Jade and Floyd alone though since they’re already merfolk.

Uhhhh Grim gets distracted with dancing and drags Sebek off with him??? Okay???

The entire time this is going down, the twins are watching silently.

Grim, Sebek, and Ortho dance but they end up falling down. The mob merpeople start to laugh and make fun of land creatures. It’s then we learn that Azul lied about the sea anemone being associated with high status, it’s instead something that indicates stupidity. So… uh… He just wanted to bully us??? This whole dream is playing out like a bitter high school revenge fantasy…

Azul says the twins can stay if they play Coral Rush with him. Surely they’re tired of hanging around dumb land creatures right? It’s better to come along with him.

Floyd makes a mess and passes an antique to Jade, and the two start to “play” with it. (… Nah, they start breaking shit 😬)

LOL???? Is Azul threatening to sue the fins off of the twins??? He’s all like “MY PAPA’S A LAWYER YOU KNOW” at them… (He also calls his mom “mama”; the word choice and behavior really makes me think he’s a mama’s/daddy’s boy.)

Jade says to everyone that we should move onto the next dream. He pretends (?) to leave, which triggers a memory of book 3 where Azul declares that he’s always going to be alone.

HMMMMMMMMMMM, there’s no dream!Floyd or dream!Jade to lure Azul to the darkness, only the mermobs 🤔

Ortho expects the twins to dive after him, but neither of them do 🤡 They say it’s Azul’s choice to dream more deeply, so they’ll allow him to.

Grim drowns in the darkness so we (Yuu, Silver, Jamil, Sebek) go after him. Ortho tries to appeal to the twins by saying if they don’t follow, then they’ll be trapped in the dream forever. Sooo Jade and Floyd depart into the dark. Ortho is left wondering if this coldness is actually how the twins express trust.

LOLLLLLl???????? Azul’s setting the photo of their class trip on fire and laughing like a maniac… (He also has apparently gained Ramshackle AND stolen the UMs of his fellow dorm leaders.) I counted, Azul has no less than like 3-4 Evil Villain Laughs this update 💀 OKAY KING POP OFF LIVE LAUGH LOVE

They split into two groups (the player gets to go with J word 😳), each with the goal of taking out one of the dream!Tweels. Jamil lures dream!Floyd out to the basketball court under the false pretenses of a special club activity (where a strong merman opponent would be present).

Jade meanwhile goes to the botanical garden?? And he starts to smash plant pots… He claims it’s a dream so it’s okay! It’s not like he’s doing this because he wants to (lie). Jade makes (anemoned) Grim take a bunch of rare ingredients he “harvested” to Mostro Lounge.

Azul becomes interested in the ingredients and wants access to the source to maximize profits. Dream!Jade is led off by Grim and Yuu to the woods behind campus. SILBEK JUMP HIM—

Jade uses Shock the Heart to learn where Azul has moved the contracts. They weren’t in his office vault when the group checked earlier; the contracts are now in Azul’s room…? Which… I feel like that was such an obvious place to check, not sure why the thought didn’t occur to them sooner??

They find the contracts but there’s like 500 of them and no efficient way to destroy so many in a short amount of time. Ortho suggests his beam, but it might result in collateral damage to them if he fires it this close. Floyd says they can just trick Azul into destroying the contracts himself but before they can say anything more they hear voices getting closer.

Jade and Floyd return to Azul warning him that someone is after his contracts, so Azul, concerned, asks for the contracts so he can relocate them again. When they don’t, he starts threatening them (even saying that the headmaster is under his thumb too, no one at this school can oppose him).

Azul is baited to cast a spell at them, which Floyd deflects with Bind the Heart. He then summons anemones (Ace, Deuce, Riddle, Leona, Kalim, Idia) to help him. Some mob anemones called him “Azul-sama” in dead-sounding voices which. Makes me think maybe he stole Jamil’s Snake Whisper in the dream too??

Together, the twins keep taunting their dorm leader until Azul unleashes King’s Roar. They use Bind the Heart once again to redirect Leona’s UM and dust the contracts ✨ (We also got Floyd’s UM chant!! Roughly: “This is a nice place/it was just getting good, but how about I interrupt it?”)

NxdbsjsbkFAJHQAN OF COURSE THAT’A WHEN AzUL BREAks 😭 and it happens like automatically too… The loss of the contracts really is a sore spot for him.

Here comes the suspicious black gloop again~

Azul starts to sink down BUT THIS TIME YHE TWINS CALL OUT HIS NAME AND GRAB ONTO HIM?????? Jade even specifically tells Azul to “take his hand” and instructs Floyd to help pull. Ayo… the “take my hand” imagery again…

Waaah… Octavinelle trusts each other so much?? When Silver warns them that he doesn’t know what will happen to the twins if they end up in Azul’s abyss, Jade and Floyd wish Azul luck/don’t go to hell AND AZUL’s CASUALLy LIKE “you too” 🤡

Azul finally faces his OB self!! How interesting, he tells his OB that with the weight of all that he stole from others, it’s hard to move. I think he means that metaphorically… like, it’s hard to achieve personal growth if all you do is take and hurt people. “Unlike you, I’ve learned.” He wants to make his dream of making everyone bow down to him a reality on his own. Azul’s not satisfied with this, he wants something of “real value”.

Azul wakes up back in his mom’s restaurant and surrounded by his team members. He asks them to sign a contract which states they will all continue playing hard together. Duh, it’s a trap and actually anemones them. The contract just handed all their powers over to Azul 💀 Bro… How dumb are you, you didn’t even SKIM to check the terms of the contact are what to claimed them to be??

Azul regroups with the others and they inform him of what’s going on. He immediately expresses concern that the Mostro Lounge hasn’t been operating + the ingredients in their fridge might spoil because of Malleus’s magic. Man has his priorities www Thankfully they’re fine since the flow of time has stopped and potential customers are all sleeping. No ingredients or business lost!! Azul still wants Malleus to pay him back for the inconveniences though.

Ortho recommends that Jade and Floyd stay behind, as they both have taken significant damage from fighting. Idia adds that they should lower the number of people dream hopping to minimize the chance of bugs showing up; Jamil volunteers. Azul says it’s a shame because he was looking forward to fighting alongside him; Jamil says that “friends” with Octavinelle’s dorm leader has its uses, so he “looks forward to it.”

… Jamil acknowledging what Azul wants and agreeing to go along with it feels… weird…

Azul joins us and we hasten to the next dream. “Time is money!!” so chop, chop!! Next update… Savanaclaw!!

Overall, I really enjoyed seeing the twins fight, as well as seeing their more animalistic aspects (ie the bioluminescence) come out. The Coral Sea locations were so fun and colorful, it makes me want a hometown event even more!! Merform Azul we kiiiind of already saw with his OB form (and I’d seen lots of edits from fans making their own prior to this) but I thought it was nice to have that confirmation nevertheless.

There were a lot of small moments that made me do a double take (derpy dream!Floyd is one, Azul’s Big Bad scenes were several others). It was cute to see their Club Wear outfits utilized in the dreams too; we saw Basketball Club and Mountain Lovers Club looks make an appearance. I felt like I was watching some kind of variety show while reading.

This update gave me many thoughts, most of them surrounding the Octatrio and their relationship with one another. I’d like to talk more at length about their dream worlds and the roles they played in one another’s headspaces. However, that will get very bulky and I don’t want to add even more to an already bully post. I’ll make that a separate post and put it up later, so please bear with me ^^

[steddieas-shegoes]

Chapter 3

of  this post /  Chapter 2 / read it all on ao3 Here

Steve was warm.

He was also naked in a bath that belonged to Eddie.

It was a nice bath, much larger than the one he and Robin rarely used, and full of bubbles that smelled like peppermint.

Eddie told him it would help keep him awake, but also help him stay relaxed.

He was right.

He was also currently making Steve a grilled cheese (his favorite) and letting him listen to music through his phone speaker (his relaxing playlist that he used for his paperwork hours at home). He’d made sure the bath was hot, but not scalding the way Steve usually had it. He didn’t leave the room until Steve was laying in the bath, head resting against the towel Eddie set up along the edge, eyes closed to keep his senses dulled. According to Eddie, that was really important.

He’d lit a few candles and kept them on the side of the sink, then shut off the light before leaving to make Steve’s sandwich.

Steve was still completely unable to speak.

That was more than a little unnerving.

He knew what he needed and wanted to say, but nothing came out.

But he trusted Eddie for some reason. He’d unpack that later.

Maybe.

Probably not.

For a guidance counselor, he wasn’t that great at giving himself guidance. Or counseling.

“Stevie?”

“Hm?”

Hey! Progress! He made a noise!

“Got your sandwich,” Eddie held up the plate and smiled at Steve, who had opened his eyes, but hadn’t bothered to lift his head from where it rested against the back of the tub. He was too comfy. “You wanna dry your hands so you can eat?”

He wanted to eat, but he certainly didn’t want to move. His hands were so warm in the water. If he took them out of the bath they’d be cold and probably pruned, which was not attractive.

Not that it mattered if he was attractive, but he didn’t want Eddie to have anything else to add to the list he’d titled ‘Why Steve Harrington Is Not A Catch.’

“Sunshine, you have to eat something.”

Steve sighed. He blinked at Eddie in hopes that he would understand what he was trying to say.

Eddie sat down on the floor next to the tub and lifted the sandwich up to Steve’s mouth.

That wasn’t what Steve was trying to say, but he couldn’t really argue since he was still apparently nonverbal.

Eddie had briefly explained that that happened a lot during subspace, and sometimes it happened during a drop.

Steve took a bite of the sandwich and groaned.

It was good.

Or maybe he was just really hungry.

Either way, he leaned in to take another bite before he’d even finished chewing the first. He didn’t even care if it was disgusting or rude, he just needed to eat.

“Good boy. But don’t eat too fast, sunshine. Don’t want you to feel sick.”

“Mhm.”

Steve relaxed again, letting Eddie hold the sandwich up to his mouth to take a bite every minute or so.

It was nice. Too nice.

Steve had never been taken care of like this. Even when he was with Nancy, she would usually leave him alone when he was sick or tired, not wanting to expend the energy it takes to get him through an illness or exhaustion.

He was a little needy sometimes. He covered it up well after Nancy, not wanting anyone, not even Robin, to know he sometimes needed someone to care for him.

He hadn’t even noticed he drifted off again until Eddie was running his fingers through his barely wet hair.

“C’mon sunshine. Water’s getting too cold. Gotta get you in bed.”

And then he was in what he assumed was Eddie’s bed in what he assumed were Eddie’s clothes in what he assumed was big trouble.

He let himself feel safe.

He hadn’t felt safe in a long time.

– – – – – – – – – –

When he woke up, he was alone.

He was used to being alone.

In fact, a part of his brain told himself he would have been more worried if he wasn’t alone.

But he wasn’t in his bed, which meant at some point very recently he wasn’t alone.

And then it all came rushing back to him.

This was Eddie’s bed. Eddie, the tattoo artist he barely knew, who helped him through whatever the fuck he went through yesterday.

He turned onto his side and nearly fell out of bed when he saw that he wasn’t alone. Eddie was asleep, body curled up facing Steve, but keeping some distance between them. His breathing was slow and quiet, and his body looked relaxed despite the uncomfortable looking position he was in.

Steve watched as Eddie slept, thinking through the events of the night before.

Eddie had known what to do, what he needed, and how to make sure he got it even when he couldn’t speak. He hadn’t taken advantage of him, even though it would have been easy to do with Steve so out of it.

Eddie let out a snore and Steve couldn’t help the endeared smile that crossed his face.

Nope, you stop that right the fuck now, Steven Harrington.

He was about to slap himself in the face to prevent himself from actually having feelings when Eddie’s eyes shot open.

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Eddie smiled, and Steve was definitely in trouble.

“Hey, sunshine.”

“Um. Hi.”

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can get dressed.”

Steve started to sit up, but Eddie reached his hand out to stop him.

“No rush. Seriously, take your time. I don’t have to be at the shop until 12 today.”

Which reminded Steve that it was Sunday, he had nowhere to be, and he was currently very cozy. Maybe he could stay for a little while. Just until he was more awake.

“I don’t wanna take up more of your time. You’ve done enough I think.”

“It’s fine, Steve.” Steve felt himself make a face at the name and Eddie’s brows furrowed. “What?”

“I dunno. Just used to you saying Stevie or Sunshine.”

Eddie smirked at him and Steve felt his stomach drop. Where it dropped to, he didn’t know, and he didn’t think he would ever find it again with the way he felt completely hollowed out.

“It’s just as much for me as it is for you, Stevie. That was pretty intense last night.”

His tone was serious, but he kept a soft smile on his face, probably to make sure Steve didn’t run away without talking about some of it.

“Yeah. I’m sorry about everything. I really wouldn’t have even gotten a tattoo if I thought that would happen.”

“Nothing to apologize for. You can’t control it. How would you have known it would happen?” Eddie raised one brow as if to dare Steve to argue. “Exactly. You didn’t know. I’m glad I was around to help. Hate to think what could’ve happened if it was someone else.”

And, yeah, Steve was worried about that now too. Eddie seemed to know a lot about this, so Steve took this opportunity to ask some questions. He certainly couldn’t ask Robin.

It was a long conversation, and Eddie never talked to him like he was stupid. He was patient and kind, and was honest if he didn’t know the answer to something. He occasionally reached out to brush some of Steve’s hair out of his face or squeeze his hand if he seemed like he couldn’t figure out how to phrase something, bringing him back to the present and keeping his thoughts in order.

They went over how he could prepare for it next time, but Steve said he probably wouldn’t be getting another tattoo anytime soon.

Eddie said he would prefer that he come to him if he did or at least have someone who could help him through it if he went somewhere else.

“So, before the drop…” Steve stopped. He didn’t know what he wanted to say. Well, he did, but he didn’t know if actually wanted to say it out loud.

Eddie looked at him expectantly, an encouraging smile pointed at Steve in a way he couldn’t resist.

“Before the drop. I really felt…good. Like I was untouchable and nothing bad could happen. Is that always like that? The subspace thing?”

“I’ve never experienced subspace. I mean, I’ve tried a couple times when I first started messing around with people, but it just didn’t happen for me. But I’ve been with plenty of subs when they’re floating and they describe it like that, yeah. Like you can feel everything and nothing at once, but everything is good. It’s a high you can’t even get from drugs. Which is why the crash from it can be so fucking awful.”

It still didn’t make sense how Steve got to this point, how he had ever reached that high from needles pressing into his skin and Eddie being nice to him, and how he’d fallen so far so fast.

But what Eddie said was exactly how he’d felt the night before. He wasn’t really able to put it into words like Eddie had.

“So will I always drop if I end up there again?”

“Not if you’re with the right person and you can figure out limits and what causes it for you. Everyone is different. For you, it seems like pain might do it, but you would have to be in the right mindset to get there no matter what.”

“I wasn’t really in any type of mindset last night.”

“Maybe it didn’t seem like it. But it’s hard to really know when you weren’t expecting it.”

Steve bit his lip. How could he have not known? How did he make it to 27 years old not having a clue?

“Hey.” Eddie’s thumb rubbed against his bottom lip, pulling it away from his teeth. “You didn’t know. It’s normal for a lot of people to never know. If you weren’t into the scene before, how would you know? But now you do. And now you just have to be careful in the future. I don’t want anyone to hurt you.”

Steve was gonna die right here in Eddie’s bed. Who the fuck just says shit like that? His heart skipped a beat like in those stupid romance books Nancy used to read.

How dumb.

“Is pouting your natural state?”

Steve pouted harder, bottom lip pushing out as far as he possibly could just to be ridiculous.

It was worth being and feeling ridiculous to hear Eddie’s laugh.

“Listen, I know I just threw a lot at you and you may have more questions. You’ve got my number on that tattoo care sheet, so make sure you call me or text me if you have any questions, okay? And if you want another tattoo and don’t feel comfortable going somewhere else, I’m happy to do it all over again, hopefully without the drop this time.”

“What if I wanted to float again? Without the tattoo.”

Steve should shut his mouth. He really should shut his fucking mouth.

Eddie searched his face, much like he did the night before. What the hell was he looking for?

He glanced behind Steve for a moment and then back at him.

“I’ve gotta get up and get ready. But we have to have a really big talk before I can agree to that.” Steve felt his own face fall, but Eddie quickly continued. “Not because I don’t want to, sunshine. I think you’re at the part of the post-high feeling where you wanna reach it again right away. That can be really bad for you and for me, okay? But I’m done at 7 tonight. You busy?”

Steve was never busy on the weekends unless Robin was dragging him to a club and he’d be damned if he tried to go to a club instead of being with Eddie.

Which is another thing he probably should start unpacking very soon.

“No. I have work at 7:30 in the morning though.”

“Ah, right. Guidance counselor.” Eddie smirked. “Nothing’s gonna happen tonight except talking. You could also…bring stuff to spend the night here if you want.”

Eddie seemed incredibly nervous to even suggest it, and maybe if it was anyone else, Steve would’ve laughed and ran out the door, never to look back at the batshit insane person trying to have him spend the night within 24 hours of knowing him.

But Steve thought about how well he slept in Eddie’s bed with Eddie last night, and he thought about how his bed was pretty lonely, and how maybe waking up here again would make him feel better about having to exist on Monday.

“Yeah. I could do that.”

Eddie’s answering smile was nothing short of blinding.

“Great! Okay. Let’s head on back to the shop so you can get your car. Is Robin home?”

“Probably. She’s probably waiting to see my name on the news with the headline “Dead Body of Idiot Man Trying To Get First Tattoo Found” and a picture of me from the yearbook.”

Eddie let out a loud laugh.

It was nice.

Usually, Steve got annoyed when people laughed so loudly, but Eddie’s was nice.

Eddie was nice.

“So. 7?”

“Yeah, sunshine.”

— — — — — — — — — —

Eddie didn’t let Steve stray far while they got ready to leave.

Steve would never admit how much he loved it.

During the drive back to the shop, Eddie played music Steve had never heard, and probably never would have if not for him. He didn’t exactly like it, but he didn’t mind it, especially when he watched Eddie sing along with a passion Steve hadn’t really ever felt.

They didn’t need to talk and Steve didn’t feel pressured to try.

He hadn’t felt so comfortable around someone since he first met Robin, and he was holding onto the panic he knew was coming when he was alone.

He was still feeling tired. His emotions had been on a hell of a journey over the last 18 hours, and Eddie had already warned him he probably would be feeling the effects of it all for another day or so.

But Eddie also explained that without the drop, it’s worth it.

He wanted to know what that felt like.

And he wanted to know what it felt like with Eddie.

So when they arrived at the shop and said goodbye, Eddie hugged him tightly, holding him against his chest. Steve wasn’t much shorter than him, but he managed to fold himself into him without being uncomfortable, resting his face against his collarbone and breathing in the scent he was already addicted to.

They separated, but neither seemed ready or willing to.

Did Eddie feel this pull the way Steve did? Was Steve just attaching himself to someone who helped him through his most vulnerable time?

As he walked away, he looked over his shoulder to find Eddie staring after him, keeping eyes on him as he walked to his car. He was frowning.

Maybe he did feel as much as Steve. 

Chapter 4

TAG LIST:  @invisibleflame812 @inmoonywetrust @captain-daryn @carlyv @lillemilly @spectrum-spectre @raisedbylibrarians @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @mightbeasleep @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @bornonthesavage @loguine-linguine

[trickphotography2]

'tis the damn season | Chapter 3

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 6.7K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 2 | Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 3

“Lookin’ good, cowboy!” Shayla called, phone held up as Jake cantered back to the barn. The mare he was riding - Starlight - tossed her head, and he couldn’t help but smile. It’d been too long since he’d been in the saddle. 

“I didn’t think you’d be up,” he replied, gently tugging the reins to stop Starlight beside her. 

“Your mom was vacuuming the hallway,” she shrugged. He chuckled - he’d been wondering how long Mama would let her sleep in until 10:00AM before getting her out of bed. Apparently, guest privileges lasted two days. Shay stepped back, panning the camera to follow him as he dismounted, patting the horse’s neck before taking her bridle and leading her back into the barn. When he glanced over his shoulder, she was still filming. At his raised eyebrow, she giggled. “Sorry, you’re just so fucking sexy. This is gonna get a ton of views.” Facing forward, he clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything. Leading Starlight into her stall, he removed her tack and gave her a quick brush before tossing a blanket over her back. Shayla stopped him when he moved to get a treat from the feed barrel. “Can I?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, retrieving a carrot and handing it to her. She shoved the phone into his hands and looked at him expectantly until he lifted it to film her feeding the horse. As soon as it was gone, she spun towards him and threw her arms around him, pressing her lips to his. Jake kissed her back, willing himself to feel something as her tongue traced his lips. Her hands fell to his waist, slipping into his jacket and tugging his shirt from his jeans. “Shay,” he said, catching her hands.

“Come on, Jakey,” she cooed. “I miss you.” 

“I - ”

“Jacob THOMAS Seresin!” Jumping back as though he’d been scalded, he turned to see his mother standing in the doorway, hands on her hips and green eyes flashing. 

“Ma’am?” he frowned, watching as her eyes shot to Shayla and her scowl deepened. 

“Do you have something to tell me?” 

“Ma’am?” he repeated. 

“Do you. Have. Something. To tell. Me.” He glanced at Shay, who gave him a shy smile. 

“Uh…” 

“I’d like you to explain to me, young man, how it is right for a mother to find out that her baby is having a baby on the internet. Why did I get a text from Betty, whose daughter found it on TikTok, instead of hearing it from you? Hm?” 

Jake whipped around to scowl at Shayla, stepping back from her. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“I… may have dropped a hint in the last video. It was just us getting here.” He ran a hand down his face, remembering how she’d filmed herself with her hand on her stomach in the car. Turning to face his mother, she said, “Sorry to have you find out this way, but surprise! Looks like you have two grandbabies on the way!” 

Taking a deep breath, his mother closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. After a moment, she squared her shoulders and pinned them with a heavy gaze. “I’m happy for you, but you need to tell your father before he finds out this way. We deserved to hear it from you directly, not from some video about you coming into our home and sneaking around with the news.” 

“Yes, Ma’am. We’ll do that right now.” Jake sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Mama.” She stared at her youngest son, her face the picture of disappointment, before nodding and spinning on her heel, leaving the barn. When she was out of sight, he reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his phone.

“Ja - ”

“Stop. You’ve already made this bad enough,” he cut Shayla off while pulling up her account and looking at the newest post. She’d done a voiceover explaining that they were visiting his family to share some exciting news and had filmed herself standing behind his family. He watched as she collected eggs with his mother, when his father had taken her on a tour of the milking barn, and Ally and Will exercising one of the horses on the walker. In each clip, she had her back to them, her hand on her stomach, and winked at the camera. “Did you even ask them if they were okay with being in your video?” Jake demanded. 

Her silence spoke volumes, and he glanced at the stats. It already had over ten thousand views and hundreds of likes and comments. “I’m sure they don’t - ”

“My family is off limits,” he snapped. Without another word, he stormed out of the barn. The cold air cooled his flushed face, and he pulled off the Longhorns hat he’d found in the back of his closet to run a hand through his hair. “Fuck!” he growled, throwing the cap onto the ground in a moment of frustration. After snatching it up and dusting it off, he folded the bill, slipped it into his back pocket, and headed toward the milking barn where he’d helped Pops and Will drive the herd. After swapping his shoes for wellies, he stepped inside. 

“ - Alright, I’ll be there in a bit,” he heard his father say, frowning as he spoke into his phone. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out.” Jake glanced at Will, who raised an eyebrow. 

“Everything alright?” Will asked as soon as he hung up. Bill Senior glanced at his sons, gaze lingering on Jake momentarily before nodding.

“Need to head into town for a bit. You two able to take care of all this?” he asked, motioning to the cows. Will nodded, raising an eyebrow - their father was always supervising milking, only taking a day off when their mother forced him to stay in bed sick. With a firm nod at his sons, Bill headed out.

“Sir, can… I need to tell you something,” Jake said, hurrying after him after trading a look with his brother.

“Make it quick, son.” Standing before his father, Jake suddenly felt like he was 16 again, telling him he wanted to join the Navy instead of following the family farming tradition. 

“Sir… Pops…” Bill pressed his lips together and glanced at his watch. Taking a steeling breath, Jake straightened his shoulders. “Shayla’s pregnant. I…I’m going to be a father.” 

The older man wasn’t expecting that. His eyebrows shot up, and his mouth fell open. The two stared at one another for a long moment before Bill smiled and pulled his son in for a hug. “Congratulations, Jacob. I’m happy for you.” 

It was on the tip of Jake’s tongue to admit his fear. He was worried that he would never feel for Shay the way that Pops felt for Mama. That he would be a horrible dad. That he would screw up his kid by trying to force himself to fall in love with their mother. But instead, he simply hugged his father back, clearing his throat before saying, “Thanks.”

Julie forced herself not to turn and investigate the screeching noise, instead continuing work on her batches of buttercream frosting. Taking a deep breath, she checked the consistency. She tried not to panic at how much her oven going out was throwing off her carefully created schedule to complete the massive order for the mayor’s Christmas Eve party. 

By this time, she should have already had nine pans of macarons cooling and another two baking. The morning had started normal enough - she’d taken the day off of work but was up at 4:00AM to bring her ingredients to room temperature and get through some emails. A bride she was working with for a mid-January wedding was debating her flavor choices again. Julie hoped she didn’t need to add updating a contract to the list of tasks.

The first few hours were spent prepping and portioning out her ingredients. The mayor had asked her to make 8 heart shaped cakes (one for every year they’d been in office) as well as party favors - about 300 macarons in assorted flavors in small boxes, as well as 100 cupcakes and a cookie decorating set to keep the kids entertained. With a day and a half to get everything done, it shouldn’t have been a problem, especially with the plan of getting up early and staying up late. It was her last big order before calling it for Christmas baking. 

That was until her oven started acting up. It had taken forever to heat up yesterday, and the first cake had been undercooked and tasted sour. After checking her ingredients and confirming that everything was still fresh, she had a sinking feeling when her oven turned off.

A muttered curse followed a bang, and she turned to see Bill Seresin scowling at the back of the oven. When their eyes met, she panicked - those warm, familiar brown eyes were hesitant. Turning off the mixer, she turned to face him fully. “I’m afraid to say it, but you need a new oven.” 

“What? No! It’s… it’s just acting up, right?” Julie said, stepping closer and placing a hand on the cold stovetop. “There’s a loose connection or something. Has to be.”

“I’ve taken this thing apart, and I’m not seeing it. You can call Joey to take a peek, but from the looks of it, this thing’s ready for the scrap pile. I’m surprised it lasted this long.” 

“No, no, no, no, no.” Dropping her head into her hands, Julie felt tears prick in her eyes. She could not get an oven purchased and delivered to meet the deadline. She would have to call the mayor, apologize profusely, and refund her the total cost. And be out the cost of ingredients and a new oven.

There was a shuffling noise, and Mr. Seresin pulled her into his arms. “It’s alright, honey. We’ll get this figured out. I’ll have the boys haul this out, and we can head to the store this afternoon to get you a new one.”

Julie mentally ran through the calculations. Financially, her bank account could handle the unexpected expense. But even if they could get Jake and Will here to haul it out right away, it would be a three-hour round-trip drive to the nearest appliance store. If they had the oven she wanted in stock - a big IF - getting it back and installed would take even longer. And then there were the practicalities of breaking in a new oven - learning the hot spots, figuring out if the display temperature was the actual temperature, the timing, etc. “Even if I get a new oven, I’ll still be too far behind schedule,” she huffed, forcing herself to straighten. 

“Alright. Pack up your stuff. I’ll let Kerry know that we’re on our way.” 

“What?” 

“You need a kitchen, and we’ve got one. You get to gatherin’, and I’ll let Kerry know we’re on the way.”

“I… it’s not that simple,” Julie said, glancing around her kitchen. The idea of packing up everything and moving to another location was…And even then, she would need to figure out the nuances of the Seresin’s oven.

“Julie, you either bake at the ranch or call the mayor. What are you going to do?” 

“Jake, Will - go help your father,” Kerry said, glancing out the kitchen window to see her husband pulling into the driveway. Jake glanced up from his lunch and frowned. 

“What’s he need help with?”

“Carrying things in. Now go.” Both men pushed away from the table at their mother's brisk tone and wiped their mouths on their napkins. Shayla glanced up from her phone momentarily before scrolling her comments. Jake caught Mama’s irritated look - she hated phones at the table. After slipping their shoes back on, they descended the steps just as he pulled to a stop.

“Good. Hurry up and get this stuff inside,” he said, opening his door. 

“Need to go to the barn?” Will asked. 

“Kitchen. Put the bowls in the fridge and everything else on the counter.” The brothers shared a look and circled the truck to see the back seat stuffed with boxes and bags. 

“What the hell is this?” Jake asked. 

“Julie’s comin’ to use the kitchen. She had to run to the store to get more stuff, and I told her we’d set this up for her by the time she got here. So quit yapping and get movin’.”

“And she needs all this?” Bill and Will shared a look before shoving a box of cookie sheets into Jake’s arms. “I’m missing something.”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Will muttered. “Julie’s a baker.”

“Since when?”

“What part of quit yappin’ and get movin’ didn’t you understand, Jacob?” His father snapped, adjusting his grip on a tote containing a mixer and another with some other machine. Flushed, Jake turned and walked back into the house. His mother was already wiping down the counters.

“Put that right there. Julie’ll get everything where she wants it when she gets here.”

“Since when is Cece a baker? I thought she worked at the bank.”

“She does both,” Mama replied, peeking into the box when he set it down. When he was about to ask another question, Pops entered the kitchen and nodded.

“There’s more that needs to come in.” Dismissed, Jake went back outside and completed an additional three trips. 

“Is she moving in?” Shayla asked, smirking at the bags and boxes currently cluttering the kitchen. 

“If that’s what she needs to do, then absolutely,” Mama said, glancing at her. Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Shay stood and yawned before putting a hand on her stomach. 

“I’m gonna go take a nap. The baby’s making me tired.” She cast an expectant look at Jake, who glanced at his parents. When Shay took his hand, he let himself be led upstairs to the guest bedroom. 

“You feelin’ okay?” Jake asked while shutting the door behind him. “Other than tired, I mean.” It dawned on him that he hadn’t asked her how she was feeling with the pregnancy. 

“Ugh, I’m just ready to go home,” she replied, flinging herself onto the bed. “I miss my comfy blankets.” Pushing away the surge of irritation at her insulting his mother’s quilting, he crossed the room and sat beside her. Hesitantly, he reached out to put his hand on her still-flat stomach. It was crazy to think that in 7 months, there would be a little them. Shayla’s hand covered his, and his eyes rose to meet hers. 

“Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

“A girl. You?” He shrugged, thumb lightly stroking. 

“There hasn’t been a Seresin girl in a couple of generations, so the odds are it’s a boy.” 

“Well, if that’s true,” she said coyly, running her fingers along his leg and sitting up. Her nose brushed his cheek before whispering, “I guess we’ll have to keep trying until we have a little girl.” Shayla kissed him, licking into his mouth as her fingers traced his cock through his jeans. When she tried to undo the button, he stopped her. She pouted while pulling back. “Jakey!”

“Not at my parent’s house.”

“But it’s been forever!” she whined. And she was right. They hadn’t slept together since the night of the Halloween party. As determined as he was to ensure they worked things out for their kid, he found it hard to forgive her for making out with someone else. She’d assured him that it was just a drunken accident, but he was struggling to move past it. 

“Not at my parent’s house,” he repeated. Standing, he moved to the window to shut the blinds, glancing down at the driveway. He watched as Cece pulled up, and his mother walked out to greet her. As soon as the car door was closed, Mama took her hands and squeezed them. 

Cece frowned and then smiled at whatever Mama said, shaking her head. Jake recognized the concern on his mother’s face as she reached up to brush a strand of hair behind Cece’s ear before cupping her face and saying something. The younger woman nodded and allowed herself to be pulled into a hug. 

“Come lay down with me, at least,” Shayla huffed. Reluctantly, Jake closed the blinds and laid down beside his fiancee, closing his eyes and thinking about the future. 

“Julie Louise Ryan!” Pops yelled as they sat around the dining room table waiting. Ally smirked at Will before quickly sipping her water to hide it. Jake lifted a hand to cover his mouth, exchanging a look with Mama. 

“Sorry,” Cece apologized, stepping out of the kitchen. “Just needed to get the cakes in the fridge.” The only open seat was between Shayla and Pops, and she quickly dropped into it. A smile tugged at Pop’s mouth as he nodded and clasped his hands, bowing his head. Everyone followed suit.

“Heavenly Father, we thank thee for this food we are about to receive to nourish and strengthen our bodies. We thank thee for our family seated around this table and for another day on this blessed land. We ask for a special blessing for Julie as she works tonight. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.” Everyone echoed the amen. Opening his eyes, Pops reached over and covered Julie’s hand, squeezing gently before nodding at Mama. She took the platter of roast beef she’d made in the crockpot to ensure that the oven was open all afternoon for Julie and passed it to Will. 

“How’s it going?” Ally asked, reaching for the dish of cooked carrots.

“I’m still behind schedule, but the cupcakes are done, and I’ve got three more cakes to do. The cookies and macarons will be the worst,” Cece replied, handing the salad bowl to Shayla. 

“Can we help?” Mama asked.

“No, I’ll get it. I just need to figure out the system for the macrons since they’re the most temperamental. It’ll be a lot of trial and error, but I grabbed more almond flour on my way over, so at least I’ll have that.” 

“Well, you’ve got plenty of taste testers,” Will added. “I still have dreams about that bourbon bacon cake you made for my birthday.” Cece smiled and accepted the roast beef Pops handed her, spearing some onto her plate. 

“Thankfully, there’s nothing that fancy this time. Just doing gingerbread, cranberry, peppermint, and eggnog.”

“If you want, I could include you in one of my videos. Maybe get you some more attention outside of here,” Shayla offered. “I’d just want to get a couple of shots of myself helping you with something. Maybe frosting one of the cakes?” 

“Oh.” Cece glanced at Jake, who raised an eyebrow at Shayla’s unexpected offer. “That’s…that’s generous, but I’m good. I…uh… film for my own account.”

“How many followers do you have?” Shay asked as Jake’s eyebrows shot higher. Beside him, Will nudged him to pass the mashed potatoes. 

“Four hundred thousand, last I checked.” Smiling a bit more pointedly, Shayla chuckled.

“I remember when I had that many. I’m at 3 million or so. If we collab, I’d tag you so my followers could find you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Stay up with me for a 22-hour workday! Between my day job and baking - ” Jake tapped his phone screen as Cece’s video looped, pausing it as she buried her face in her hands while leaning on the kitchen counter. He’d been scrolling her page for about an hour, working backward through her content.

He was impressed and exhausted just watching her. A lot of her videos documented going from her job at the bank right into the kitchen and ending with her in the car for a delivery. It was clear why she was always busy - Cece was talented. Jake had never been interested in watching cooking videos. Still, he was glued to the screen, watching her smoothing icing, decorating, and pouring ganache into bowls. There were also a couple of brand partnership videos. 

But it was the video announcing Mr. Ryan’s death that broke his heart. Jake had watched it three times. There were clips of them working together in the kitchen, her father helping her package her treats, tasting flavors, and bandaging up her finger when she sliced it with a knife. And then Cece was alone, sitting on the floor next to the oven with her back against the cabinets as she sobbed. “My daddy always told me that I needed to start living for myself, so that’s what I’m gonna do,” she said in a voiceover while breaking a peanut butter cookie in half and popping it into her mouth. “I promised him that I’d follow my own dreams for once, so I’m putting it out into the universe that I’ll be a full-time home baker one day. Hell, maybe I’ll have my own bakery.” 

Sighing, he set the phone on his chest and ran a hand down his face. When Mama had called to let him know about Mr. Ryan, Jake had almost picked up the phone and called Cece. But after nearly seven years without talking - only exchanging ‘Happy birthday’ messages on social media - calling out of the blue seemed like a lot. Especially when she was mourning. The family had ensured he knew how Mr. Ryan was doing, and he wasn’t surprised when Cece moved back to Magnolia. As much as he loved her life in Austin, she was a daddy’s girl through and through. She never would have let him go through treatment alone.

Jake reached for his water glass and frowned at finding it empty. Shit. Knowing that Cece was still working, he debated calling it a night but was still wide awake and thirsty. Grabbing his shirt from the dresser, he crept into the hallway. Light shone from Shayla’s doorway, and he quickly darted past it to the stairs, hoping to avoid another confrontation after sending her back to the room earlier in the evening.

“Shit, god damn, motherfucker,” Cece hissed, setting another tray of macaron shells onto the countertop. Her head whipped up when she heard Jake snort, a blush creeping across her cheeks. “Don’t tell your Pops.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it. He’d wash your mouth out with soap,” he chuckled, walking to the refrigerator. It was filled with wrapped-up cake layers, chilling bowls of filling, and cupcakes. Turning, he glanced at the counters covered with unbaked trays. He could see her phone set up on a tripod, recording her as she worked. “I’d ask how it’s going, but I get the feeling it’s not good.”

“Nope,” she replied, tugging the pot holder from her hand and running her fingers through her hair before turning off the camera. “I’m on my sixth tray of these and can’t get the fuckin’ oven figured out.” 

“What’s the issue?” he asked, glancing at the tray of cracked white cookies before her. 

“It’s too hot, and there’s a hot spot in one of the corners.” Picking up one of the cookies, she turned it over and glared. “It doesn’t even have even feet.”

“Feet?” 

“The shells rise a little bit when they bake.” Tossing the shell back onto the tray with a huff, she turned to the oven and lowered the temperature. Jake snagged one of the overbaked cookies and ate it.

“’Face good, dough,” he said, breathing out steam as he burned his mouth. Cece raised an eyebrow at him and smirked as he chugged half of his water. “Damn, that was hot.” 

“Overcooked and straight out of the oven. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Seresin.” 

“You know better than to put something you made in front of me and not expect me to try it,” he shot back. She rolled her eyes and walked to the sink to wash her hands, drying them on the towel thrown over her shoulder. 

“At least try something that’s not burnt,” she prompted, grabbing a plate with cake scraps. Jake cocked an eyebrow and took a piece of the brown cake, groaning at the rich gingerbread taste, making her grin. 

“Jesus, Cece, this is great.”

“Thanks. I had some extra gingerbread cupcakes, so I figured I’d decorate those for your parents as a thank you for letting me take over the kitchen today.”

“I think my parents would agree with me when I say you don’t have to do that, and you should focus on your order so you can get some sleep.” 

“I’ll sleep tomorrow after I deliver this,” she shrugged, setting the plate down and lightly running a finger over one of the uncooked macaron shells. Apparently satisfied, Cece nodded and opened the oven, peering inside. “Okay, let’s hope tray seven is a winner.” After sliding it onto the rack and setting a timer for 13 minutes, she turned to face him, glancing at her camera. “Do you mind if I… I’ll keep you out of the frame and edit you out.” 

“Yeah, sure.” She nodded and repositioned the tripod before picking up an icing bag. Jake watched as she piped wreaths onto five of the smooth, white tops of the cupcakes in individual boxes before picking up a pair of tweezers and placing sprinkles. The timer went off while she was working on the third one.

“I’ll get it,” he offered, grabbing the pot holder and quickly shutting off the alarm. Making sure the hot tray wasn’t close enough to burn her, he held it out and watched her scowl. “No?”

“Better, but still not it. Would you mind dropping the temp another 5 degrees?” Setting the tray down, he did as she asked and sat on one of the kitchen stools to watch her. Cece looked up at him through her lashes as she resumed decorating. “What?”

“Nothin’. Just… I didn’t realize that you were doin’ this.” 

“Baking?”

“As a business.” At her shrug, he sighed and motioned to the phone. “And the whole… How long have you wanted to do this?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a baker.” When he let out a huff of surprise, Cece set down the sprinkles and quickly closed the cupcake boxes, stacking them at the end of the counter. 

“You never said anything about it.”

“I didn’t think it was an option.” Jake watched her check the oven before putting another tray in. 

“Why wouldn’t it have been an option?” 

“It takes a long time to build up the skills and even longer to build a client base. If we were going to - ” She cut herself off, and Jake felt a jolt in his stomach. “I didn’t think I would have time to do it.” 

“And you do now?” 

“The internet helps. I do a lot of orders out of state, so I drive a lot. And I’ve figured out how to ship so I can get some cookies out. But yeah, I’ve had more time to focus on building my business.” Assembling five more boxes, she dropped cupcakes into them and picked up the piping bag again. “What about you? How’s life in the Navy?”

Lonely was on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back. When he’d moved to San Diego, he’d gotten closer to the Daggers, but since Shayla had entered the picture, it felt like they’d regressed from friends to coworkers. Nights at the Hard Deck were rare, and he was unlikely to have much time to hang out with a baby. “Fine,” Jake shrugged. Pausing to twist the bag, Cece raised an eyebrow.

“Fine? After all that work and excitement to finally fly, it’s just ‘fine’?” For something to do, he grabbed the cupcake boxes and assembled them, setting them to the side. 

“I love my job. It’s just… all the other stuff.” 

“Well, you’ll have a new adventure to keep you occupied at least,” Cece said, intently peering down at the cupcakes. “With the baby and all that.”

Jake froze, the kitchen silent except for the faint crinkle of the piping bag. “You, uh…I didn’t realize that you knew.”

“If you thought that Betty, the biggest gossip in town, wasn’t going to call me as soon as she found out to ‘warn’ me” - she lifted her fingers to do air quotes - “then you’ve been gone from Magnolia for too long. Plus, your Mama told me as soon as I got here.” Forcing her gaze up, she smiled, trying to banish any trace of sadness from her expression. “I’m happy for you, Jake. You always wanted to have kids.” 

Saved by the timer going off, he pushed to his feet and walked to the oven. The flash of heat when he opened the door gave him a cover for why his cheeks were flushed. Taking the pan out, he pushed away the memories of lying in bed together and trading half-conscious hopes for the future. “How are these?”

“Not quite. Another five degrees?” He nodded, placing the pan on the stovetop and lowering the temperature before returning to his seat. “Can I do anything to help?” 

“No, it’s fine. Don’t feel like you have to stay up - I’ve got this covered.” Ignoring the dismissal, he continued to assemble the cupcake boxes, sneaking glances at her as she worked. As the pile of boxes grew, he opened the fridge to count the cupcakes she’d be making. 

“Where are the finished ones going?”

“I have a bigger box in my car that I’m going to put these in,” Cece explained, glancing at the growing pile of finished cupcakes as she placed sprinkles.

“I’ll get it.” 

The clock was edging towards 2:00AM when Cece was finally satisfied with the macarons and was ready to work on the shells. Jake started another pot of coffee after finishing the first in the two hours they’d been working. While he stacked the finished cupcakes into a large box, she measured the ingredients, tossed them into the mixer, and prepared her cookie sheets. 

“Skip,” Jake called out as Achy Breaky Heart started to play in his earbud. 

“No appreciation for the classics,” Cece muttered, a smile tugging at her mouth as she tapped her earbud twice. The opening strings of Neon Moon started, and she couldn’t help but start to sway at the counter as Kacey Musgraves covered Brooks & Dunn. Jake heard her singing softly.  “I think of two young lovers running wild and free. I close my eyes and sometimes see you in the shadows of this smoke-filled room. No telling how many tears I've sat here and cried or how many lies that I've lied, telling my poor heart he'll come back someday.” 

The song faded into the next as she hand-finished mixing the meringue to ensure consistency. They started laughing at Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off. “Damn, I haven’t heard this one in forever,” Jake chuckled. Moving closer, he tapped her phone, pausing her recording, and pulled up the playlist to scroll through the songs. It took a minute to realize that it was a recreation of one of their road trip playlists from when they would drive the seven hours from Annapolis to Myrtle Beach for Spring Break. Pink dusted her cheeks when he glanced over at her, almost as though she was remembering those long drives, singing along with one another and brimming with the anticipation of finally being alone in their hotel room. No matter how much his buddies always wanted to split the cost, Jake and Cece had made sure that they had privacy at the end of the night to lose themselves in drunken kisses and hot showers. Those five days at the beach were stolen time that they needed. 

Back then, they thought one week together was enough to sustain a relationship. 

Cece shimmied while lifting the spatula to test the consistency. Satisfied, she brought the mixing bowl to where her piping bags and tips were prepped, blowing a strand of hair from her eyes. She flicked her head to clear her sight when it fell back into place. Unwilling to strip off her gloves, she attempted to brush it away with her shoulder. “Hey, look at me.” 

“Huh?” Jake smiled and brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Goosebumps erupted on her skin when his fingers trailed down her neck, eyes widening as they met his. He watched her cheeks flush, her breath stuttering against his wrist. “T-thanks.” 

The song ended, fading into a slower ballad. “When I first saw you, I saw love. And the first time you touched me, I felt love,” Shania sighed. “And after all this time, you're still the one I love.” 

Cece dropped her gaze and tapped her earbud, changing the song without looking at him. Jake hesitated a moment before changing it back. “Can’t skip Shania,” he said gruffly. 

Widening her eyes, Cece blinked hard as she smoothed the icing of her last cake. It was Christmas Eve and the sun had already risen over the Seresin ranch, and she could hear muffled footsteps upstairs. Cooling racks covered all available space in the kitchen, and the dining room table was covered with boxed cakes and cupcakes. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, she glanced over at Jake, who had his head resting on his arms as he closed his eyes after matching the 600 macaron shells for her. Thankfully, they didn’t need to make too many extras. They only required a little decoration - before baking, she’d shaped the red, green, and silver cookies like Christmas ornaments, so a little drizzle of icing and a spritz of edible glitter would be enough to make them look shiny and finished. 

“Jake,” she said softly, smiling when he grunted in response. “Go to bed - you’ll be more comfortable.” 

“’ M awake, babe,” he mumbled, sitting up. Cece felt her heart clench at the slipped term of endearment, but Jake didn’t seem to realize he’d said it, so she also chose to ignore it. Rubbing his eyes, he reached for his cold coffee and drained the mug as they heard the stairs creak. 

“Morning,” Mama Seresin said, tucking her robe closer as she entered the kitchen. “Did you two sleep at all?”

“Mornin’ Mama,” Jake said, his lip twitching when his mother leaned to kiss his cheek. She circled the counter to do the same to Cece. “‘Izz it time for chores?” 

“Not for you,” the older woman said, giving her son a fondly exasperated look. “I think it’s time for bed.”

“I’m on the final stretch,” Cece yawned. “Just need to finish these two cakes, and then I’ll do the macarons and call it.”

“You’ll finish the cakes and then go to sleep, Julie Louise.”

“Yeah, Julie Louise,” Jake echoed, his smile fading as he lifted his empty mug. Narrowing her eyes, Cece plucked a candied cranberry from the tray drying at her elbow and lobbed it at him. Reflexes dulled by fatigue, the berry hit his forehead and fell into his lap. Grinning, he popped it into his mouth. 

“Jacob.” The warning tone in his mother’s voice made him try to stifle his grin, but he was unsuccessful. Setting aside her icing smoother, Cece picked up the tray of cranberries and dropped a handful into a dish of waiting sugar, shaking it to coat them. The Seresins watched - Cece flushing at their joint attention - as she arranged the berries along the edge of the two cakes before ripping apart rosemary sprigs and placing pieces. Taking a step back, she rubbed the back of her hand on her cheek as she studied them, debating adding more berries. “They’re beautiful, Julie. I’m sure the mayor is going to love them.” 

Without a word, Jake retrieved cake boxes from the dining room and assembled one while Cece did the other, trading a tired smile. She glanced at her watch as soon as they were slid into the boxes. Still behind schedule, but the macarons should only take about three hours between the decorating, assembly, and boxing. The sugar cookies would take another two hours to roll and bake, with another hour and a half to make the decorating kits. But as she stripped off her gloves and opened her mouth to say she was okay, Mama Seresin pinned her with a look. “Bed.” 

“But - ”

“Bed. Both of you. You have plenty of time to get the rest of this done before this afternoon, and I’ve already made up the guest bed for you. Now get.” 

The stern expression left no room for debate, and neither did the hand she wrapped around Jake and Cece’s arms and guided them out of the kitchen. Jake paused at the foot of the stairs to allow her to climb before him, watching her heavy footsteps as fatigue seemed to drag her down. Without thinking, he placed a hand on the small of her back to ensure she didn’t tip backward. 

Cece’s shoulder bumped his as they walked down the hall, and he nudged her back. Her tired eyes darted to meet his, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth before she hip-checked him. His lips curved into an answering smile as they paused outside the second guest bedroom. “Thanks, Jake. I wouldn’t have gotten nearly as much done tonight if you hadn’t helped,” she said, voice rough with exhaustion. 

“It was fun. Feel like I got a masterclass in making macarons.”  

“You were a pretty great assistant. Might hire you on for the next round of Christmas baking.” 

“Not done yet. You gotta show me how to get the ganache in them, and I’ll put the boxes together.” 

“You really don’t - ”

“I’m gonna help. I feel like I’ve earned at least tasting one of the finished macarons.” Chuckling, she shook her head.

“Maybe even two.” The playfulness disappeared from her expression as she looked up at him, “I’m serious, though. Thank you.” Jake nodded, catching the fleeting moment of hesitation before Cece stepped forward and hugged him. His arms wrapped around her, hand coming up to cup the back of her head and holding her tighter. Without thinking, he pressed a kiss into her hair. Her head lifted from his chest, and he spied sugar crystals on her cheekbone. Jake brushed them away with his thumb before lifting it to his mouth to lick away the sweet taste.

Cece’s breath caught, gaze narrowing to the flash of tongue behind his parted lips. His chest brushed hers with every breath. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his. Confusion and something so familiar swirled in those green eyes. She took a step back, only half surprised when he followed to pin her between the wall and his body. Her fingers curled in his shirt, and she wasn’t sure if it was to pull him closer or shove him away. His hand rose, hesitating a moment before curving around her cheek. 

Jake’s lips were soft against hers, a tentative brush that she could have imagined if it wasn’t for the rough scratch of his stubble. Her grip on his shirt tightened as he planted a hand beside her head, boxing her in as he pressed against her. The move made her whimper, and his breath caressed her skin as he laughed before they kissed again, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and sliding against her own. Cece dug her nails into his back, inhaling sharply when he moaned against her mouth, his hips pressing against hers. “Baby,” he panted. “I missed you.” 

The words were like a wave of cold water thrown over her, and Cece shoved him away. Jake stumbled back, catching himself on the opposite wall. “Shit,” she breathed, pressing a hand to her mouth. 

“Cece?” Jake reached for her before letting his hand drop when he realized what they’d done. 

What he’d done.

The door to his parent’s room opened, and - when he turned to meet his father’s gaze - Cece darted into the guest bedroom. “Son, everything alright?” Pops asked, frowning at his youngest.

“Y-yes, sir. Just headed to bed,” Jake replied. 

Julie leaned against the door and hung her head inside the room, blinking back tears. “Fuck,” she whispered. 

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

Read Chapter 4

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Boundaries: Terry Bruno x Reader

Tagging: @beardedbarba @justreblogginfics @Storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart

This was one of the over pieces that didn't make it into The North Star series. For me it shows how far Sam as come since the relationship ended with Russo, how much strength Terry has given her to face the man that hurt her.

The problem with your ex-boyfriend Paul is he has no boundaries, he never has.

 You remember that late in the evening as your sitting at your desk, filling out DD5s in a hope to get a jump on them before the weekend. The squad room has emptied out at this point, everyone rushing out for happy hour at McQueen’s around the corner. It’s just you left, earbuds in as you work by the light of your desk lamp. The fluorescents give you a headache this late in the day.

You don’t hear him approach your desk; you don’t see him. You’re too involved in the little check boxes you’re clicking away on. It isn’t until his hand comes to rest on the nape of your neck, his thumb trailing over the scar etched into your sensitive skin that you even register his presence.

You bolt away as if something’s scalded you, whirling around to face him. Paul holds his hands up as if in surrender, that ridiculous smug expression on his face.

“What the fuck?” You practically spit.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, each thud feels like a blow to your intercostal muscles as you stare at Detective Paul Russo, man of the hour, hero of the week. Your ex-boyfriend and apparently ex-addict.

“You looked tense.” He says by way of explanation. “You always you used to like it.”

You’re speechless, absolutely fucking speechless because of the audacity of this man. He takes your silence as an invitation, stepping into your personal space and it’s too much, far too much. Your natural response to a threat is usually to fight but with Paul you freeze, you freeze because you remember the last time you tried to fight. You remember the agony of smashing through the floor length mirror, the glass tearing through your flesh, ripping through the fabric of your vest top. It’s raw, the pain that rushes through you, it intermingles with the anguish of seeing Paul walk out the door with your cash in his hand, as he leaves you bleeding in the hallway.

“Give me a chance.” He requests; his fingertips come to rest on your desk as he cages you in.  “Let me explain myself.”

His voice has taken on that tone, it’s low, overfamiliar. You can smell the beer on his breath but as promised he’s sobered; alcohol never was his poison. That had always been coke. His fingertips trail over the thin gold chain around your throat before he grips the tiny etched compass resting below your collarbone.

“This is new.”

It’s this gesture that fuels the fire inside of you, because moments like this are why Terry gave you the necklace in the first place. The moments where you doubt yourself, where you feel trapped, where you can’t see a way forward or in this case a way out.

So, you can always find your way, he had said.

It reminds you of nights wrapped up in his arms, that tender smile on his handsome features as he brushes the hair out of your eyes with gentle fingertips. He touches you with care, with a delicacy that makes you feel revered.

“You know what I love about you,” he’d whispered into the corner of your mouth.  “Your ferocity, that fire inside of you, it burns so bright. It’s beautiful, it’s deadly and it’s all you pretty girl. No one can ever take that away, no one can ever douse it. It’s just a part of you, lighting up the rest of the world, burning from the inside out.”

Your fingers grip the necklace, detangling it carefully from his grasp.

“Get the fuck away from me.”

It’s cold and it’s vehement, a timbre he’s not used to hearing from you but it’s enough to make him withdraw with a wounded look in his eyes. It gives you the space to breath, he’s still too close but you can think again.

“Darlin…” he implores as you slip away from him, getting some distance.

“Don’t.” You say holding your hand up to silence him.

You use your Sergeant’s voice, that authoritative tone snapping through the air and stopping Paul in his tracks as he approaches you once more. Despite his lack of personal boundaries, something inside of him still reacts to the chain of command and he hates it, you can see it from the tension in his jaw as his eyes fix on you.

“This isn’t going to happen.” You inform him gesturing between the two of you. “Not again. It doesn’t matter that you’ve been sober for over a year, that you think you’ve changed, that you’re now working Robbery instead of Narcotics…”

“I did it for you.” He says abruptly, crossing his arms over his chest. “I got sober for you.”

“If that’s meant to guilt me…”

He shake his head, his lips pursed together before he exhales.

“When you left, I hit rock bottom.” Paul tells you. “I saw what I did to that mirror…”

“What you did to the mirror?!” You laugh and it sounds sharp, even in your own ears. “What about what you did to me?”

He gives you that look, the one he gives suspects in the interrogation room when they were telling a tall tale.

“Come on, we both know you started that.” He reminds you. “My career was on the line and that was the time you decided not to pay up, they were threatening to go to my Captain, and you were going to let them.”

“You…” The words die in your throat.

There’s nothing left to say. You couldn’t argue with that skewed reality, you would drive yourself crazy.  You want to scream, to cry, to break something but you don’t because to do that would show weakness and that was something you had promised yourself you would never do in front of Paul again.

Instead you brush past him, jamming your laptop into your satchel before snatching your coat up from the back of the chair and leave him standing there alone in the squad room. You’d walked away once; you have no problem doing it again.

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Father, Son & The Holy Shit // Jake Seresin

Chapter Two: [Father, Son & Artificial Constructs] Bradley hears from his ex, your mother. You’re heading to North Island for the summer. Jake is immediately hooked on the young Bradshaw girl who’s dating his son.

Warning: Jake Seresin x F!Bradshaw Reader. Suggestive themes. Unspecified Age gap. Gaslighting/manipulation. Moral outrage. 18+

Word Count: 5.4k

Masterlist

Bradley Bradshaw was a lot of things. He was a great friend, the life of the party. He was a dedicated aviator, decorated in fact. He was a pretty decent piano player and an amateur cook—he could make any dish involving instant ramen look restaurant quality. Soft boiled egg, green onions, little drizzle of sweet soy and all. 

But a good father was probably something that from time to time had been rubbed off that list—then written back over with pencil. Then rubbed off again, written again, so forth and so on. 

“She wants to spend the summer getting to know her father Bradley.” Claire sighed out in frustration on the other end of the line as Bradley held his phone up to his ear as he showered. He let the stream of scalding hot water cascade down his body—the motion of his other hand that had been wrapped around his length slowed to a begrudged halt as the conversation shifted from hellos and how are yours? To you. “She’s in college now—hell I don’t even think you’ve seen her since she was a freshman in high school.” 

Claire Littleton had been the girl Bradley Bradshaw lost his virginity to back when they were just a mere seventeen years old. It was both their first time. They didn’t know what they were doing and they sure as hell thought they were oh so in love. Up until the pregnancy test showed up with the brightest pink positive sign the pair of them had ever seen and neither of them knew what the fuck they were doing. They were both still kids themselves. How could they possibly have a child?

“I’ve just been re-stationed Clarie. I don't think it’s a good idea, I’ve barely unpacked.” Claire knew Bradley was in the shower, she could hear the water running, she could hear the echo in his voice, she could picture the steam radiating from his body as she closed her eyes and willed away the imagery of her daughter's father standing in the shower—naked and tan and toned and— “Hello? Clarie?” 

“Sorry, yeah I’m here.” Clarie brought her mind back to reality as she pushed herself up off the desk she was leaning on, sitting behind the computer at the reception desk at the doctor's office she worked at. “Her boyfriend’s apparently spending the summer in North Island interning for some Commander, I think it’s his dad from what I can recall her mentioning.” Clarie explained briefly as she looked around at the empty waiting room—there was still ten minutes till opening. 

Bradley chuckled softly to himself as he looked up to the ceiling, son of a bitch. She knew he was in North Island. Claire always kept tabs on where her favourite flightless bird was in the world. It made Bradley feel like at least there was one person roaming the earth that gave a damn. Well—besides Maverick that was. 

“You already knew I’d been reposted, didn’t you?” Clarie didn’t answer straight away but Bradley knew she was smiling on the other end of the line—he could see her clear as day in his mind as he closed his eyes, biting her bottom lip trying to hide back a shit eating grin. “Who’s Y/n dating Clarie?” 

“He’s nice, his mothers young, think we can relate on that note.” Clarie knew the last name would drive a hot iron into Bradley’s side. They had never been on the best of terms. “And I don’t want you taking it out on the kid because of who his father is alright?” Bradley had told Clarie a million times about a guy of the name Jake Seresin, she knew of her ex’s distaste for the man even before he did what no one ever expected of him and saved Bradley’s life a few years back. 

Rooster felt like he had no choice but to play nice nowadays—Hangman had saved his life and for that he was grateful. But it still didn’t mean the guy didn’t have an ego the size of Mt Everest. 

Commander Jake Seresin had gotten the band back together. He was Mirimars newest Commander and he knew the exact people he wanted on sight. 

Bradley, unfortunately for himself, was one of them. 

“Oh god don’t tell me she’s dating Kian Seresin—“ Bradley could have smashed his head against the tiles of his shower. Anyone but that kid. Anyone but a Seresin. Jake was never gonna let Bradley live it down. Couldn’t it have been a Floyd or a Trance or even a fucking Garcia! “No—no fucking way.” 

“They’ve been dating for over a year now Roos—“ Clarie was trying to soften the blow the best she could but it was to no avail. She heard the water shut off and sighed. “You’re overreacting, you’re daughter wants to spend time with you over the summer break and you’re—“

“No, she wants to spend time with her boyfriend in North Island and is gonna use me as an excuse to do so.” 

“So? At least she wants to see you, Rooster, there’s plenty of dads out there who don’t see their daughters anymore because they grew up and decided the bare minimum wasn’t enough.” Now Claire did have a point, Bradley knew he hadn’t been the most present dad in your life. 

But he cared. 

“You had over a year to tell me she's dating a Seresin and couldn’t send me a text? An email perhaps, hell I probably would’ve been happy with a messenger pigeon!” Bradley huffed as he stepped out of the shower, holding his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he wrapped a clean towel around his waist. The hard on he’d tried to give some attention to was long gone now. It wasn’t the first time Clarie Littleton had given Bradley blue balls and it probably wasn’t going to be the last. “For the love of god Clarie I don’t even like working with the guy, now you wanna tell me my daughters dating his son?” 

Everyone knew Jake had a kid, a son. Kian. Much like Bradley he had him young. The two shared that and their love for the navy in common. They had both been young, dumb and oh so in love. The only difference between the pair was that unlike Bradley and Clarie who both decided amicably that they knew they could both have a successful future apart than together, Jake had married the supposed love of his life the second it was legal. 

Bradley and Clarie both did their best to raise you, but there came a point where Bradley had to give up his share of the custody agreement so he could focus on his career. 

“Bradley, your daughter will be in town at the end of the week, she either stays with you or she’ll stay with Kian and his dad.” Claire groaned on the other end of the line as she placed her forehead on the countertop. “And she wants to stay with you! So stop worrying about someone else’s son and use what time you’ve been given here to get to know your daughter in her adult life.” 

Jake Seresin had married his highschool sweetheart Nacy only three weeks after they both turned eighteen, which was six months after Kian was born. For Jake that was now three failed marriages ago and a handful of divorce settlements later. Bradley had never been more thankful to have someone like Clarie in his life—a support system he could trust no matter what. 

And someone to call late at night, you know—for when he was feeling overworked and under fucked. 

“Yeah—fine fine.” Bradley conceded as he looked at himself in the mirror, he did his best to be a good dad. And it wasn’t that he didn’t want to see you, it was just he thought you were a hell of a lot better off without him. “And for the record I was at her highschool graduation, and I saw her before I came out to North Island two years ago, I’ve got that picture of the three of us hanging in the hall.” 

It was Claire’s turn to chuckle, the memory had slipped her mind. Bradley Bradshaw was a good dad, he just wasn’t around that much. He paid his fair share and then some over the years, helped Clarie settle into her new life in San Francisco just after you were three and he allowed her to live a life separate from him. They shared their love for you though, and spent their entire lives pinning for one another. Bradley had always been there for anything and everything you and your mother needed. 

But not a lot of people knew Bradley had a daughter, it was just something that Bradley wanted to keep all to himself if he could. Some people knew. Pete, Natasha, Jake. Guess he was in on this and just hadn’t bothered to mention he knew for a whole ass year that his son was dating a Bradshaw. But it wasn’t like Jake and Bradley texted. 

“Oh my apologies, step aside for father of the year.” There was always a part of Clarie Littleton that wondered what life would have been life if she had wanted to be the Navy wife. What a life with Bradley could have been like. 

“Eat me Claire—“ Bradley wondered too. It was one of the main reasons he never really settled down with anyone else. He tried, lord knows he did. But he felt a guilt inside his soul that if he was gonna settle down with anyone it was gonna be with Clarie. It would be a disservice to you and your mother if he found love anywhere else. He had all the love he needed. 

It was just unconventional. 

“I’m sure you’d love that Bradshaw.” Clarie replied as she sat up in her chair. “Listen I gotta go, but you should call her, plan ahead and let her know you want her there—she’s not a kid anymore, but she’ll always be your baby girl.” Claire never hesitated to keep Bradley in-line and he always listened—always. Phoenix was convinced if Clarie called Rooster tomorrow and said she loved him he’d marry her on the spot. And he would. “Love you Bradshaw, take care of yourself.” 

“Yeah love you too—“ Bradley heard the dial tone ring in his ear before he had a chance to finish his sentence. So he left it at that and placed his phone down on the vanity. “More than you think you know Littleton.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~**

“All I’m saying is good and bad, right and wrong are just artificial constructs designed by society to kinda keep everyone in check.” Kian tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as turned down the street you’d told him to turn. Your dad had given you his new address at the beginning of the week after he called. You knew your mum put him up to it, but you knew he had some of his own intention behind it. “And then you add religious beliefs into the mix and suddenly it’s on for young and old.” 

“All religion is just a foolish answer to a foolish question—“ You repeated before your boyfriend could, you’d heard him say it a million times. “I think it’s this one, pull up baby.” Kian was a man of science, not a man of faith by any means. He was a man of the mind, not of the body and soul. 

You knew it was your father’s home simply because of the Blue Bronco sitting in the drive. He loved that thing almost as much as your mum loved her rock climbing. You had vivid memories of beach days and sandy floor mats whenever you saw the damn thing. The butterflies in your stomach only fluttered with anticipation as Kian turned into the drive and parked behind the tried and true mode of transportation Bradley Bradshaw swore by. 

“Is that dear old pops sitting on the porch?” Kian chuckled as he parked the car, you were out of the car in seconds as Bradley stood from where he’d been perched waiting for your imminent arrival. 

“Hi stranger!” You beamed as you made your way over. Bradley chuckled as he placed a hand over his heart and faked weak in the knees. “Still got that stupendous mustache I see?” Bradley faked a shot to the heart.m as he laughed. 

“You mother didn’t mention you got so big—“ He took you in for a warm embrace as he spun you around and picked you up off your feet. “Far out kid what’s it been? Two? Three years?” 

“Uh yeah something like that, right before you reposted out here for that detachment.” You replied as your dad placed you back down. Kian cleared his throat softly as he rounded the car, not wanting to interrupt the moment. You smiled at your boyfriend then back at your dad. “Dad, this is Kian Seresin, my boyfriend.” 

“I remember—“ Bradley smiled as he shook Kians hand. “Yeah you were probably like four the last time I saw you man, on your mum's hip at one of our first Naval Galas.”

“It’s good to finally meet you sir.” Kian shook your fathers hand with a smile that couldn’t be faked or forced, he was delighted in every aspect to meet the man the myth that was your father Bradley Bradshaw—Although he’d met him in his less than formative years. “Claire and Y/n have mentioned nothing but the best.” 

“That’s a damn lie son, don’t I know it.” Bradley chuckled as he pulled his hand back and tapped Kian a few times on the shoulder. “Come on, I promised your dad we’d meet up at the Hard Deck for dinner, so get your stuff settled and we’ll head over.” It was self flagellation really, Rooster didn’t have any intention of playing happy family with Jake, but you looked happy and Bradley didn’t want anything to come between you and the happiness you deserved.

“Uh what’s the Hard Deck?” You asked as you walked with Kian back around to the trunk, watching as he and your dad grabbed your bags and walked back up to the house. The home that Kian would spend the first night with you in. Your dads place, before you'd stay the night at his dads. 

“It’s a bar.” Kian and your dad both said in unison. Turns out Kian and his father had a closer relationship than you did with yours. You and Bradley spoke often enough—Kain and Jake spoke almost every other day. 

“Oh, well alright then, I’m pretty pumped to meet your dad.” You trailed behind Kian. He stopped in his tracks to place a gentle kiss to your cheek. “We can play the who’s dads more of a deadbeat than the other.” Bradley looked at you as if you’d stabbed him in the heart, was he a good dad? Probably not but he sure wasn’t a deadbeat. 

“Uh, hands down mine.” Kian chuckled. Bradley raised an all knowing eyebrow. He sure wasn’t wrong. “But you’re free to make your own judge of character.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Jake Seresin was a lot of things. He’d been told from a few different sources that he was a bit of a prick, a scumbag—an overachiever who’d step over anyone and do anything in his power to be the best. He was a loyalist to the game that was the US Naval hierarchy and all he ever wanted was to be at the top of the pyramid. 

“This really pains you, doesn’t it Bradshaw?” But there was something Jake Seresin wasn't all that good at. He was a damn good aviator and he on occasion could understand the concept of what the definition of a team was. But Jake wasn’t a good father and worse off, he wasn’t a good husband. 

“More than you could possibly imagine Seresin—“ Bradley bit his tongue as he shook Jake's hand in a friendly gesture of gratitude. Despite their differences the two were amicable on a good day. The Hard Deck hadn’t changed in the two years that had passed since Bradley and Jake flew together on the Uranium mission that saw Jake's career skyrocket into the stratosphere. Hell Bradley was still a lieutenant to Jake’s Commander ranking. 

“Ah, but isn't young love a virtue.” Jake chuckled as he let go of Roosters hand. The pair had only been back in North Island for roughly a week and a bit before their respective spawn were chewing at their heels. 

“Not when a Seresins involved, that’s for sure.” Bradley mumbled under his breath, but sure enough Jake heard the jab. With three failed marriages, a slu of settlements and a child he treated more like a friend than a son, Jake Seresin knew nothing of love. He wasn’t capable of it. He’d burnt his first marriage down just for the fun of it and he’d built two more back up just to watch it all fall apart again. All three times, Jake had been at fault. 

But he’d never claimed to be a good man—so the thought of the broken hearts club that cried themselves to sleep that he had coincidentally formed, didn’t really keep him up at night. 

“Kian, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?” Jake smiled as he finally turned his attention to you as you stood with your arm wrapped around Kains. “I’ve heard far too much about this beautiful young woman for her to still be a stranger.” The pair of you had been waiting for Jake and Bradley to greet each other. 

“Dad this is Y/n Bradshaw, Y/n this is my dad, Commander Jake Seresin.” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You smiled politely as you reached out to shake your boyfriend's dads hand. His eyes roamed your body like you had something he desired and for a moment you felt like you’d been put on display at some art exhibition. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“All good things I hope?” Jake sent you that signature smirk Kian had. It was a Seresin staple apparently. “How’s mother hen doing these days? Clarie? Isn’t it Rooster?” 

Jake could feel Rooster burning a hole into the side of his shit eating smile at the mere mention of your mother. Bradley had only told Jake about you and about Clarie, your mother, after the egotistical jerk saved his life. It was a can of worms he wished he never cracked open. 

“She’s good! Yeah her art is really starting to take off now!” You beamed as you looked at your dad who just had this light in his eye as you spoke about your mother. “She’s doing really well for herself, I keep telling her that she needs to quit that stupid doctors receptionist gig she’s got and just focus on her painting but she won’t. Doesn’t believe she could make it on just her talent alone.” You explained to the three men who stood around you. 

“I’m gonna grab us all a round of drinks—“ Kian mentioned in the lull of conversation. “Rooster? You want a beer?” 

“I’ll get a Canadian Club thanks kid.” Kain nodded, committing the request to memory. Your dad drank Canadian club. Perfect. Noted. 

“Dad?” 

“Just a budweiser buddy.” Jake said as he drank in the sight of you like he’d been walking in the desert for days without water. “Y/n? Drink of choice?” 

“Gin Sour—“ Both Bradley and Kian mentioned at the same time. For an absentee father Bradley Bradshaw still knew his only daughter pretty well. “Come on, tables this way.” Bradley huffed a little under his breath as you turned to follow him. 

If you hadn’t been so nervous you probably wouldn’t have noticed, but there was nothing unnoticeable about the way Commander Seresin moved his hand up your back to guide you over to the table. Your heart nearly jumped from your chest at the feeling of his touch. 

His hand sat perfectly against the small of your back like he’d done it a hundred times and would continue to do it a thousand more. He made it seem so innocent at first so you didn’t react as you followed your dad. You let him guide you—innocently enough, towards the booth tucked away in the corner of the Hard Deck. 

“How about you sit across from dear old dad sweetheart?” Jake suggested as he watched Rooster slide into the booth seat closest to the wall. “That way I can sit across from Kian and can keep an eye on Rooster here.” 

“You don’t wanna sit next to me Hangman?” Bradley chuckled as he shook his head. “I’m slightly offended.”

“Can’t help it if your cologne makes me uncomfortable.” Jake played his decisions off like they were barely even thoughts. But unbeknownst to all they were calculated and cunning. Jake still had his hand pressed to the small of your back as you stood near the booth. “Well, slide on in, we don’t have all night now do we kid.” 

Jake waited for the right moment, he waited until you were sliding into the booth to trail his hand across the expanse of your lower back down your ass. You kept a straight face as you felt the presence of his hand over the pocket of your jeans, collecting something in the process rather slyly. 

You cleared your throat as you fixed yourself up and situated yourself across from your dad. He’d seen nothing, and soon enough Kian was returning with the drinks he’d ordered. 

“Some lady at the bar said she’d give me twenty dollars if I told you Rooster was the better pilot.” 

“I’ll give you fifty just to shut up.” Jake snapped back without a second of hesitation in his voice. Every person at the table laughed, including yourself. It felt normal. It felt right to finally be meeting your boyfriend’s father—you’d been together for just over a year now and the whole aspect of your distant dads just seemed so untangable. But sitting across from your dad and next to Kians made your heart swell. The normality of it all brought a warm comfort to your soul. 

Except you were pretty sure he just copped a feel. 

“So what’re you studying Kian?” Bradley asked as he chowed down on his steak and veg. Kian finished his mouthful before answering as he looked over at you. There was something in the way his son looked at you that caught Jake's curiosity.

There was a look of lesser than he didn’t quite like behind his son's eyes. It would’ve gone unnoticed if you didn’t look down at your food to avoid the glare. You twirled your fork around in the pasta you were eating, filling in time as Kian fronted the career path he’d chosen. 

The one he liked to practice on you. 

“I’m studying Psychology—“ Before Kian could ramble on about what paths he wanted to travel down and what specialty he wanted to work towards Jake cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with the napkin before him. He’d heard his son talk about college enough. 

“What about you sweetie?” He turned all his attention to you as you sat meekly in the corner, trapped between the wall and your boyfriend's dad. “What’s my hopefully daughter in law planning to be in the near distant future.” 

There was something in that tone Jake used when he coined you sweetie: something sinister, something secretive and dangerous. 

“Oh when you say it out loud it makes me wanna cry.” Rooster groaned, he still hadn’t wrapped his head around the fact he was sitting with Jake and his son at a family dinner. All you did was laugh a little at your dad, he was doing his best to make it through the night. You appreciated the effort. You appreciated him. 

“I’m studying exercise physiology.” Through the corner of Jake's eyes he saw Kian roll his slightly at your statement. What was so wrong with that? “I uh—eventually wanna get to a point where I can do a masters in musculoskeletal physiotherapy—help people with neurological pathways that might be blocked, spinal injuries and stuff.” Your mother told you to shoot for the moon and far beyond, Bradley had been the one who paid for your college tuition. Together they were pretty good at supporting you emotionally and financially. 

Kian however, well—he didn’t really see physiotherapy as a real solution to a major problem that was the overburdened and understaffed health care system. He didn’t care all that much for allied health. 

“Because running track will pay the bills babe—“ Kian chuckled softly to himself as he took another bite of his steak. Bradley frowned, he didn’t like that one bit. Neither did Jake for a matter of fact. 

His hand slowly but surely crept up your thigh under the table. He took a sip of his beer and raised a steady brow as Bradley cleared his throat—unaware of that fact Jake's hand was resting utop your knee, creeping closer and closer to your core. You’d frozen in your place as you kept your cool—surely he wasn’t. You were misinterpreting things. 

The slight touch of your ass before and now this? 

“Well I don’t know about you guys but I need another drink.” You smiled as you remembered how to breathe again as Jake removed his hand from your jean clad thigh. “Dad, you want another? Kian?” Jake was quick to stand to let you out, there was a look he didn’t quite like written in the lines on your face. “Did you want another Budweiser Mr Seresin?” 

“Jake, or Hangman, please—“ There was a certain amount of list that dropped from Jakes tongue at the idea of hearing you call him Mr. Seresin over and over again as the idea of having his way with you ran rampant in his kind. “And sure thing sweetheart.” He smiled as you pressed your lips together and nodded softly.

“I’ll be right back, I’ll probably step outside to call mum too.” Once you were gone, Jake turned to his son and smacked him right upside the head. Kian gasped as he rubbed at the back of his head. All Bradley did was watch the interaction unfold—it wasn’t often he got to see Jake be a parent and sometimes it was pretty comical to watch. 

“Ow! What the hell was that for!?” 

“Don’t diminish your girlfriend like that.” Jake argued. “For a Bradshaw she doesn’t seem half bad and you just shit all over her college education like a fuckwit.” Rooster was speechless, he never expected Jake to defend you like that, ever. He kinda felt a little chuffed at that. 

“Didn’t you cheat on two of your three wives?” Kian fired back as Bradley choked on his final sip of Canadian Club. “That’s pretty diminishing if you ask me.” 

He wasn’t wrong. And boy did Jake hate that his son was far too much like him. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~

As you stood on the front veranda of the Hard Deck, you took in the sight of a few Naval Aviators that had just arrived. You could hear laughter and chatter dripping out from inside the bar but you were pretty content in your own peace for a moment. 

“So—“ Jake didn’t mean to spook you, but as he watched with lustful eyes as you jumped and let out a small audible gasp, he held his hands up beside his head. Holding in his right the vape he’d pulled from your jean pocket before. “Does Kian know you smoke?” He tossed it your way, you caught it in both your palms before tapping it in the railing. 

“Yeah, he knows it's only when my anxiety gets bad.” You tried to explain. “When I feel under duress.” You shrugged your shoulders and pressed your lips together into a fine line. “I told him I was gonna quit after summer break.” 

“Those things are full of carcinogens.” You agreed with a silent nod, took a hit, breathed in the flavored vapor before exhaling slowly only to take a drink of your third cocktail of the night. “I’m sorry for what my son said about your degree.” Jake admitted as he stood beside you with his hands in his pockets. “It was a little outta line.” 

“The really ironic thing is he’s the one who’s studying psychology and can’t see how peaceful life becomes when you decide you no longer have the energy to argue.” You explained. “How peaceful life becomes when you’re okay with being misunderstood.” Jake wasn’t too sure what you were getting at but regardless he listened intently. “People only understand from their level of perception Mr Seresin—and quite frankly no argument is worth damaging my mental health over, including but not limited to Kians opinion on physiotherapists.” 

“You two doing okay?” 

“We’re fine—“ You lied through your teeth. This summer was all about trying to salvage the love you shared for one another. “We’re just going through a small rough patch.” 

“Ah, well unfortunately for Kian he doesn’t have the best role models to look up to in terms of relationships.” You chuckled softly as you took another sip of your drink and turned your attention to Jake. “But there's no excuse to treat such a fine young woman like yourself with disrespect.” You didn’t reply straight away, you stood in the silence on the front veranda of the Hard Deck with your boyfriend's dad for a moment until you heard a loud cry of cheers coming from inside. “Kain and Rooster are having a dart comp—“ Jake mentioned briefly as his eyes never left yours, the distance between the two of you was next to nothing and the alcohol in your veins made you brave. 

Braver than usual. 

“Why did you touch my ass inside?” You asked through a slur, you thought you knew what you were doing but then again you never really dank. So there was a pretty good chance it had hit you pretty hard. 

“I don't recall doing that sweetheart—“ Jake scoffed as he reached out to tuck a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “I wouldn’t do that, but I’m sorry if I simply grazed you when I was sliding in behind you.” Jake was hard, his jeans were straining tight against his length as he throbbed inside his boxer briefs. You were really something. 

“How’d you get my vape then?” You asked through a coy smile and battered eyelashes that made Jake want to shove you down to your knees then and there. “If you didn’t touch my ass?” 

“It fell out of your back pocket.” Jake had to grit his teeth together in order to maintain a level head as you walked your fingers up his chest. Slowly. “Careful there sweetheart you might give me the wrong impression.” 

“And what about when you touched my knee?” You continued as you reached back to pick up your drink. Taking another sip, Jake could smell the alcohol on your breath and he knew that you were inebriated. Perfect. 

“Friendly gestures aren’t welcome I see?” Jake tried once again to play his actions down to mere exaggerations on your behalf. He almost had you believing that it was all in your head. “You’ve got a little something on your—?” He paused, tapping at his lower lip to suggest you had something there. “Here I’ll get it.” 

Before you could protest, Commander Seresin, your boyfriend's dad, was running the pad of his thumb slowly across your bottom lip. He paused as he collected the alcoholic foam. 

“You know for a Bradshaw you really are a pretty little thing aren’t you.” He didn’t mean to be so forward, but then again if you were intoxicated he could spin this whatever way he pleased come the morning. This never happened. It was all in your head. 

“I’ve been told that a time or two.” You smiled softly.

“Hopefully my son knows how lucky he is, or else someone might just snatch you up.” Jake removed his thumb from where he’d been tilting your chin up towards his gaze. There was just something about you. 

He needed to be inside you. 

“Someone being?” You pressed, wondering what he could possibly say next. Wondering if this was really all in your head or if you had actually been flirting with your boyfriend's dad and he with you. Jake's answer set your nerve ending alight. You didn’t know how to process what he said before he turned on his heels and left you there standing on the veranda of the Hard Deck alone. 

“Me—“ 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~***~***~***~***~***~***~****~**

[goddess-aelin]

Accidents Happen

For Rowaelin Month Day 2

@rowaelinscourt

Masterlist

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: having a bad day

Rowan Whitethorn planned to start his day like he always did, a cup of coffee in hand and no ambition to be more social. And then his coffee machine had to take a crap and his need for caffeine outweighed his social aversion, especially if he was supposed to deal with his hellion of a boss. Working from home had its perks, he supposed, especially since it gave him time before his 9AM meeting to run down to the corner coffee shop and pick up a fresh cup of coffee. That didn’t mean that he particularly wanted to put pants on and trudge the block to the overstuffed cafe.

But he did it anyway. Ten minutes later, wearing the comfiest sweatpants he could find and bringing nothing but his wallet and his phone, Rowan was standing in the ridiculously long line winding throughout the tiny cafe. The smell of fresh grounds was inviting even if the amount of people was not. The cafe had a certain charm, though. The mismatched chairs and exposed brick walls featuring art from local artists made Rowan not mind the crowd as much.

When it was his turn, he gave his order, left a generous tip, and stood to the side to wait for his drink to be called. Luckily, the wait time was short and just for that simple fact, Rowan fished out a few more dollars and threw them in the tip jar. These poor college kids probably weren’t getting paid as well as they should have been considering the way they were working their asses off.

Wrapped up in the contentment of finally having the familiar warmth of a coffee in his hand, Rowan completely missed the blonde woman standing behind him. Naturally, when he turned, he walked right into her. And so, apparently, did his coffee. All Rowan could do was watch with widened eyes and an apology on his lips as the stain gradually spread down the front of the woman’s white shirt. Rowan slowly brought his gaze up to meet hers, her turquoise eyes enrapturing him from the first glimpse. Well, fuck. Not only did he spill his coffee on a poor, innocent bystander, but she just happened to be one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, too.

Even Rowan’s distraction couldn’t hide the simmering anger the woman was barely containing.

“I am so–”

The woman cut him off by holding a single hand up, palm toward him. The woman repeated the gesture again, giving a slight pushing motion to her hand to make him back away slightly. She left without another word. And Rowan, well, Rowan was confused as hell.

A very sweet employee took the now empty coffee cup from his hand, throwing it in the trash and already beginning to mop up the mess he made. Rowan felt helpless though he mostly felt terrible for the victim. Hopefully none of the coffee got on the woman’s skin given how scalding the liquid had been.

A quick glance to the line told Rowan that, no, he would not have time to reorder another cup. His meeting was in less than 15 minutes and he had to get back to his apartment. Rowan pushed through the crowd that amassed toward the door, avoiding the spill he caused, and left through the exit. He started making his way back to his apartment. Correction. He would have started making his way to his apartment had a sobbing sound not hit his ears.

Sure enough, the woman from the cafe was huddled on the edge of the sidewalk about 10 feet away from the coffee shop, her bag laying haphazardly next to her and her heels kicked off. If Rowan was a normal person, he would have walked right by her and got to his meeting on time. But Rowan was, well, Rowan, and his guilty conscience would not allow that.

He shot off a quick text to his boss, telling her he would be a few minutes late because of an emergency and stepped up to the still-sobbing woman. What was the best way to approach her? A ‘hey are you okay?’ seemed to be obviously wrong and tapping her on the shoulder was a big no considering he already felt like he violated her space enough today.

In the end, he settled for a simple, “Excuse me.”

The woman turned her head, her now red-rimmed eyes glancing up to him. Once she realized who he was, she let out a huff of breath and he could have sworn she rolled her eyes before putting her face back into her hands.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s fine. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry and I didn’t mean for that to happen in there.” Though she didn’t answer him right away, her breathing at least slowed and her hands dropped away from her face. He took that as a good sign. Once again, he thought that normal people probably would’ve given up and walked away. But he caused this. And he would not be the reason someone was crying on the sidewalk, at least not without trying to fix it.

Maybe he was overstepping and maybe he’d regret it later, but he decided to take a seat next to her a few feet away.

“I…the coffee didn’t burn you, did it?”

The woman gave him a wary glance but after a few seconds, shook her head ‘no.’

“Is there anything I can do to help you? I can run and get you a new coffee or napkins or...if you need–”

“I’m fine.” Her voice was hoarse from crying. She cleared it a few times before attempting to speak again. “It’s just been a bad day. Bad week.” She let out a humorless laugh.

The wheels in Rowan’s brain started turning. “Wait here.” He held his hands up in supplication while getting up from the curb. “Just…wait here. Please.” He gave a half smile before running back inside. To his delight, the line had gone down considerably and he only waited a few minutes to reorder. The barista remembered his order from a few minutes before and also, luckily, remembered the woman’s order, as well. He threw in a few pastries for good measure and was on his way back out the door in no time.

To his relief, the woman was still outside, though she moved to the bench a few feet down the sidewalk. Her eyebrows raised slightly as she noticed him coming back with more than a few treats.

“This is for you,” Rowan said as he passed her the large coffee cup that smelled like it had way too much sugar in it. Once she took it, he opened the bag of pastries, their sweet aroma wafting toward the woman, whose eyebrows only went higher.

“I know you still have the stain on your shirt but I hope this at least helps make your day a little less…terrible. I really am sorry.” After a few moments of the woman still not saying anything, he started to get up and make his way back home.

“Wait!”

Rowan turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers.

“Why?” The question was barely a whisper. “Why would you do this for me?”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Because I was the cause of this. I spilled my entire coffee cup on you. The least I owe you is a new cup and maybe some money for dry cleaning.” She huffed a laugh at that.

“You don’t owe me anything. It was an accident, one that was just the icing on the cake of a very long, very stressful week.” She shrugged. “Accidents happen.”

Rowan slowly sat back down on the bench. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, the woman’s brows furrowed and confusion crossed her face.

“You want to listen to me talk about my problems?”

“I mean, obviously you don’t have to. It just seems like you might need a listening ear.” He shrugged.

“ O…kay. Well it started when I found my boyfriend in bed with my boss.”

Rowan almost spit out his coffee. His eyes slowly gazed toward her and he noticed the small smile playing on her lips. “What a way to start a story. Seriously?!”

The smile that crossed her face did…funny things to his insides to say the least. “Technically that happened a few months ago but I did run into him on Monday, which started all these terrible events. Then my cousin, who was visiting for a while, left to go back to Caraverre, my new boss is turning out to be a total creep, I got gum stuck in my hair from someone on the train and had to have an impromptu haircut, and well…here we are.”

“Gods. I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan couldn’t help the guilt that washed over him.

“Don’t be. It really wasn’t your fault.” She started to get up, Rowan following suit. “Well, I guess that I should get going considering I have to stop at home before going into work.” Rowan gave her a sheepish look. “Thanks for the coffee and muffins…and for listening. You know, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

“Rowan.” He stuck his hand out for her to shake.

“Aelin.”

“Aelin,” he repeated. He liked the way her name easily rolled off of his tongue.

“Well, Rowan, this may be presumptuous of me but would you maybe…want to meet up sometime? You know, if me word vomiting my baggage didn’t scare you off.” A slow smile crossed Rowan’s face.

“You didn’t scare me off. If anything, it should be you who’s scared off, what with spilling my coffee all over you. “ He gave her a sideways smile. “But yes, I absolutely would love to meet up again.” She gave him another one of those room-lighting smiles.

After exchanging numbers and going their separate ways, Rowan couldn’t help but walk toward his apartment with a little pep in his step. He was definitely about to get an earful from his boss about being late but it occurred to him that he didn’t really care. Not when the reason he was late was so worth it.

A/N: My writing is a little bit rusty but I hope this was fluffy enough that it makes up for it! I have a few other fics planned and I’m hoping that this productive streak continues

Tagging:

@cretaceous-therapod @morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @live-the-fangirl-life @charlizeed @violet-mermaid7 @euphoric-melancholyy @kritical24 @rubyriveraqueen @dealfea @wellofnothing @ayaashryver @moonknight-spector @leiawritesstories @whoever-you-choose-to-love @holdthefrickup @heirofflowers @thecrispypotatochip @shanias-world @rowanaelinn @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @hanging-from-a-cliff @fantacysoup @swankii-art-teacher @thegreyj @fromthelibraryofemilyj @westofmoon @lovely-dove-zee @books4eva04 @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @backtobl4ck @dreamer-133 @elentiyawhitethorn @writtenonreceipts @shyvioletcat @aelinchocolatelover @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @athena127

[viperwhispered]

I was in the shower and I was struck by the blessed lightning of creativity! Behold the results:

Can we agree that determination is very sexy and that confident Scarabia is the best? Like both are stuck in seemingly inescapable situations and are understandably feeling pretty hopeless despite their character development and healing so far. But what if they had just the right amount of character development and be in just the right circumstances to go from "the best I can do is make things easier" to "i will overhaul this entire dumpster fire and nobody will stop me"

Lets set the scene: its been months since ch4. There has been leagues made in progress. Kalim and Jamil are genuine friends now and both have expanded their social circles so they're not codependant on each other and have learned to figure out who to trust. Both have had the fortune to find love. But graduation is looming. Though they still have another two years, it doesn't shake the feeling that the safe haven they've found would be coming to an end far too soon.

Jamil: He's noticed his beloved is not recieving the treatment they deserve and he hates it. They're still stuck in that rickety old dorm at the mercy of that incompetant inconsiderate headmaster and barely anyone outside of their immediate (yet large) social circle acknowledges all they've done for them. Damn ungrateful brats!

Jamil wants nothing more than to take them away and give them the happy life they deserve. He knows his family can do it, they're not poor by any means. But he also knows he cannot take them back to his homeland. He's made his own share of enemies, ranging from assassins who think dealing with him will make dealing with Kalim easier to grudge holders wanting him dead for interfering with their plans.

He's conflicted. He knows it won't be easy even with Kalim's support. Frankly he wonders if it would even be worth it? But then Jamil turns to gaze at his beloved, who lovingly smiles back and asks about his day. They stopped by Sam's, using some leftovers from their meager funds to get some of Jamil's favorite snacks that happened to be on sale. Yet Jamil also notices the fatigue and the light bruises. Apparently that stupid crow is overworking them again and there is a faction of students who don't appreciate all the attention his beloved is recieving.

Fuck it! Kalim better keep his damn promise cause Jamil's leaving whether he likes it or not! Jamil is going to find success and take his dearest across the world and find a nice calm place to settle. There he's going to build a nice beautiful home where all will be calm and quiet and they'll never have to worry about anything ever again. Not money, not poisoning, NOTHING! And anyone who DARES disturb them, Jamil will make them rue the day they were born!

Kalim: Ever since he started finding other coping mechanisms, Kalim had been noticing a lot of things. It hurt having to face reality, but he knew it was necessary. But recently, he's been noticing some curious things. Despite being amongst the many nobles who attend the school, Kalim is the only one who is constantly paranoid about poison. Leona and Malleus never bothered, nor have any other royal classmates. While this could be because Leona was Leona and Malleus was too powerful for normal poison, Kalim still asked Professor Trein about it. A few hours a of research later and Kalim came across a curious situation: poisonings of royalty and nobility rarely happened outside the Scalding Sands.

Which brought Kalim to another question: why? What about his homeland made it so dangerous for people to have a modicum of power?

Kalim relays this to his lover later that day. They agree its curious and that its worth investigating. Kalim interjects saying they shouldn't waste their time with this silly question when they're already so busy with the stupid crow's endless requests and the dorms' drama. They simply smile and ask what sort of lover would they be if they left Kalim to stew all by himself. And then an ugly realization rears its head again: if they were to marry him, they would live the rest of their lives in fear for themselves and any children they have.

Unacceptable! If Leona and Malleus can build happy families of their own when they're more powerful, then Kalim should also be able to. Kalim is going to find out exactly what is wrong with his homeland and fix it so that nobody has to worry about poison ever again. He'll do it even if it takes the rest of his life. In the meantime, Kalim will become strong. Strong enough to protect his dearest, Jamil, his siblings, and everyone else under him. Kalim will do BETTER than his ancestors, so help him God!

Oh yes, determination and confidence is absolutely sexy. (And considering how much I feel this post about ruthlessness whenever it crosses my dash...)

Awww that Jamil bit tho 🥺 I’ve said this before, but I do believe the people close to him are really important to Jamil. Like, in book 4, the thing holding him back was his concern for the consequences to his family (at least in the jp version), when elsewhere (like glomas) we’ve seen he’s not bothered at all using other people for his own benefit. So for his s/o to be (an extra) motivation for him to change things, not just for himself but for both of them… Oh, yes please, and it’s got my heart all warm and fuzzy.

Basically yes absolutely give me determined, confident, even ruthless Jamil fueled not just by his own wants but by his love, too.

That’s an interesting (and very valid) angle for Kalim, though. Like, iirc, his family is not even rulers per se (tho there might’ve been some line of some relation to whoever rules the Scalding Sands? Can’t remember but Yuurei’s character summaries probably would have info on that), just so ridiculously rich that they have such vast influence that it’s tempting - as if the Asims don’t have enough wealth to go around to all the kids.

I do love the idea of Kalim wanting to do this to basically “save” everyone, though. It’s so him. Like it’s not just about him or his partner, but the rest of his family and everyone else, too. Very ambitious of him to set out to effect such huge change like that, but so precious, too.

[gloryandgrace]

****TW: mentions of skin scrubbing (no blood), over-stimulation, and non-speaking episodes (idk if you need to warn for that but just in case)****

*Takes place following the previous interaction with @lauterishotter*

[The sound of Steph’s car’s engine revving up breaks through Grace’s thoughts. She grips the doorknob forcefully and slams the door shut, finding comfort in the satisfying click of the latch pushing into place. She’s safe again. She’s shut out temptation. This is her Eden.]

{But even Eden wasn’t safe from the devil’s work. You know that, Grace.}

[A broken sob slips through the apparent blockage in her throat and her hand instinctively claps to her mouth, clawing her lips and cheeks closed so as to not disturb the serene silence that’s settled over the Chasity home. Hot tears of shame roll down her face as she stumbles away from the door, carelessly grasping at the hem of her sweater to tear the offending item from her body and free her airways once more.]

{You’re fine. You’re going to be fine. You just need to repent for what you’ve done and everything will be okay. You’re a good girl.}

[The garment forgotten on the entryway floor, she stumbles through her bedroom door and into the ensuite bathroom, inhaling desperately as her throat continues to tighten. She steadies herself on shaking limbs against the porcelain sink, the crucifix necklace hanging from her neck obscured by the tears pooling in her vision. Grace squeezes her eyes shut, mouthing a prayer, an apology, in spite of her current loss of speech. She knows that The Lord can hear her; He always can. Even when she doesn’t want Him to.]

[Looking up into the mirror, she’s met with a pitiful sight; she’s there, hair unbrushed, standing in nothing but yesterday's jeans and a bathing suit top, with her face red, splotchy, and streaming with tears. Her breath hitches at the dark lipstick smeared across her forehead like a sinner’s Lenten ashes. A cruel reminder of her failure to resist temptation.]

{Pathetic.}

[Frantically, she yanks the sink handle hard to the left. The screech of rushing water fills the room as Grace dunks a washcloth into the stream and begins rapidly scrubbing the evidence of her transgressions from her skin. She whines involuntarily as her forehead turns red and raw against the harsh scour of the cloth but she persists nonetheless. She needs to be cleansed. In this moment, she’s ridding herself not just of the lipstick but of the lust it represents; the lust that has seeped through her skin and permeated her very soul. Made her unclean.]

[Hellfire is licking at her fingertips.]

[Forcefully, she’s brought back to her senses. Her hand recoils from the torrent of water and she drops the washcloth with a hiss, drawing the fist protectively to her chest. The lower half of the mirror has fogged over and steam coils lazily from the faucet as it dispels scalding hot water into the basin below. With a watery, frustrated sigh, she turns off the sink and meets her reflection once more. She wonders if everyone else can see the sin on her face; the imprint of Steph’s lips which stands out so clearly to her despite the dark kiss having long since been washed away.]

{You’re fudged, Grace… No.} 

{You’re fucked.}

[By the time she’s regained the energy to leave the bathroom, 45 minutes have passed since Steph’s departure and Grace’s jaw twinges painfully from her insistent stream of voiceless prayers. Exhausted, she drags her feet back to her bedroom and cautiously pulls on a hoodie after loosening the drawstring neck entirely. With a dull ache spreading through her limbs, Grace wanders down to the kitchen where her parents now clatter about noisily, going about their morning routines.] 

[Hearing his daughter descend the stairs, Mark Chasity greets her cheerily but the smile swiftly drops off his face as he lowers his newspaper to be met with Grace’s distressed expression. She’s made no effort to hide her emotions; she couldn’t even if she wanted to. Controlling her face has never been one of her strong suits.]

“Sunshine?”

[Karen turns at her husband’s concerned tone, moving toward Grace upon sighting her puffy eyes but she halts her motion as the girl steps back in apprehension of her mother’s touch.]

“Oh, Gracie. What’s the matter?”

[Karen asks dotingly. Fresh tears escape Grace’s eyes and she shakes her head, wringing her hands anxiously in front of her while rocking softly on her feet. The elder Chasitys share a knowing look and Karen begins again in a much softer voice.]

“Is today a quiet day?”

[Grace sniffles and nods, wiping at her eyes with one hand as the other moves to grip her side in a self-soothing hug.]

“That’s okay, pumpkin.”

[Her father reassures gently and pats the seat next to him, pulling it out for Grace to sit. Climbing onto the wooden chair, she pulls her knees to her chest in a disrespect that would not have been tolerated were it not for the extenuating circumstances. She tucks her head against herself and stares absently at the kitchen tile, trying to stop her tears.]

[Across the room, Karen does what she always does on days like this, she phones the school and tells them that Grace has come down with the flu, excusing her absence but sparing her dignity. She ditches the breakfast that she had been preparing, setting aside only enough for herself and Mark before retrieving Grace’s favourite peach yogurt from the fridge and plating a bowl for the girl. It was going to be a long day.]

[It carries out as expected, Mark goes to work, albeit only with reassurance from his wife that she has everything under control, and Karen sets into their routine. She runs Grace a bath which the girl remains in for a borderline-concerning amount of time, she turns the music that she plays while cleaning the house down low, she makes Grace small, simple snacks instead of meals, and she keeps her hands to herself unless Grace seeks her out. And she does; after changing into a soft pair of loose pajamas following her bath, the girl seems to swing rapidly between wanting to sit alone in the dark of her bedroom closet which she has transformed into a makeshift blanket nest, and clinging to Karen’s side as if her life depended on it. But throughout it all, Grace remains completely silent, both in-person and online as she had quickly shut off her phone after the first message from Steph came through asking her where she was.]

{She’s never going to talk to you again after this. I hope you liked having friends for one whole day.}

[The following two days are much of the same, Grace sleeps in her parents' bed, Karen calls the school, Grace ignores her phone, and she spends the days rocking on the floor of her closet with her hands over her ears or curled between her parents as they recite the Bible aloud so that she can give her eyes a rest from seeing. Everything is too much, everything hurts, and Grace thinks for a moment that maybe she deserves this.]

{You know how it goes, Gracie. You sinned, you lusted, and after a girl of all people. You’re being punished because The Lord loves you and knows you can be better than this. You have to be.}

//ooc: whoops admin basically just wrote fanfic and hurt their own feelings by making Grace sad. Sorry if this sucks! I haven't written stuff like this before!

Also, in my head, Grace's parents don't know that she's autistic necessarily so they wouldn't have the language to describe that she has gone non-speaking but it's happened in the past and they've learned how to handle it so they just call it a 'quiet day'

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip extracts are fun and you should try it!

Helloooo, I got tagged by @rosette-dragonborn for a wip extract! Thanks for the tag. Tagging- @thequeenofthewinter @archangelsunited @saltymaplesyrup @throughtrialbyfire I have a lot in the editing bay at the moment but currently, I'm going through some Sleepers Awake chapters. Here's a bit from Chapter Five- A Fresh Start Or Teldryn finds himself in a Dwemer ruin and takes some shit.

Teldryn smiled to himself as he looked at the ancient shelves that sat in front of him. He wondered if this was some sort of workshop or storeroom. It had been a long time since he’d read anything about the ancient cities of the Dwemer, though he’d been obsessed with it as a kid. He just never had the opportunity to read much over the last few decades-obviously. Though he still remembered enough to know he was staring at the parts of one of their fantastical constructs. Eroded with time as they were. He wondered what would happen if he cleaned them, what was underneath all that green crust? Was it still a polished brass like he’d read about or did these things just leave like- a cast of gunk behind after they disintegrated into nothing? Teldryn chewed his lip as he stared at two tubes about the length of his finger and what he knew was some sort of gear or cog. Teldryn snatched all three objects from the shelf and put them into his bag alongside the puzzle cube that he needed to bring back to old Antabolis at the Fighters Guild. This was his first ‘official’ mission from that old skooma addict who was apparently now his new fucking warden! The old fuck had been breathing down his neck since he’d first been dragged into fucking Balmora! Every little thing he did seemed to earn him a scalding. Even how he spent his time off! He’d taken on membership with the Fighters Guild like Cosades suggested and got chided for being rude to the local bitch at arms. Fuck! It wasn’t his fault the woman was an absolute cunt! Teldryn took a deep breath and reached for one of the bottles of matze that he’d bought along with him. He’d be fine downing some now, right? He’d cleared pretty much everything that had posed a threat on his way through here. He wouldn’t need to fight on his way out, and besides he craved the blissful cloud it gave his thoughts. He’d been craving it a lot lately. Teldryn shrugged and took a good drink before resealing the bottle and dumping it back into his pack. Honestly, fuck it! Cosades would yell at him for sneezing wrong in here knowing his luck! Teldryn started to make his way out of the small room where he’d found the puzzle cube. Exiting back out into the colossal main chamber of the Dwemeri ruin of Arkngthand. He supposed this conscription thing hadn’t been all bad. Sure, he was under constant supervision when he was in town, as always, and he was stuck working with some bitch who he was quite certain ran with the Camonna Tong. Sent him on what looked like glorified hits. Made him nervous honestly, but it could be so much worse. He’d been through so much worse. At least he was allowed to keep up the appearance of being free. He was allowed to carry gold and weaponry. He could sleep in a bed and eat something that wasn’t watered-down barley gruel. Fuck! He could almost fool himself into thinking he was free sometimes until he’d catch one of Cosades’ informants watching him from a distance. Beady-eyed little fuckers the lot of them!

[fiyero3305]

TUA Fic: Witchy Prompts 08

Witchy Prompts via @myloveforhergoeson

08. Infected

Something weird is happening to Alphonso. In his health lessons he learned to expect that his body would be changing with puberty, but among the various symptoms, none of them ever mentioned that his skin would begin melting and drooping off his body.

It was subtle at first, just a small wrinkle under his chin. He didn’t think anything of it, then that wrinkle grew, and began to dangle, and he started pulling up the collar of his shirt and tying the knot of his necktie extra thick to try to cover it up. There were no lotions or ointments in the house so he tried washing it vigorously with soap and water. Hot water. Scalding water. Multiple times a day. Anything to get the rash or whatever it was to stop spreading, but it was no use. With anxious, fearful eyes he watched in the mirror as the infected area grew daily. Once a patch the size of his palm began to resemble melted cheese he finally did the unthinkable and sought his father’s help.

Standing in the entryway of Reginald’s office, Alphonso sees his father writing in his journal and cross-referencing with previous entries. There are never good times to address Reginald Hargreeves, but during his journaling was maybe the worst. Still, Alphonso summons his courage and knocks on the polished mahogany door frame.

“Dad?”

The man looks up from his journal.

“Number 04, if this is about the condition of your neck which you so ineffectively attempt to obscure with your collar, I have neither the time nor the desire to discuss it. You are not ill; it is not dangerous; and it cannot be stopped.”

Alphonso is not surprised by the dismissal, and crushing news dealt with cold detachment from his father is just standard procedure, but he can’t help himself. “What is it though?”

“I have given you all the information you need to move on. I have already expressed that I will not be discussing the matter, so any further questioning will be considered insubordination and punished as such.”

Fucking hell. Alphonso thinks as he rolls his eyes and walks away. He loosens his tie on the way back to his room since it’s apparently not doing any good. He slams his bedroom door behind him and belly flops onto his mattress, face buried in his pillow. In a matter of minutes his door opens and he knows it’s Jayme before he even hears her voice.

“Hey, I brought a sash and crown for the drama queen”

“Fuck off, Jayme” he says into the pillow.

“Aww, come on, you’ve earned it! It takes a lot to steal this title from Benny Bitch but you’ve proven that you’re the current reigning��

“Just leave me alone”

He hears her walk across the hardwood floor and feels her sit at the foot of the bed. “No, see that’s what I’ve been doing for the past two weeks waiting for you to get your shit together but it hasn’t worked, so time for a tactical shift. I’m guessing this is about your neck thing?” That makes him sit up. “You could see?” She nods, and he feels himself deflate.

So everyone knew. Everyone saw what was happening and saw him trying to hide it and Ben, Marcus, and Fei were probably already working out ways to use it against him the next time he spars against them. He pulls his knees to his chest.

“So what is it?”

“I don’t know! Dad does, apparently, but he wouldn’t tell me anything about it except that it’s not deadly and it’s going to get worse”

“Worse how?”

“I don’t know. Bigger, I guess. It’s already spread since I first noticed it”

“Like, you’re gonna get full Phantom of the Opera face?” He doesn’t know, so he just shrugs. “That’s so cool!”

“Cool? Are you kidding me?”

“No dude, think about it. We’re freakin’ gods among men. We shouldn’t have to look like them, we should be inspiring fear and awe the second they see us”

Alphonso considers Jayme’s words. She paints an interesting scenario.

“That’s easy to say when you’re not the one becoming a monster”

“Dude I wish I were! Maybe I’ll get scales… or fangs! Imagine me totally snaked out, that’d be sick as hell”

In spite of himself, Alphonso cracks a smile and huffs out a single laugh.

“Seriously though, Phonse, you gotta find a way to own this. You’ve been too mopey lately and I need my partner in crime to get through this shitshow of a family”

“True. No way you could survive these assholes without me”

Alphonso laughs, and Jayme joins in.

“For real though, you good?”

Jayme holds out her hand and Alphonso gives it three claps and a pinkie lock in confirmation.

[spaceumbredoggos]

So Much for Stardust Chapter Twenty Five

Mabel’s Point of View:

Kenz was glaring at Ford, hiding in the pillows on the couch. They turned their back towards Hailey angrily. Grunkle Stan walked into the room, taking a sip of his beer. “Damn.” Stan grabbed his phone and started scrolling through old instagram posts. I looked over at his shoulder, noticing that the username was from some of Kenz’s family. A lot of those instagram posts were of Kenz and Hailey when they were kids. They showed how close they were. Damn indeed.

I walked back into the living room. Kenz was fighting against sleep, gazing at their cousin. They gazed at the wound in their chest. “If I wasn’t there, would Hails have died?” They muttered to themself, coughing up phlegm. Hailey turned around, grabbing her phone. “Hey, Hailey?”

“Oh. Hi Mabel.” Hailey’s voice was friendly, unlike the typical grumpiness of Kenz’s voice. “I have to get going back to my cabin. Goose and Rooster, my two labs, must be wondering where I am.”

“Wait. Before you go. Can you answer me a question?” I pulled up the old instagram posts on my phone. “Is it true that you and Kenz used to be close?”

“Oh. I mean, well yeah. But Kenz knows more about that than I do. I don’t remember a lot about our childhood. Kenz can remember every single detail about every single family trip we went on. Their mind is like a steel trap. It’s impressive.” Hailey chuckled, turning to the door. “But it’s getting late. And there’s a really bad storm coming.”

“A bad storm?”

“Apparently, there’s some crazy thunderclouds in the sky. The news says there’s a tornado watch in effect, but Stan says that’s not gonna happen.” Hailey looked really guilty. “I mean I guess I can stay here. My roommate’s with my dogs. I guess I can stay until the storm passes.”

“Yay!!!” I tried to restrain myself from bouncing up and down. Hailey walked up to her cousin, who was scrolling through Pinterest again. “Hey Kenz. Guess what.”

“What?”

“Hailey’s spending the night.” Kenz didn’t seem too pleased to hear the news. “Mabel. You can’t just invite people to come over.”

“You’re stuck with me regardless, grumpy pants.” Kenz furiously put their phone down and stood up, walking toward the vending machine. “You’re not getting away from us that easily.”

“I have to check on Dipper!!” But they collapsed on the ground in pain. “Fuck!!! My chest. It hurts.”

“Let me carry you back to the living room.” I picked them up, carrying them to the couch. “SLUMBER PARTY!!!”

“Boo.” Kenz grouched, hiding into the couch cushions and refusing to look at their cousin. “Oh no. You’re not grouching your way out of this one.” Hailey picked them up from behind the couch cushions. ���Since when did you lose so much weight? And are those stretch marks?”

“I am not gonna answer that.”

“My guess is that they gained a lot of winter weight and due to circumstances I’m sure they’ll gladly tell you about, they lost all of it and then some.” I noticed Kenz scramble out of Hailey’s grasp and bolt towards the bathroom. They locked the door and turned on the shower. “I’m not sure a shower is a good idea with your stitches.”

“Mabel, I smell like I cleaned myself with cat pee. I’m not leaving this bathroom until the stink is gone.” Kenz turned on their Spotify playlist, which was on “I’m Not Okay I Promise” by My Chemical Romance.

“Nice to see that my cousin listens to Emo music along with the hair dye job.” Hailey rolled her eyes as Kenz started to sing along. “I’m not okay. I’m not Okaaaaaaaaaaayaaaaaaay!!!!”

“Kenz! You’re shaking the house.” I rolled my eyes as Hailey bolted to the kitchen. “Hey. I got an idea.” She grabbed some ice from the fridge and put it in a bucket with some cold water. “Isn’t the door to the bathroom locked?”

“I’ve got a credit card.” Hailey picked the lock with her credit card and barged into the bathroom with the bucket of ice water. The shower was steamy and baking hot. “Since when did Kenz take such scalding hot showers?”

“Shhh.” Hailey drenched Kenz in the bucket of ice cold water, causing them to scream. “WHAT THE FUCK HAILEY?!!!”

“Gotcha!!!” Hailey bolted out of the bathroom at Mach 2 speed, fleeing from the scene of the crime. Kenz finished up their shower, put on a pair of pajamas, and bolted out of the bathroom mad as a hornet. They crouched down behind the couch, grabbing a spider. “Haaaaaaiiiiiiillllleeeeeyyyyy!!!!!”

Hailey was laughing her ass off on the couch. Kenz dropped the spider on Hailey, causing her to bolt. Kenz laughed, only to collapse to the ground. They froze on the ground, their eyes rolling back. The spider crawled out of their hand to its web. Blood trickled down Kenz’s nose.

Hailey bolted to them, trying to shake them awake. “The lake will run red with the blood of kin.” Kenz muttered in their fit, breathing harshly. They twitched again. “Fire. Fire everywhere. Fire caused by blood.”

“Kenz, get ahold of yourself. You’re not making sense.” Hailey grabbed her cousin’s shoulders. Kenz seemed to calm down at first, but drew their gaze away from Hailey. “This won’t be the first storm of the season. Nor will it be the last.” Kenz coughed, shaking and trembling. Their eyes were glossy and glazed, clearly showing how sick they have become. Blood pooled from their mouth as they wiped it off. “Kenz. It’s okay.”

“It’s not!!!” Kenz shoved Hailey away, bolting before collapsing a few steps forward. “Oww… Everything hurts.” Kenz shivered, trying to walk some more. “Kenz. You need to rest.” Hailey and I bolted up to Kenz, carrying them to the couch. Their body was too limp to fight back. I tucked Kenz in, giving them some tea to soothe their throat and their mind. “Can I talk to you for a sec, Mabel?” Hailey had a look of concern on her face. “Sure.”

We went into the gift shop. “Is it just me, or does Kenz seem off.” Hailey sighed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I knew that they were grumpy. And mad at Uncle for some reason. But they seem mad at me. And they seem mad at everyone. But at the same time, they didn’t hesitate to save my life. Also, they’ve never had a fit like that before. Where they ramble about fire, storms and blood. I know they have bad dreams. Heck, they used to complain to me about them all the time.”

“I think we should involve Ford in on this. He seems to know about what’s going on with Kenz better than I do.”

“Is it true that they were kidnapped by a gang of feral cats?” Hailey seemed to doubt the words that came out of her mouth. “This town is weird, Hailey. I wouldn’t put it past the cats.”

“This town is too weird.” Hailey looked to the side. “They should be with their family. Even though they transform into that weird monster thing.”

“Believe me. They want to be with their family, but they can’t leave the town. Again, ask Ford about that. He knows a lot more about the science than I do.” I suddenly heard a crash come from the living room. “Fuck!!!”

“I recognize that sweary scream anywhere.” Hailey burst into the living room. Kenz was gone, and there was a gaping hole in the wall. Muddy paw prints littered the carpet as well as spits of blood. Parts of Kenz’s shirt was torn and scattered around the living room floor. A wind blew in through the hole, bringing rain and hail. “Kenz shouldn’t be out in a storm like this.”

Hailey took off running into the thick of the storm, cocking their hunting gun. “Hailey, wait! We don’t know what’s out there.” I chased after Hailey, grabbing her attention. “To the golf cart.”

I started up the golf cart, taking off into the storm. I followed the paw prints in the mud, which were now accompanied by chunks of black fur and skin covered in electric blue blood. “What the hell?”

I suddenly got a phone call from Ford. “Hey Great Uncle Ford.”

“Did you see the hole in the living room?”

“Kenz got themself into trouble again.”

“WHAT?!!”

“He sounds super pissed.” Hailey had an “oh shit” look on her face. “We encountered a shape shifter earlier today. That’s how Kenz got the massive wound on their chest.”

“Lemme guess. Hero complex? Didn’t seem to get the message that you had a gun?”

“Wait what?” Hailey seemed confused. “Kenz has a tendency to get themself into situations where they put other people over themself, often with near fatal consequences.”

“That doesn’t sound like Kenz at all.” Hailey looked extremely puzzled. “Do I really know Kenz? How much have they changed since they left?” I heard Hailey mutter out loud. “The Kenz I know would sacrifice their friends for their phone in a heartbeat.”

“Hailey. How much do you know about your cousin.” Ford’s question seemed to rock Hailey’s world. “I mean we were really close as kids. But I don’t remember a lot from that time.”

Tornado sirens blared as the golf cart got blown off track. I grabbed onto the phone as Hailey held onto her gun. “Has Kenz been selflessly fighting monsters and getting themself hurt this entire time?” Worry consumed Hailey’s face as we followed the tracks to a particularly beat up abandoned section of the town. The earth was torn and drenched from the storm. Splinters of shrapnel littered the ground. The splatters of electric blue blood were getting more numerous as I heard an ungodly blood-curdling shriek.

Kenz was thrown across the clearing against a broken church. Glass shattered, making an ugly noise. Kenz coughed and stood up, turning around to face the shapeshifter, who was nowhere to be found.

“Kenz!!! What are you doing?” Hailey rushed up to her cousin, who was couching up electric blue blood and bits of glass. “Kenz!!!”

They furiously turned around and pounced on Hailey, teeth bared. Hailey cocked the gun and shot them, throwing them back. The bullet went into Kenz’s skull. They fell still, bleeding badly from the wound on their head. “Wait, that wasn’t the shapeshifter, wasn’t it?”

Another Kenz bolted through the shadows, snarling and pinning Hailey down. For several tense moments, they wrestled. “Wait, who are you? Who did I just kill?”

The Kenz that was shot stood up as if rising from the dead, a sharp stick in their mouth. Hailey and the other Kenz disappeared behind a building somewhere.

“Kenz!!! How did you survive the bullet?”

“It fucking hurts. But I’m somewhat bulletproof. Fuck!!! Wait. Hailey? Where are you?”

A train-like roar echoed through the clearing. A still tornado was blowing in the distance. Kenz noticed it, the fear setting in their eyes. “MABEL!!! GO HOME AND SEEK SHELTER!!!”

“WHAT?!!”

“IF A TORNADO DOESN’T LOOK LIKE IT’S MOVING, THEN IT’S HEADING STRAIGHT TOWARDS YOU!!!” The stick fell out of Kenz’s mouth and got caught into the wind. A metal wire was wrapped around Kenz’s neck, choking them. “MABEL!!! RUN!!!” They yelped, being choked by the snare around their neck. The snare got blown into a tree, which fell down from the wind. Kenz fought to release themself from the snare, but to no avail. I rushed up to Kenz, who was panicking and watching Hailey scrap with the shapeshifter, who had turned into her. “Augh!!! Help!!!” Kenz bucked and flailed wildly, choking themself more on the snare. Finally, they found the stake that held the snare. “Mabel, if you can get that stake… it’s right there…”

I rushed forward, only to be knocked back by the wind. The two Hailey’s wrestled into the broken tree. Shots fired as one of the Hailey’s got the gun from the other. “KENZ HELP!!!”

“HAILEY!!!” Hailey was being choked by the butt of the gun by the other Hailey. Something flashed in Kenz’s eye as they managed to grab the stake from the tangle of branches. They rushed up to the Hailey who was choking the other Hailey and stabbed her in the throat with the stake. Blood pooled as the other Hailey smirked, the horror plastering itself on Kenz’s face. “NO NO NO NO NO NO!!!!! HAILEY!!!”

[cheshiresandhearts]

The Monster Within

What have I become?

It hasn't been that long since Junko started assisting the militants. With the third and final rule of their utopia being "Death To All Traitors" the militants have been hard at work maintaining that rule, and on occasion before the traitors can revive death, they must give the militants answers. That's when aguni asked Junko to step in, asking the oldest chishiya to interrogate the prisoners seeing as niragi and his crew preferred to just beat the shit out of them without getting information. She was making her way down the hall to the room she had been asked to visit, apparently a traitor was caught trying to leave the beach and it's assumed he had others helping him. Niragi stopped her right as she went to open the door, giving her a look over before scoffing and opening the door for her. Junko made a mental note of the gesture, he normally would just ignore her, or try to taunt her the same as he does with her little brother. She shook her head to focus before the threats that were made against him can shuffle in, she wouldn't be doing this job unless she had to. She stood in front of the traitor, clipboard in hand as she began the interrogation.

After about three hours end and Junko still had nothing to show for it, niragi's constant teasing about her failure was not helping with her frustration. She can feel the anxiety and anger starting to itch at the back of her brain, threatening to creep out and consume her. She stepped out of the room, hoping some fresh air will help repel the feeling. She was just about to breath a sigh of relief when she heard the door opening and closing behind her, there was only one person it could be. He chuckled and she didn't have to turn around to see the smirk on his face,"you really are all bark and no bite aren't you 'princess'." He clicked his tongue, extenuating the horrid nickname he refuses to stop calling her. She let it show it getting under her skin once and now he won't fucking shut up with it. She took a deep breath, the crimson anger refusing to ebb away from the edges of her brain. She was about to turn around and just hand in a blank report to aguni when an arm dropped across her shoulders. Junko stiffened, not accustomed to casual touch let alone from someone not Shuntaro. She would have pushed him off and left like she originally intended, she would have. But then niragi whispered something in her ear. Something that let her walls crumble and the frustration of the interrogation infect her mind and senses 'Stop Holding Back'. She let niragi lead her back into the room, fingers gently gracing the rusted barbed wire that was being kept locked in here before it's current use. She pulled out her pair of leather gloves, securing them on her hands before picking up the barbed wire, continuing the interrogation.

Only thirty minutes later, Junko handed in the information report, the unfortunate death of the traitor tagged at the bottom as the after thought, she was silent the entire time even as she made her way back to her room. She turned the shower on setting the water to nearly scalding, she sat herself on the shower floor, right under the spray and began to cry. It didn't take long for her sobs to shift into laughter as well, it was a horrid broken sound. She felt disgusted with herself. Not for what she just did to that man, not for snapping at niragi for ending his life with mercy, she was disgusted with how she felt when that man's life was in her hands, she was disgusted as how free and relieved she felt. She's terrified to feel that way again.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Stick Season (9/14)

Summary: After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.

A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe

Tropes/Genres: Angst, Reconciliation, Grief, Alcoholism, Mentions of Major Character Death, Mental Health

Track 1: Northern Attitude // Day 9: Same Old Country Song

Words: 1162

Kurt has forgotten how to be a fucking human being, apparently.

He wants Blaine, loves Blaine, never stopped loving Blaine. Kurt wants him close so dearly, but can’t help except push him away. It’s infuriating.

He wants what they used to have, the waves of security that washed over Kurt whenever he was nestled safely in Blaine’s arms. He wants the laughter shared through inside jokes, like how Let’s have a Star Wars marathon actually meant Let’s dip and go make out in your room. Kurt wants everything to go back to the way it was, but that isn’t possible.

He’s not the person he used to be. There’s been efforts on his part, to get back to who he was before bitterness jaded him into the cynic he is today. He quit drinking, and though he’s fallen off the wagon a few times, it’s been nearly half a year since his last sip. A few stumbles, however, were to be expected when he didn’t really stop to better himself, but out of guilt and shame. 

If you were to put shame into a petri dish and shove it into the dark and damp crevasses of your mind, anxiety would grow on it like a deadly fungus. Everyone thinks that only depressed people turn to the bottle, but Kurt’s nerves prove otherwise. A coping mechanism is a coping mechanism even if you think you’re just a kid who gets a little too nervous in large crowds. It’s a coping mechanism when you think you’re just having fun with some friends. It’s a coping mechanism when you take a sip because you’re stressed about school, and wake up face down on your boyfriend's lawn.

It’s a coping mechanism even when you insist it isn’t.

He’s changing. He’s trying. Fuck, is he trying.

But what if it’s not enough? 

What if, after the last year, Kurt’s soul is missing the shine that was there before grief dulled it? Blaine would be foolish to want him back when he’s this broken.

If Kurt gets too close and he isn’t how Blaine remembers—how he hopes—he’d have every right to just up and walk away. Kurt can’t even forgive himself, how can he expect Blaine to forgive the old attitude he’s adopted after spending a year in the dark?

So why the hell is he here, standing out in the cold and staring at Blaine’s familiar figure, playing the guitar through the frosted windows of the Paper Tiger? 

He’s in the middle of a set, so Kurt is able to sneak in without distracting him, feeling the winter chill thaw, like just being around Blaine lights a fire in him.

He plays some cover about gay cowboys that Kurt can’t help but smile at. The crowd is a little less receptive, but not angry or outraged, which honestly is about as much progress as Kurt could have ever hoped for.

Blaine looks so happy, so in his element here. Despite what he may think, from what Kurt can see, he’s better off without him. 

He should leave. Again. Go farther this time, and maybe he won’t be such a nuisance, such an unpleasant disruption to Blaine’s healing process. What the hell is Kurt even doing here, in a bar, when he's feeling so, so anxious and there are so many people and they’re all drinking around him and god, he wishes that were him, he wishes he could just have one drink—just one, and maybe the raging fire scalding his nerves would be doused for even just a seco—

“Alright, so, I know you guys usually like my covers of the classics.”

Blaine’s voice cuts through all the noise, and for the first time in too long, the static in Kurt’s brain is silenced. 

“But, uh… I’m gonna play something original for you tonight. It’s a really special song to me. It uh, started off as an anniversary present that I never got to give, and over the past year has morphed into something totally different and unexpected but uh… You know what? I think I’ll shut up and just sing for you.”

When the audience’s laughter settles, Blaine starts plucking at his guitar’s strings, and Kurt prepares himself for the worst. Sure he’s about to bear the brunt of all the anger and confusion he’d caused in Blaine’s life. Leaving lima, then showing up at his house. Their conversation at Sam’s party, and Kurt leaving. Again. 

Kurt forces himself to stay, smothering the cowardly little voice in his mind that wants so terribly to leave. He should hear what Blaine has to say, even if it hurts.

You try covering the cracks in your walls with paint But I love staring at them so beautifully shaped Everyday I wish you’d see what I could see And your hand in mine fits so perfectly

I’ll never want a new lease I’ll never trade you in You’re the home that I want Perfectly imperfect

I’ll come home to you I’ll come home to you

Even though you’re gone I’ll leave the light on Hopefully you can see The path back to me

I’ll never want a new lease I’ll never trade you in You’re the home that I want Perfectly imperfect

I’ll come home to you I’ll come home to you

You try covering the cracks in your walls with paint But I love staring at them so beautifully shaped

It’s not what Kurt expected, and he swallows down the lump in his throat. He’ll be damned if he breaks down in the middle of a bar full of strangers.

Watching Blaine pack up his set, Kurt pulls out his phone and goes to his recents, knowing all the calls he’s been dodging from Blaine will be at the top.

“Hello?”

“Blaine?” 

On the other side of the room, Blaine freezes, and Kurt’s heart goes still. “Hi.”

“Hi…” He repeats dumbly. Because he’s an idiot. He’s forgotten how to human. Still, he hasn’t forgotten how to love Blaine. That’s something etched into his heart forever. “You at Paper Tiger?”

“Yeah, just finishing up, actually.”

“How did your set go?”

“About as well received as it can be in a town like this. No one heckled me to try and play Wonderwall, so, progress.”

Kurt can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I really liked that last one,” He finally admits. “The one about home being a person.”

Blaine smiles, and even if there’s a trace of sadness behind it, Kurt’s heart swells. “Thanks… Full disclosure, uh, you’re the inspiration on that one.” He pauses, apparently barely processing Kurt’s words. “Wait. What do you mean you liked it?”

“Turn around.”

Blaine turns around in a flash, dropping his phone from his ear to his side and staring in awe.

Kurt swallows. “Hi… again.”

“Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

[noneatnonedotcom]

Somewhere on a Train

You are Jaune Miles Arc and you’re on a train surrounded by men far more experienced than you who have fought through both bloody battles in Kansas and Mexico both veterans who know the art of war and have been perfecting it longer than you’ve been alive.

And the fact that they’re all listening to you is weird enough but for the last week or so the only question on your mind has been… why the fuck are you on a train!? THE PLAN CALLED FOR STEELING A BOAT! HOW DID YOU FUCK THIS UP SO BAD?

It started in New Orleans when one of the men got distracted by a … lady of the night, and you had to get him out of trouble before he got the entire rebel army down on your head. While talking your way out of that the very helpful lady explained where all the military hardware was and where you should take yourself and men to join up with the rest of the rebs. While there you saw pretty much everything they had being loaded onto a train that looked like an ironclad and you were about to call off the mission as being too dangerous when the powder at the warehouse touched off and your men took it as you signal to attack.

The next couple of minutes were a desperate dash to the head of the train cutting through men all the way

(a splash of something almost scalding hot was on your face as the desperate eyes of a man looking into your)

And then you were riding away in a train with all the rebel’s supplies.

But it didn’t stop there, word got around to the other forts that you were getting the hell out of the south, their commanders sent riders to you as you were loading up the ordinance of your own fort and Marcus handled setting up the meet-up point while you “supervised the men” managing to catch a rebel who’d been hiding in the back of the train since you left.

Poor guy, you felt bad so you let him go, apparently he was talking you up back in New Orleans because you were now a military genius or something. He did say you were fourteen though so he could go fuck himself.

Your mom would absolutely tan your hide if she found out where you were. Anyways the next couple of days were a series of semi-successful run-and-guns as you sent men with henry Repeaters ahead of the train every morning before you came into a meet-up point. Set up a perimeter and all that.

That turned out to be a good idea because the number of skirmishes that you had been stuck in has now eclipsed your age. Granted that’s not as impressive as it sounds but it’s still a lot for a week.

Each time you met a new officer you tried to give them command, and each time your men cried about your humility and the officer told you to keep leading.

YOU WEREN’T LEADING! YOU WERE RUNNING AWAY FROM CERTAIN DEATH!

And now here you were in the officer’s cabin, it wasn’t really special it was a dining car that you had put your family sword in after you had it cleaned and fell asleep in, and now everyone but the officers were afraid to enter it.

Of your new … peers? You had come to rely on Pryce to be your translator, the man spoke calmly and with a deep voice. It reminded you a bit of your dad, either way, the Kansas man was used to breaking down military lingo into simple speech and back so he was your lifeline among these veterans.

He was the one who took your idea of just tossing some dynamite off the back of the train to slow down the rebs chasing you and turned it into an actual military operation with skirmishers and ya know, less chance of you blowing yourself up.

And still, the officers looked at you like a genius for it. Though to be fair you’re pretty sure it’s just all the momentum you have behind you at this point, no one wants to be the one to step up and say that you don’t know what you’re doing. That’s gotta be it, they’re afraid they’ll be bowled over if they try and stop you.

Oh well, today you roll into union territory and it’s officially someone else’s problem.

Not like they’re gonna promote a kid to be a general after all. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You are Marcus E. Derringer and you serve under the most brilliant military mind in United states history, perhaps even the world! Who else could have struck such a blow against the rebels? Who else could have made an army out of all these disparate men?

But he was so self-conscious, he didn’t see himself as a genius. Perhaps it was because it was so effortless for him? After all, flying must seem simple to a bird and swimming easy for a fish. For jaune war was simply second nature.

He had this charisma to him, something you didn’t notice until the chips were down, and his ability to read an opponent is second to none, he predicted every rebel attack so far and countered every one masterfully.

All this from some kid who lied about his age to join up.

Yes, you knew about his age, the fact that he couldn’t shave yet was a huge red flag, but you didn’t see how it mattered. The union needed heroes to lead the men and jaune was just what the union needed. When you got to safe territory you were going to mail the petition you had to get the young hero commissioned as a general.

All the men had signed it too, he would be so happy!

[wanou-dorm]

HSA Student porfile - Maroba Harudora

Name: Maroba Harudora

Based on: Magalor

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿:Male (He/him)

𝗔𝗴𝗲: 18

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗱𝗮𝘆: October 24

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗶𝗴𝗻: Scorpio 

𝗛𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁:  154  cm/ 5’1 

𝗘𝘆𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: Blue

𝗛𝗮𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗼𝗿: platinum blonde with Blue streaks 

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𝗣𝗥𝗢𝗙𝗙𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗧𝗨𝗦

𝗗𝗼𝗿𝗺: Dreamy Star by @twsted-princess​

𝗦𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿: Second

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀: 2-A 

𝗢𝗰𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: Student

𝗖𝗹𝘂𝗯: Drama club( This  makes too much sense Considering Magolor )

𝗕𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝗷𝗲𝗰𝘁: Elemental Arts , Marketing ,

Homeland: Planet Halbrax / Scalding Sands

Sexuality: Pansexual

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𝗙𝗨𝗡 𝗙𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗦:

𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱: Left

𝗙𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱:  Nikuman( Steamed Pork Buns) , Apples 

𝗟𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗱: Circus Peanuts 

Likes: Pranks, Schemes , Money! , Amusement parks, Carnivals , Books 

𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀: …Ronnie(he can See through you tricks boy ) , Rachel (Rival) ,  Getting Scammed , Crowns .

𝗛𝗼𝗯𝗯𝘆: Fucking with People , Theater , Drawing ,cooking

𝗧𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀: Charisma, Persuasion , Acting , Magic, Making profits, Pranks, R/Petty Revenge 

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬:

On The Surface , Maroba seems to be Shy and studious and Polite , Young Man  . However While he Is studious he Definitely isn’t Shy polar opposite his rather Sociable and friend .Maroba dose not know what cause his Spike in popularity though He is Rather Charismatic and likes making Big impression , Teasing people and Showing off . However  Maroba is much more Logically inclined in other words in other words

“ While I don’t Believe in Luck ,I make a Profit from Poisenalle when They need Good luck charms and since Rachel is gone I can expand My “fairly”  price Ventures .~”

, He Also Kind of A little Bastard he has knack of being able to persuade people into doing things for him without  causing any suspicion . Which way Ronnie is On his Fuck off List , Maroba has Seen Every Tactic Of  his,cause Maroba has Them Used on people . Maroba Hopes to See the Day Ronnie gets himself in Trouble for it. 

Maroba dose like Joke about doing” Evil” Schemes even making Only for that Scheme To be a small bit of Mischief.

Maroba is a Rather Prodigious Mage so if You Try and Attack him he’s probably going to summon a Portal To Teleport you away.

Unique Magic 

Under My Control 

 

A rather Powerful Unique Magic That Maroba has access to he assigns a Specific Phrase for Everyone for Activation All he has to is Speak it the Person will Fall limp and He can Make thier Body Do what He Wants… The Draw back is the Person is Still Conscious and These Phrases  are Ridiculous sounding 

so For example Maroba just doesn’t say Pancakes and Rubina falls on her Face (this Definitely did not actually happen. )

By the Way Rubina and Flynn’s Phrases Are Burgertime and Magically Delicious Pancakes

Trivia

Maroba  Is Left handed cause Magalor  is often Depicted as Primarily left handed 

Maroba Popularity is Mainly due to Fact that Magolor has Been mentioned or Appeared in. Most games  after Return to Dreamland

Maroba  is mainly Popular cause his Cute and Polite , He  dosent Mind cause that earns more Business .

Maroba Kinda Is unaware about his Cuteness As Everyone one his Planet would be considered “cute” infact on Halbrax he was considered Handsome . 

Those Things on his Head are Ears Even though they look more like horns

Apparently He know a Zane Svärdstav  (Zan Partizanne)  and Often Teases him calling Sauerkraut 

Apparently  This his Revenge For Being called a Blueberry 

This is also Reference to When The Mage Sisters were announced as Dream friends Magolor called Zan Partizanne   parmesan cheese". This was his payback to Zan Partizanne calling him an Egg in a previous Twitter post.

He Apparently doesn’t like Crowns on Peoples Head and On a Visit around the Dorms of NRC Requested Riddle and Vil to Take thiers off . 

He Freezes When a Crown is Placed  on his Head,it’s unknown why But he States “he never wants to Be Like that again .

He Lives in Scalding Sands cause it Feels like Home . 

If He’s Mad He sounds rather Scary 

Maroba Also Like being In Villian Roles but He says He likes also likes playing Turncoats and Double Agents.

Tends to Hang Around Sento a lot .

Tends to Congratulate people Using Bravo and Had a large Vocabulary

He’s Apparently good at Driving Large Machine 

he doesn’t like to admit that his Kinda Gluttonus

Gabrielle reminds him the Dragons like creature he used to see on his homeplanet.

Voice Claim 

Ramura Amemura( Yes His voice Sounds that deep when his Mad or irritated but Regular Ramura is his Actual voice )

Theme Songs

(Normal)

Magalor the Distance Traveler

Under My Control

Crowned

Juno ver