#the way I could do this any old day I wanted to just a few months ago

[fueioekjfisks]

Vaguely inspired by that one post where Danny gets summoned by the JL and keeps throwing his shoes and stuff at them bc HE might not be able to leave the summoning circle but his clothes sure can!

I think the twist for that was that the circle doesnt effect him at all because hes a halfa and he was just goofing with the JL.

But imagine if the summoning and containment WORKED.

Like, he gets summoned and its startling, but once he realizes hes been summoned hes mostly annoyed.

Its a school night! He has work to do! Sure he wasnt DOING it, but it was still a possibility!

And hes trying to banter with the JL. Which for him just means being vaguely-obnoxious-but-somewhat-charming.

But then he tries to leave.

Maybe hes worried about his friends reaction to seeing him disappear.

Maybe the JL are saying some anti ghost/demon/whatever they think he is nonsense.

Maybe he changed his mind about doing that homework.

But either way, it doesnt work.

He drags his hand along the edge of the spell. It doesnt give, and he realizes hes not sure what this spell is supposed to do.

Its all along the floor beneth him, he cant fly through the floor.

He tries to get away from the walls and floor, worried whatever spell makes up the container can be triggered to hurt him or brainwash him or SOMETHING.

Its not his best guest, but he has never been summoned before, at least not with this type of barrier, and he doesnt know what to expect.

He barely gets a few feet off the ground when he hits the spells invisible roof.

And he is trapped.

And now this fourteen year old child is caged in a room with clearly dangerous adult strangers.

After hes been more or less kidnapped.

He’s suddenly regretting insulting them.

And its not his first time beimg kidnapped. Or his first time being in danger in general (obviously).

but its usually some ghost! Or Vlad “Loser, I hardly know her!” Masters!

Both of whom explain literally everything they plan in long ass evil monologues! It usually takes danny five minutes tops to learn their entire life story Dr Doofenshmirtz style!

He knows most of them personally! They hang out sometimes! Heck! even the local ghost hunters are either literally related to him or someone he’s dated!

He knows their powersets, their strengths, their weaknesses.

Most importantly, he knows their goals

But now hes trapped. In a room of clearly superpowerd strangers. With magical abilities strong enough to trap him for real.

And has no idea what they want

And Danny just freezes up

This could be super angsty if the JL were told that he was evil and think his panic + young features are only done to manipulate them.

You can also add angst with a language barrier/translation issue

I imagine the JL would be trying to get information about ghosts/ are trying to get someone to fight a villain they can’t defeat

Its going to scare the shit out of Danny either way- like imagine fourteen year old you gets kidnapped by strangers and they start asking you about your weaknesses or say they will only let you out if you agree to fight this monster.

And if Danny doesnt know this villain or how tf hes going to fight them he might feel like hes being sent off to get his ass kicked.

I can just imagine Danny being told he has to fight this supervillain and being like “…if i like..die…trying to fight this guy…what are you going to do with my body? Like will you send me home? Cause my family will freak if my corpse is teleported into the living room”

JL would not be happy about any of his responses.

Im begging someone to write this please have a nice day

[luveline]

hi lovely, was wondering if you would be able to write any hotch x bombshell!reader ? maybe before they got together or any scenario/prompt you feel like!

take care of yourself and have a great day!!💝💝

The problem with Aaron Hotchner is that he’s too lovely for his own good. He might not think of himself that way. Not many, if any, of the office would agree. Morgan thinks Hotch is a hard-ass and Elle likes him in her way, but she rolls her eyes when he gets snippy, and Spencer… well, you think you and Spencer are probably on the same page. 

Hotch is kind, and a good man, and if he looks handsome when he’s frustrated that’s just how nature intended it to be. 

“Stop it.” 

“No.” 

“Stop.” Hotch levels you with a look over his computer. You’re surprised he knows how to use it, considering the semi-permanent callus on the pointer finger of his right hand. You must’ve watched him pen a thousand case files, consults and forms in a love letter to the old ways. 

He types slowly, but you’ve decided to keep your comment about it to yourself. “You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t,” he says. 

“Maybe I do.” 

“I’m sure you do. Stop bragging.” 

You lean on your elbow on the desk. He’s got a file open in front of him he’s transcribing for the sake of security. It details a case from a few months ago, and each line of the investigation is printed in Hotch’s neat script, lilting to the left over time. He frowns as he turns a page and realises it’s practically margin to margin with detail.

You want to offer to do it for him, but he’ll say no. You want to slide your foot up the leg of his slacks to see if he’ll blush as he did last Friday when you’d done the same thing, Gideon in the doorway none the wiser and somehow disapproving regardless. 

And Hotch, he’d laughed like a kid when the door closed, not turned on in the slightest but endeared by the guts it took you to try. Then he’d sort of enticed you around the desk somehow —you don’t remember the before of it, only slinking to his side with your heels tumbled on their sides under the desk still, his palms wide and open as you settled on a wooden corner. 

“I’m pretty good on the computer.” 

“I know,” Hotch says. “I authorised your computing and communications technology seminar myself.” 

“I was good at it before the mandatory company training garbage,” you say without heat, wondering how you might entice him over your side of the desk. Flirting aloud doesn’t work. Neither does footsie, and besides, what fun is that for you? But he’d looked at you in this strange way, none of his commanding sternness about him. A smile lingered on his lips; he can’t have known he was smiling at all, or it wouldn’t have shown. He’d left something honest there for you to see. 

Maybe it’s in your best interest to let down your own walls for a minute, too. 

“I could help,” you say. “Perhaps not from the same file, but I can get the laptop and start on the Maryland stuff. If you like.”

He looks at you steadily over the computer. His eyes seem lighter, the suspicious set to his mouth oddly close to smiling. “What do you want?” he teased quietly. 

“Nothing. Just figured it would make your life easier.”

“When have you ever made my life easier?” 

Your smile slips before you can stop it. Immediately, Hotch isn’t smiling either. The, “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that, honey,” almost doesn’t reach you, over that sharp second of hurt. 

“It’s fine.” You plaster on a smile again to save him the trouble. “I know you didn’t.” 

“No, really. I didn’t mean that.”

“Hotch,” you say, thumbing over his name slowly, “I know. We were teasing.” 

“Flirting,” he corrects. 

Your smile is real, then. “Flirting?” you ask. “That’s rather forward. Flirting might imply we like one another enough to, oh, I don’t know, help each other with our overflowing workloads?” 

He looks at you, all dark and him, steady, strong, all the stupid things that draw you in. You’re not just in it for his arms, however tightly corded they might seem when he’s pulling off his tie after a long day. “You do more than enough for me just sitting there,” he says, holding your gaze with a careful casualness that has your heart tripping in your chest. “Can you do that for me?” 

“Do what? Just sit here looking pretty?” 

His shoe touches your ankle. “Exactly,” he says quietly. “Just sit there exactly as you are. I promise I don’t need anything else from you.” 

Warmed from the inside out, you sit back in your chair. Grinning like a fool. “Why didn’t you just say that?” you ask. Any chance at sounding casual is lost when your voice comes out gossamer thin. 

He looks you over appraisingly. “See?” he says, turning back to his case file. “Thank you, honey. You’re a big help.” 

You swing one leg over the other to get comfortable, crossing your arms over your stomach smugly. “I know.” 

[ireverie]

rose creek motel

pairing ↠ motel!worker!jake x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, age gap (18+), drowning, noncon, baby trapping, unprotected sex, oral, angst

summary ↠ after eighteen years of complying with the rules of your domineering parents, you finally decide it’s time to wipe the slate clean and move away. rose creek motel is nothing in the grand scheme of your life, especially with a history of serial killers lurking around, but when you meet jake, you decide that you’re not in any hurry after all.

wc ↠ 15.8k

a/n ↠ originally posted on my blog revehae, i am not plagiarizing myself. jake’s 27 for the plot. as always, feedback is appreciated! before you read, heed the warnings. i do not intend to glorify age gaps or predatory behaviors.

don’t like it, don’t read.

after a three-hour train ride to another city and another hour of wandering, you were thrilled to stumble across a motel before dusk. at first, there didn’t seem to be any nearby.

it was a smaller one, not part of any major chains throughout the country. there didn’t appear to be many staff nor customers. there was one dude who checked you in at the front desk and maybe a handful of cars in the lot.

not that it mattered. you wouldn’t be here long enough to be concerned about the sheer size of the place. a few days, maybe less, but certainly not more. the grand city of newark was waiting for you and you were borderline impatient to get there. but on the other hand, you wanted to savor this little trip. 

it would mark the first of your own, and the true beginning of your lifelong journey to find yourself.

any other person most likely would have been desperate to kick off their shoes and head to their room for the night, but the creek across the road from the motel caught your eye. you rushed over in spite of your aching feet as though it wouldn’t be there tomorrow, ambling along the riverbank. 

the waters rushed and crashed into slew of rocks, and you closed your eyes as you took in the sound. you could hear birds singing late afternoon songs and the rustling of trees in the early march spring. 

footsteps behind you startled you out of your peace. your foot slipped and your body lurched forward. had not a pair of big, burly arms clasped around you tightly, you would have slipped into the tiny creek. 

you glanced up in shock, meeting a handsome pair of innocent eyes. “sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, pulling you away from the bank. 

when you were safely on your own feet again, the handsome stranger released you. you straightened your skirt and smiled up at him. “it’s fine. thank you for catching me.”

“no problem. it would have been my fault if you fell.” he introduced, “i’m jake. i work at the motel across here.”

you glanced back at the motel, as if you hadn’t seen it before. “oh,” you said, surprised. but the uniform clinging to him gave that away. “not much staff, huh?”

jake smiled. he had deep, adorable dimples. “well, we are a pretty small motel. we do what we can with what we have.”

“do you get a lot of visitors?”

“usually just people with a road trip gone bad,” jake said. “i’d ask what a girl like you is doing out here by yourself, but i don’t want to seem like a creep.”

you laughed, wondering how that would be possible. when you were as handsome as this boy was, it would’ve been more difficult. “no, it’s okay. i’m actually not having a car trouble. i got here by train. i’m on my way to newark.”

“newark,” jake repeated, seemingly interested. “where from?”

“boston,” you chirped. “i’m starting afresh. my birthday was a few days ago and as my parents like to put it, i’ve ‘gone rogue.’”

jake’s eyes went a little wider in surprise. “happy belated birthday,” he said. “how old are you now?”

you shrugged, deciding not to reveal too much information. you were maybe naive to a fault, but not a complete idiot. “that’s a secret. i’m an adult, though.”

jake snickered. “that’s obvious. you checked yourself into the motel, didn’t you?”

well, that was true. but the exterior of the building seemed so shady, you’d initially doubted they would even bother with identification. you were grateful they didn’t require you to be twenty-one. a second longer of wandering and you would have collapsed on the side of the road. 

ignoring his question, you gave one of your own. “how old are you?”

mocking you, jake put a finger to his lip and said, “that’s a secret. but i’m an adult, too.”

you shook your head, but there was an amused smile on your face. ���fair enough,” you mumbled, turning towards the creek.

jake’s attention shifted with yours. “it’s called rose creek, our namesake,” he told you. “not much to see out here.”

“that’s not true,” you disagreed. “there’s a ton to see in nature. you just have to open your eyes and look.”

jake seemed amused, giving you a look. 

noticing his furrowed brows, you pointed towards the middle of the water. “look,” you said softly. “there’s a cute little baby turtle right there. they love creeks, because they’re an easy place to find tasty victims.”

jake’s eyes focused, landing on what he had thought was a rock and only noticed upon further inspection was indeed a turtle, chilling in its leathery shell. “damn, you’ve got a good eye.”

you giggled. “i grew up near a creek. you learn to pick up on those sort of things.”

“ah,” jake replied, nodding his understanding. “should we name it?”

“what would we name it?”

jake shrugged. “squirtle.”

that almost prompted you to roll your eyes. “that’s too cliché.”

“then, what do you suggest?” jake asked with a grin, crossing his arms. 

“i don’t know,” you mumbled. “donatello.”

jake snickered. “and that’s any better?”

you threw up your hands. “okay. fine. how about… archie.”

well, that was different from the other suggestions. “why archie?”

“because turtles remind me of that one studio ghibli film about the red turtle,” you told him, lowering your head shyly as you explained yourself. “and when i think of red, i think of that guy from riverdale.”

“isn’t that that show about teens dying?”

you shrugged. “don’t know. never watched it.”

something about that was amusing to jake and he decided that your suggestion was fitting. “alright. then, archie it is.”

you beamed. 

“well, it’s getting dark. i don’t think i have to tell you not to wander too late. you seem like a smart girl,” jake said.

you glanced around at the shadows falling onto the rustling trees and the last gleams of today’s light shimmering on the creek. “you’re right. i should head up,” you replied, turning to face him. “have a good night, jake.”

when you turned away, jake realized he never got your name.

after a long night of trying to catch up on some much-needed sleep, you decided to head down to the pool. it was nice to see a motel with a couple of accommodations. they would make a good enough resting spot before you returned to your travels tomorrow.

there were a number of lounge chairs facing the pool, but instead you chose to climb into a hammock a few feet away from it. it was a nice spring day, neither too hot nor too cold, and you folded your arms behind your head while fighting the urge to close your eyes.

there weren’t a lot of people staying at or near the hotel, so you weren’t surprised to be alone. to think of it, you hadn’t seen anyone but a couple of staff. although you did walk past a room blasting heavy rock.

you heard footsteps, and turned to see jake, sporting his burgundy uniform. he had a cart of towels, probably coming to restock. “jake,” you called out.

jake blinked up in surprise, likely not expecting to see you there. but when he did, he smiled and started to step over. “hey,” he said, digging his hands in his pockets. “you never told me your name.”

“whoops. silly me,” you replied, then told him your name. 

you watched him process it, as if he was deciding in his head whether he liked it or not. he repeated it quietly to himself and said, “that’s very pretty.”

“thanks,” you replied, bursting into giggles. “how’s work going so far?”

“oh, you know,” jake started, gesturing over to his cart with his shoulder. “nothing new. i never thought i would complain about not having enough work to do.”

you snorted. “i get what you mean. i was a camp counselor one summer. those kids drove me mad, you know. but when they were gone, i cried.”

there was a shimmer in jake’s eyes. “do you like kids?”

“yeah. they can be a handful, but they’re delightful. honestly, i don’t trust anyone who doesn’t like kids. how can you be mad at someone so innocent and full of life?”

jake nodded his agreement. “i realized a long time ago that people who don’t like kids are always bitter and unhappy with their own lives.”

that made you snicker, and the more you thought about it, he was probably right. “look at that. projection at its finest.”

“can i ask a personal question?”

“sure,” you said reluctantly. “what’s on your mind?”

jake seemed to hesitate, battling with himself in his head for a long minute before he asked, “would you ever have kids?”

that wasn’t so bad of a question. you hummed, not really having to think about it. you already knew your answer. “i’ve dreamt of settling down and having kids with the right person since i was young.”

jake gawked a bit. “really?”

“yes, really,” you told him, laughing at his astonishment. “i guess you can say i’ve always had big dreams. is that surprising?”

“no, it’s…,” jake trailed, finding no words. “those big dreams of yours. they couldn’t happen in boston?”

now that was a bit more personal. you blew out a breath. “well,” you began, glancing at the unnervingly still pool. “i just wanted a new environment.”

jake was tempted to press, to figure you out even more, but he didn’t want to risk startling you off. “maybe you were fated to stop by a really old motel in the middle of nowhere.”

“and meet you?”

something about that made jake smile. you were so smart. “and meet me,” he repeated.

by now, you knew that jake was kind of into you, the same way you were kind of into him. so, you decided to test the waters. “too bad that i’m leaving tomorrow,” you murmured quietly. 

jake heard you, and he frowned, though there was nothing he could do. it’s not like he expected you to put your whole life on hold for a guy you’d just met.

or maybe there was something he could do. “what if i gave you a couple of days on the house?” jake asked.

your eyes flitted up at his deep brown pair. “really?”

jake nodded. “what’s a few days?”

he had a solid point there. what was a few days? newark would still be there later on, and plus you had been taking your sweet time to make it there anyways. you weren’t in a hurry to get to this new life.

“then, i guess i’d stay,” you said, grinning wildly.

jake mimicked a victorious grin. “i think i’d like it if you stayed much longer than that, but i know you’ve got big plans.”

in all honesty, that surprised you a little. he was talking to you as if you had been here weeks, and not less than twenty-four hours. “what would someone like me do in connecticut?”

jake shrugged. “we’ve got… yale.”

you snorted. “and what makes you think i’m smart enough to get into yale?”

“actually, a lot of things. but i’d better get to work before i get caught slacking on the job,” jake said, pointing to a camera projecting from the side of the motel that had a complete overview of the pool.

you gawked. “those things work?”

jake laughed at your surprise. it was addictively cute, seeing his dimples deepen and his eyes sparkle. “you’re surprised?”

“a little bit,” you confessed quietly.

to your surprise, jake’s hand softly brushed your arm. it was so gentle, so fleeting, you could’ve convinced yourself it never happened had you not felt a lingering tickle where he’d touched you. “see you around,” he said to you featherly.

“see you,” you replied in a small voice, having lost it all. your eyes were fixed to his back as he walked away.

damn it, you were wanting more of this guy you barely knew.

almost half an hour passed before you eventually decided to head back up to your room. you wanted nothing more than to get to know jake better, but you would never interfere with a man’s pay. plus you were pretty confident that he would come to you when he was free enough.

there was a guy hovering over the railing next to your room, because he had been staying in the one beside yours. there was a joint between his fingers, although you had noted a couple of signs prohibiting it, not that anyone seemed to care. the stench of marijuana was all you could smell when you passed certain doors.

you had expected to slip past him and enter your room without interruption, so imagine your shock when he said, “i wouldn’t walk around here wearing stuff like that if i were you.”

like first nature, you tightened the towel around you. “excuse me?” 

the man didn’t look at you, facing the world. you could see the creek from here, and that was where his gaze seemed to be rooted, too. “when you’ve lived as long as me, you know things,” he told you. “you see that creek over there? a lot of bodies used to turn up there in the eighties. young girls that stayed here a night or two.”

you said nothing, because you had nothing to say. the obvious discomfort on your face was enough. 

“i’m just saying. you look like you’re alone. wouldn’t want anything bad happening to you,” he said, putting out the joint and walking away.

well, that was single-handedly the weirdest interaction you’d had at this motel so far. you hurried to unlock your room, immediately locking the door behind yourself.

you tried not to think much of it as you changed clothes, but you couldn’t help but wonder if that man was telling the truth or if he’d just had a little too much to smoke. either way, it was over twenty years ago. jake had mentioned nothing to you about any serial killers.

then again, he was clearly trying to get you to stay. the last thing he would’ve wanted was to scare you off.

chill the fuck out. just don’t hang around any old people. like that guy, you told yourself, comforting.

given that you didn’t go out again that day, you didn’t see jake at all until you finally emerged from your room the next afternoon in pursuit of a late breakfast. but when you glanced across the railing, you saw a figure all too familiar facing the creek.

forgoing breakfast for now, you raced downstairs and headed the road. they weren’t busy at all, although you still had a habit of checking before you crossed. 

jake heard you approaching, but didn’t turn around to face you. “how come i just know that it’s you?” he asked. 

you snickered, but it wasn’t like too many people would be strolling around this creek out of a curious interest. “maybe i have really distinguishable footsteps?”

laughing, jake finally met your eyes and beckoned you closer. you obliged, cautiously stepping to his side.

it was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t awkward. the two of you were marveling at the beauty of nature together, enticed by what you saw. it was sunnier today than it was yesterday and sunlight filtered through the trees, shimmering on the water.

“i’ve been thinking about what you told me,” jake finally said after a minute or two. “when you said there’s a lot to see in nature. and ever since, i’ve been looking and appreciating the little things i didn’t notice before. you were right.”

“of course, i am,” you replied, but the cockiness was to hide the flutter of your heart. “when i’m sick of human nature, it’s always nice to come back to earth. it’s beautiful.”

jake bobbed his head in agreement. “archie’s over there.” he pointed somewhere along the far end of the creek. “it likes the sun.”

“yeah. sun basking is, like, a turtle’s favorite hobby,” you said, poking your head out to spot the cute baby turtle. you were grinning from ear to ear. 

“what a simple life,” jake said, lightheartedly shaking his head in envy.

you burst into giggles. but that reminded you of one of the many curious thoughts you had about jake, and you figured now was a great time to ask. “hey, i didn’t want to ask this before because i didn’t know how you take it. but you don’t look like the typical guy in motel business.”

from the look on his face, jake was anything but offended. “it’s my parents’ business,” he explained. “i just work here part-time.”

“ah.” you nodded your understanding, finding that a satisfactory answer. but it only made you want to know who jake was when he wasn’t hard at work, donning the family uniform.

then, you remembered what that guy told you about the murders and realized that perhaps jake knew more about if they genuinely existed. 

jake beat you to a word. “by the way, are you going to tell me how old you really are? because adult could mean you’re twenty-four or forty-two.”

you rolled your eyes. he was being funny. “i’m eighteen.”

“damn,” jake said, wincing. “i’m nine years older than you.”

that was totally surprising. “really?”

“you don’t see the wrinkles?” jake asked, pointing to his smooth, wrinkleless face.

god, he was alarmingly handsome. not to mention his skin looked literally poreless. “please. i thought you were twenty-three at the oldest.”

“that’s funny,” jake said with amusement. “i thought you were at least old enough to drink. damn, you carry yourself like you’re older.”

that wasn’t the first time you had heard something along the line of those words, but damn, this guy was pushing thirty?

jake seemed to have sobered a little the next time you glanced at his face, like he was worried about something. “is it weird now?”

“no,” you told him too quickly, maybe because you didn’t want it to be. “not unless you make it weird.”

it seemed like time stopped and the world was no longer spinning for a minute as you and jake gazed into each other’s eyes. and the closer he came to you, your noses nearly brushing, the less you could breathe. “am i making it weird?” he whispered.

you couldn’t speak, so you simply shook your head, gaze lowering to his perfect lips.

everything happened in an instant. one second, you were thinking about how he was perfect from head to toe, and the very next, your heart was soaring as his lips met yours. your eyes fluttered closed, and you felt as if you were being whisked away into a wonderland.

the two of you kissed with heat and passion, overcome with the urge to swallow one another whole, and jake was somewhat surprised by how talented of a kisser you were. the feeling was mutual. you had kissed a handful of boys, but never any with this much finesse.

maybe you had been wanting to kiss jake this whole time, and never knew until you had him.

jake broke away after a moment or two, impressed that you weren’t the first to tap out. something about kissing you was addictive. damn, it made a pretty picture in his head, your arms thrown around his neck and his on your back.

“damn, baby,” jake said, catching his breath. “where’d you learn to kiss like that?”

you peered up at him with a smile, wondering if he somehow got even handsomer in the time your eyes had been closed. “you say i carry myself like i’m older than i am. well, my folks would beg to differ.”

that answer was vague as hell, but jake understood what you meant perfectly. “ah, teenage rebellion? you make out with a lot of guys to piss your parents off?”

“sure, let’s go with that,” you mumbled, still none too keen on disclosing what was officially your old life. then, you caught a glimpse of his lips, and burst into laughter. “you’ve got a little something there.”

“yeah?” jake asked, swiping his thumb over a lipgloss stain that you’d left on the corner of his mouth.

“a little bit to the left,” you told him, trying - and failing miserably - to keep a straight face. “no, my left.”

jake pretended to get annoyed, grumbling, “if i kiss you again, will it matter that i wipe it off?”

at the thought of kissing jake again, your heart skipped a beat or two, but you tried not to show it on your face. “i think that would defeat the purpose.”

jake smiled, and before you knew it, your lips were pressed together again. all you could hear was the obvious wet smacking of your lips, the soft murmuring of the wind, and the quiet rippling of the water.

but you could feel his touch, his hand gingerly falling from the middle of your back to the apex of your thighs. jake pulled away from your lips again, but only to kiss you on your jaw and neck. and everything about it made you feel hot inside out, as if you were scalding.

feeling you tensing beneath his fingertips, jake grinned smugly. he leaned into your ear, whispering, “how about we head up to your room, yeah?”

you were no idiot. it was plain what that meant and a kind of nervous excitement settled in the pit of your stomach like a kaleidoscope of butterflies. “okay,” you replied, letting him take you by the hand.

almost the second you were safely behind closed doors, jake pressed you against the nearest wall and kissed you fiercely. although you were taken by surprise, you returned the kiss with the same amount of fervor, slightly sticking your tongue into his mouth.

mischief curled onto jake’s lips, pleasantly surprised by all the little things you were initiating. his hands slowly wandered down your body for a minute, one hand at your ass and the other cupping your breasts over your shirt. you made a soft breathy noise that had jake scorching with the itch to fuck you, and it only increased tenfold when he noticed your eager hands fumbling with the buckle on his belt.

while your fingers were hard at work, jake’s were too, waiting for the perfect time to slip underneath your shirt. you shuddered when the tips of his fingers brushed against your stiff nipples, whispering jake’s name. 

“come over here,” jake said, leading you over to the bed. 

he gently lowered you down onto the mattress and started to undress you piece by piece in between kisses, pressing his lips against every bit he exposed. it was all you could do to contain your agitation, holding your breath as his face crept lower. 

to keep the more uneasy thoughts out of your head, you focused on jake, asking, “aren’t you on the clock?”

“that’s the thing about working for your parents,” jake said without looking up, giving his undivided attention to your legs as he yanked your skirt off. “what are the odds that they’ll fire their only son?”

“oh,” you said. he did look damn fine in that burgundy uniform, but you would’ve liked to see him without it on.

the more naked you became, jake saw the way you shuddered nervously, and chuckled quietly to himself. “you’ve never done this before.”

he wasn’t asking. that was clear by his tone. it was an astute observation that you couldn’t even deny.

you frowned. “is it obvious?”

“a little bit,” jake replied honestly, smiling at you. “i was a virgin before, too.”

you grinned bashfully. not a second later, your eyes made the mistake of glancing down and getting a eyeful of the imprint of his dick, and you looked away, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i don’t mind kissing assholes, but they say that your body is a temple, and i’ve never met anyone worthy, i guess.”

jake raised a brow and pressed, “until now?”

that made you chuckle. jake was very good at reading in between the lines, like you. “until now,” you repeated. “you’re my first.”

“and hopefully your last,” jake flirted.

the stupidest smile was on your face. it was a foolish thing to hope, all things considered, but it made you feel pined after. “jake, what was your first time like?” you asked.

jake seemed a little grim when he heard your question, but before you could apologize for potentially overstepping, he replied, “it was with someone i had been with for a very long time, and thought i would be with forever.”

there was no doubt in your mind that it had been someone jake loved and lost, and you couldn’t help but feel for him. 

not wanting the mood to shift, jake quickly changed the topic back to you, and everything he wanted to do to you. “trust me,” he said. “i’m going to do everything i can to make sure that even if you go, you never forget me.”

you barely had time to respond before jake tugged your panties away, dragging a pair of fingers through your wet folds. you made a tiny noise as he used them to gauge how wet you were. dissatisfied, he sank to his knees, lips meeting your folds. 

jake darted his tongue out, circling your sensitive clit immediately after. you hadn’t expected the sensation to be so sharp, especially so soon, and you gasped, thighs tensing together. jake got a hold of them and kept them apart as he pleased, making you take every second. 

“ja…,” you rasped, unable to get his full name out. 

jake grinned, lips curling against your pussy. damn, you were a sensitive one. if you were reacting like this already, what would you do when he got inside you?

you squirmed as jake continued to go down on you, but it was useless. he was so strong, holding you in place as your body reacted to every single swipe of his tongue against your bundle of nerves. it was too much stimulation and yet jake didn’t seem to be bothered, thriving on your pleasure.

god, every sound you made was a whimper of jake’s name. he couldn’t deny that it made his dick twitch in his underwear, aching to be buried balls deep inside you, but he was holding out for your sake. as badly as he wanted to fuck you senseless, he wanted your first time together to be unforgettable for the right reasons even more.

if he didn’t, what would make him any different from those assholes you let kiss you purely to make some kind of rebellious statement?

jake didn’t want to be a statement, the thing you fell back to after all else had failed. he wanted to be the answer, the one to stitch you back together, the one you crashed into when the tides got high.

you had never felt anything like this before in your entire life. of course, there had been plenty times where you had gotten yourself off, but you had never known pleasure of this magnitude until now. your own hands had nothing on jake’s and his damn skilled mouth.

jake liked how sensitive your body was. it was all too easy to get a reaction out of you, and he was so attracted to how you couldn’t help but respond to every suck and lick, shuddering in his grasp without control.

“jake, i can’t…,” you trailed, fingers desperate to clasp something, to anchor yourself. you would have wound them through his hair, but you were afraid of accidentally hurting him, and settled for the sheets.

“yes, you can,” he said, pulling away from your dripping cunt for a few seconds. “you’re doing good, baby. cum on my tongue.”

it felt as if you were going to burst from the inside and you didn’t really want him to stop, regardless of how incessant the pleasure was. no matter how hard you tried, it was impossible to keep still. you wanted more than you knew your body could handle.

to say nothing of the fact that jake was doing everything in his power to drag you to your breaking point. he knew exactly what to do to have you crying out his name. for a moment or three, he had you convinced that he was everything you ever wanted. now, it was too hard to think.

in a matter of minutes, you were coming undone with a whimper so sharp you were certain your temporary neighbor would come knocking on the door.

“that’s it,” jake crooned with the slyest fucking grin on his face, replacing his tongue with a pair of hefty fingers.

you tried to shove his hand away, the stimulation tearing you to shreds, but jake was keen on breaking you down until you couldn’t be destroyed any further. until he had ruined you for any other man.

your bare chest heaved violently as you fought to catch your breath, blinking a couple times to clear the wet daze of your eyes. there was nothing you could do except silently gawk at jake like he had singlehandedly just stolen your heart.

he finally pulled away, smugly asking, “need a break?”

after a few seconds of gathering your bearings, you rose to your knees and grabbed jake by the back of his head to bring his lips to yours, pulling him down to the creaky mattress beneath you. jake was surprised, but he liked how assertive you were, resting his hands at the back of your legs and letting you sink your weight onto him. 

it was criminal how good of a kisser he was. and if that didn’t already have you dripping, then the way he touched you all over would have. you felt his hard dick against your thigh and couldn’t think of a time where you had wanted anything so badly. 

“take these off,” you said to him when you pulled away from his mouth, tapping his underwear. “and i want to be on top.”

jake snickered in amusement. “whatever she wants,” he said, reaching for his underwear the second you climbed off.

your mouth ran dry the moment you caught a glimpse of jake’s intimidatingly thick length and you were certain that he was going to split you in half. you desperately didn’t want to come off as a shy virgin, but every second that passes made you slightly antsy.

fortunately, there was something to steal your attention away from jake’s impressively large size, and your entire demeanor shifted. “wait, fuck. do you have a condom?”

“close your eyes,” jake said. 

you immediately furrowed your brows, wondering what he was up to. 

noticing your wariness, jake added reassuringly, “five seconds. come on, i won’t do anything weird. i promise.”

reluctance was written all over your face in a large bold font and you had your doubts, but you chose to trust him, watching the back of your eyelids and counting up to five in your head. 

when your eyes fluttered open, jake was grinning like an idiot with a condom between his fingers.

you gawked, astonished. “where’d you get that from so fast - up your ass?”

jake burst into laughter and only said, “a magician never reveals his secrets.”

“give me this,” you said, taking the condom packet out of his hands to tear it open. 

“bossy,” jake mumbled under his breath.

that made you giggle, gingerly placing the condom over the head of his cock, and jake noticed how your bottom lip stuck out when you were heavily concentrated.

you were too enamored with his dick to notice that he was staring at you as though you were the prettiest thing in the whole universe. for some odd reason, the more you looked at it, the less scary it seemed. “it’s actually kind of cute.”

jake wasn’t expecting to hear those words and it completely snapped him out of his little daze. you glanced up at him when you heard him quietly snickering. “you’re something else, you know?” he asked.

“i know,” you replied, having heard many things along the lines of that statement. “you ready?”

it was ironic that you were the one asking him, but jake played along anyway. “show me what you got, baby.”

you moved to straddle him again, raising yourself over his size and grabbing him in your hands to steadily lower yourself. the two of you sighed together in unison as your slick walls clamped around him.

there was one reason why you firmly chose to be on top and that was because you wanted to directly control the pace in case things got to be too much for you. you took your sweet time to sink down deeper and deeper, never too keen on doing too much too fast. in spite of the great lengths jake went to prepare you, it was still a tight fit.

it felt like the wind had been knocked out of you, as if you were choking on your own breaths, and your heart was pounding louder than ever.

“that’s it, baby,” jake said, gathering your soft thighs in his big hands. “is it too big for you?”

you shook your head, having your pride to protect and defend with your entire body. “no, i can take it.”

jake grinned proudly. “i know you can. that’s my girl.”

now that was a sure-fire way to get you hot and bothered. your heart fluttered at the praise and you hid your smile in your elbow, tempted to ride the soul out of him.

you were maybe somewhat impressed by how deep inside of you jake was and definitely plenty aroused. you had feared how far he could go, but now that your cunt was involuntarily tightening around him, gushing around him hotly, it was everything you wanted.

jake was as astonished by you as you were by him, watching you take his cock like a fucking champ. you may have been fighting to let all of him inside, but you were doing a mighty good job, all things considered. there weren’t too many girls he’d had with your determination to ride.

you had finally found a comfortable pace and although there was a little pain, the rapture on your expression was something that you couldn’t deny. you were watching jake watch you, noticing his face tense in a similar manner beneath you. 

and it was to die for. 

“oh my god,” you moaned, hands falling down onto his naked chest. 

jake couldn’t help but think the same thing with how you were gripping him for dear life and he was barely holding it together. to say nothing of the way you were crying out his name again like it was the only word you knew. he couldn’t help but think about how nobody else had ever heard your lips part open to whimper their name. 

and he would be keeping it that way, no matter the measures he had to take to ensure he kept you in his big, strong arms. 

you leaned into jake, pressing your lips to his as you fucked yourself on him. the tiny room was overwhelmed with sound, the bed creaking and your lips locking, and your bodies meeting in a loud wet smack. something about it turned you on more than you thought you were capable. 

jake thought he could watch you on top of him for hours upon hours. his hands wandered to your breasts as you kissed him, tenderly fondling them and brushing his thumbs over your stiff tits. you were riding him into the night like there was no tomorrow, like you had something to prove, and he loved every second of it.

the softest of whimpers escaped your mouth when you pulled back, brushing your hair behind your ears. you couldn’t fathom the ecstasy hanging over you, blindsiding you. maybe it was in your head, but you swore you could feel him in the pit of your stomach, and you didn’t know whether that was normal or not.

jake affectionately gathered your hands in his, holding them as you desperately tried to anchor yourself and make sense of the many things you were feeling at once.

it wasn’t an overstatement to say that you were seeing stars. you and jake were getting each other off, every guttural sound he made taking you to the moon, and every twist your face made sending him crashing into the atmosphere.

you were flush against him, kneading his cock perfectly, and that made jake mumble curses underneath his breath. “goddamn, beautiful. slow down,” he said.

but you didn’t want to slow down the pace, you only wanted to keep the fire burning. you laughed breathlessly and teased, “why? is it too much for you?”

jake chuckled and swore as he closed his eyes, not wanting to admit that you were unraveling him quicker than he’d expected. if this was your first time, why did it feel like you were deflowering him, exposing him to a kind of euphoria that was unlike anything he had felt before. 

he had been intent on dragging things out, but you were making him weak underneath your fingertips. damn, he wanted to thrust his hips up into yours, but he had a feeling you wanted to take the lead, for your own sake. 

“maybe it is,” jake confessed, much to your surprise. “maybe you’re getting me off too fast and it’s hurting my pride.”

“cum, baby,” you whispered sultrily, wanting to see a guy like him fold under pressure. it would be like making a grown man cry. “i want to see it.”

jake sucked in a breath at those words, accepting his fate. you were bringing him closer to the end and there was nothing that he could do about it, even if he wanted to.

you were glistening in coats of sweat from head to toe, and your thighs were starting to ache, but all you had to do was hold on for a little while longer. it was obvious that jake wasn’t far from the finish line, and in truth, neither were you.

it didn’t help that jake was unintentionally imagining things that would get him off sooner. thoughts of you were all that occupied him, picturing how it feel to fuck you raw and hard, holding you squarely beneath him. you were pretty on top of him, but he was enamored with how you had squirmed and cried out underneath him, too.

you had forgotten about everything else in the entire world while you rode jake to the ends of it and back. no part of you thought about your hectic life back home, about the life you’d planned in boston, and everything in between.

the only thing on your mind was jake and in spite of being totally consumed by something, it was the most peaceful your thoughts had been in months.

you could feel jake’s eyes rooted on you and glanced down to meet his gaze, noticing him smiling up at you. when he looked at you like that, he made you feel so wanted. you were naked and bare in front of him, in a literal sense, and he’d accepted every piece of you.

“what are you smiling at, silly?” you asked in between thick breaths. 

“you,” jake replied, like it was obvious. “you’re so damn beautiful, you know. i could fuck you forever.”

not wanting to show how much that had gotten to you, you quipped, “i think i’m the one doing the fucking here.”

jake chuckled, and you thought it was because of what you had said, but he had felt you pulsing around his cock, and he was amused by how easy it was.

the room was getting hotter than ever and it was becoming harder to breathe with the stuffy air. you almost thought that your skin was on fire, and you were scalding on the inside. you were going even harder now, chasing relief.

jake was losing his self-control and he couldn’t help but lift his hips into yours, making you gasp loudly. your head leaned back as you both rocked your hips, desperately trying to finish yourselves.

“jake,” you cried out again, tightening your hold on your hands to ground yourself like you thought you might fly off somewhere.

“i’m right here, darling,” jake crooned, holding your hands firmly. “i’m not going anywhere.”

you nodded your head, trusting him, giving in to him. 

everything after that was almost a blur. the rapture had you lightheaded, and all you remembered was the heat spitting through your core and your toes curling. 

but jake remembered so much more than that. he could picture the exact look on your face that did it for him, unraveling him, sending him cursing at the stars. the tremble that shuddered through his thighs as his cock twitched. he remembered the way your pussy throttled him as you orgasmed, moaning his name. 

when it was over, you collapsed onto his chest, panting and heaving as if you had ran a marathon together. 

neither of you made a move to shift positions for a long while, jake simply admiring the feeling of your bodies sticking together. “are you okay?”

you weakly nodded your head. that word was an understatement, but you didn’t have the strength in your bones to muster a better one yet. few pleasures came close to the kind you were currently reaping the afterhighs of. 

god, you weren’t stupid enough to throw everything away for some boy you’d just met, but he made you want to. 

jake preciously kissed your neck and shoulders. “go to the bathroom,” he whispered. “i’ll go in after you.”

“okay,” you replied obediently, starting to peel yourself off him, until you had a thought. “are you gonna stay?”

jake’s brows furrowed. “do you want me to stay?”

of course, you did. you had just lost your virginity to him in the best way possible, exposed yourself to him in a way no one else had ever seen, including yourself. not only that, but considering you were a young girl in the middle of essentially nowhere, being around a kindhearted, strong guy made you feel safer.

“please,” you said, wanting to be nowhere else but in his arms for the meantime. 

jake smiled and kissed you again, the corner of your mouth this time. “okay, but i have to leave early in the morning. i can’t slack off forever.”

you did the same, throwing your arms around his neck, before bringing your lips to his neck and whispering, “couldn’t you?”

“you drive me insane, woman,” jake groaned, sensing himself getting riled up again. 

you giggled, finally crawling off him and heading towards the bathroom, but not before demanding, “don’t move.”

jake had no place else that he’d rather be, even if he was in some moderately crappy motel that was understaffed and a playground to creeps. you were there, so it might as well have been like home.

when you returned to the room, jake was still there, only he had disposed of the condom now and he was no longer naked. he went in after you, like he said he would, and came back to also find you redressed.

well, sort of. beyond putting back on your bra and panties, your efforts were a little more nonexistent.

“well, now i feel overdressed,” was the first thing jake said when he came back. 

you burst into giggles. “because you are.”

with that, jake stripped down to his undershirt and boxers and came to join you on the bed, melting into your side. he couldn’t help but steal a few more kisses, completely under your spell now. 

the two of you got comfortable. it was clear that jake had no intention of returning to work tonight and had the motel been busier, you would’ve urged him back to his shift. rose creek would be fine without him for a few hours, maybe longer.

you were more important, and jake seemed to think so too, eager to know you better. “so,” he started. “does your family know you’re in connecticut right now?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “hell no. as far as they know, i just vanished in the middle of the night. i didn’t tell them i was going to boston, either. i probably should’ve picked somewhere down south, or on the west coast, but i don’t think they’d bother looking.”

jake frowned the more he heard your words, displeased by how much strife it seemed you had with your own blood. “why not? disobedient soul or not, you’re still their flesh.”

try telling them that, please, you thought, but didn’t say. “because i’m the black sheep,” you explained. “i’m the child that didn’t want to be a doctor or a lawyer.”

“what do you want to be?” jake asked, pulling you closer. looking at you as if he genuinely wanted to know.

it surprised you, because rarely did you meet anyone who seemed to have cared. “a vet,” you grumbled, feeling stupid.

“now that’s a surprise,” jake replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. and when you smiled an inch, he felt like he was getting somewhere. “but i think it suits you. you’d be a great vet.”

your cheeks were burning. it was embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time to have your aspirations validated for once. it was too strange for you and you said, “i’m talking about myself too much. what about you? you said this was part-time. do you have a full-time job?”

“to be honest, i haven’t really worked a lot since i graduated. my parents own a lot of property in the state and this is just one of them. the others are better, i promise,” jake said.

for some reason, that made a lot of sense. jake seemed a little too extravagant for this sort of environment. “you know, that clears up a lot questions i had about you. but then, why work here instead of someplace better?”

“in case you haven’t noticed, hardly anyone comes out here.”

you snickered to yourself when you realized the appeal of working here for a guy like jake. fewer crowds, fewer interactions, and more excuses to be sleeping around with pretty girls instead of legitimately working.

“but i do work for certain things. i didn’t have everything handed to me,” jake said to clarify. “i’ve been trying to settle down. i know it doesn’t look like it right now, but i have. and i want to give my future family everything.”

that didn’t surprise you either, but it did garner your attention. “oh?”

jake nodded. “yup. my parents have been begging me to bring a girl home for three, four years now. they said that they know i’ll be married someday, but they’re not as confident that they’ll be around to see it.”

considering that jake did come across as slow and steady, for the most part at least, you laughed, because the only reason they weren’t right to be unconfident was jake’s good looks and charming personality. 

you tossed an arm over him, peering into his eyes. “what’s stopping you?”

jake shrugged. if he had it his way, he would’ve brought someone home forever ago, but he’d found that few things went according to plan in his love life. “haven’t found the one, i guess.”

that was fair. you wanted a family too someday, but never in your life had you met somebody that you would let do more than kiss you, until jake. 

“the thing with love is that it’s trial and error,” jake told you, coming from a place of obvious experience. “so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.”

“i wouldn’t know,” you mumbled. “i’ve never been in love.”

jake’s eyes fell down to your gorgeous hand that was resting above his happy trail and smiled to himself. “you will be, i’m sure. i think love is out there for all of us, patiently waiting.”

you furrowed your brows, like those were the last words you expected to here out of his mouth. “so, you’re one of those.”

the look on jake’s face matched yours. “one of what?”

“a hopeless romantic,” you sighed, but there was a smile on your face. 

jake laughed. “i guess you could say that, but i just tell people that i’m ambitious.”

“well, mister ambitious,” you said, stifling a yawn. “i’m sleepy, and you’ve worn me out for one day. promise to tell me more about yourself tomorrow?”

jake nodded, then leaned in to kiss your cheek. “i promise. i get off early tomorrow, so we’ll have more time together. goodnight, baby.”

“goodnight, jake,” you whispered, snuggling into his chest.

like he couldn’t get enough of you, jake gave you one final kiss on your forehead before he turned off the lamp on the nightstand. he had his arms around you, your back flush against his chest, and you stayed that way until night’s end.

it was some of the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. being in jake’s arms made you feel comfortable, protected. you weren’t certain why, but it was like no harm could reach you there. you were untouchable and you didn’t have to worry about anything.

when you woke up, you were surprised to still find him there, barely awake himself. “you’re still here?” you asked, unexpectant.

jake grinned at you when you turned to rest your head on his chest and replied groggily, “i thought i’d stay to hear your pretty voice one more time before i left.”

you rolled your eyes at his obvious flirting, but there was a huge beaming smile on your face and you were kissing him affectionately merely seconds later.

one thing lead to another. you swore you didn’t know how it happened. slow, sweet kisses were met by languid, intentional touches, until jake was on top of you, fucking every bit of sleepiness out of your body.

the tiniest moans escaped you as jake rocked his hips into you, slow and gentle, and you clung onto his forearms to anchor yourself back down to earth. he was whispering dirty little nothings in your ear, telling you how good you were to him, unraveling by the minute. 

it just felt too good having him inside you, filling you to the hilt and making your bodies seem inseparable. you loved being tangled together, limb to limb, pleasuring each other like there was no other option. it was the first time you had craved someone so desperately. 

you didn’t want to get out of bed when he was gone. you had all the energy in the world, but you were unfathomably sore. somehow, in a good way. you liked feeling the traces of jake in your bones long after he had slipped away. 

deciding not to rot in bed while you waited for him to return, you got up to take a shower and rinse away the scent of sex from your body. it would be a while, anyway. jake had mentioned something about going back to his place for a minute. 

part of you wanted to feel guilty for keeping him overnight, but you couldn’t. not when you knew that he had enjoyed it as much as you had. you wanted jake, and he wanted you. there were no doubts. 

drying off, you noticed that you had used the last towel and you would need more to cover the last two days of your extended stay here. you got dressed and headed down to the main lobby, requesting some from the guy that had been working the desk since you got there. 

you leaned against the wall while you waited, your thoughts naturally wandering off to jake and his handsome face and stupidly adorable dimples. and maybe his unthinkably talented cock, but only for a second or two. maybe three.

it was strange that he had been the only thing you knew your entire time here, and even then, you barely knew him. under different circumstances, you would have wanted to know all there was to know about jake. you would always remember him, even when he was forever gone. 

“those towels you wanted,” said the guy working the desk, snapping you out of your daydream. 

you walked up to the desk, smiling kindly as you accepted them. “thank you. sorry for the inconvenience.”

“it’s fine. have a good day,” he replied, smiling back suspiciously wide. 

you didn’t comment on it, wishing him the same and heading for the door. 

before you could reach it though, you heard his voice again. “by the way, i heard you getting it good when i was making my rounds,” he told you slyly. “how much for the inconvenience?”

dickhead, you thought. your smile dropped and you switched on a dime, shooting him a hefty glare. “i’m not for sale,” you grumbled, storming the fuck out of there. 

god, why were the interactions you had with men at this motel getting increasingly weirder? had not jake been keeping you around, you would have been on the next train to boston days ago. 

you were angry as hell at being propositioned for sex by some random stranger, but you tried to let it go. although you would definitely be ranting to jake about it later. speaking of, on the way back to your room, you noticed the door to one a few rooms down was ajar. 

it was frequented by jake, you’d accidentally noticed. sometimes, you would see him come and go, way too often for any customers to be staying there.

you didn’t mean to pry. you had only gone up to check if he had already arrived, but there was no sight of him anywhere. the one thing that was clear was that he spent a hell of a lot of time here.

there weren’t too many things, considering he didn’t live there, but there were a couple of uneaten snacks sitting on the table. and a purple hair tie that you barely paid any mind to. on the nightstand, there was a framed picture of jake with some girl you’d never seen.

it seemed like they were pretty close, all things considered. he had an arm wound tightly around her, and her head was resting on his shoulder. you weren’t jealous, especially considering he looked nearly a decade younger in the picture, and you instead found it cute that he looked so different and not at the same time. 

given the different trends at the time, his hair was in a completely different style. his cheeks were a little rounder. but he still had the same silly, goofy smile. 

realizing what you were doing was definitely a major invasion of privacy, you scurried out of there with your towels and headed back to your room to restock. 

jake came knocking way too many hours later, but the second you heard, you leapt up, swinging the door open and throwing them around his shoulders. “what took you so long?” you asked sullenly. 

jake was pleasantly surprised by the abrupt display of affection, embracing you. “i decided to get everything done so that i could come straight to you, and didn’t have to leave.”

well, that made sense. when you pulled back, you noticed that he wasn’t in his uniform for a change. “this is my first time seeing you in normal person’s clothes. you look different. good different.”

“thanks, beautiful,” he replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. “may i come in?”

you stepped to the side, letting him enter, and shut the door behind him. 

jake seemed amused when he noticed the television was on, showing some anthropology program he had never watched. “did i interrupt?”

it took you a second to realize what he meant, but when you did, you were all giggles. “no, you’re way more important.”

jake was glad to hear that. “by the way, did you have fun sneaking into my room?”

the sudden accusation startled you, but you didn’t deny what you had done. he somehow clearly already knew that you’d nosed around, and you weren’t one to make excuses nor lie. “that was rude. i should’ve asked for your permission. i’m sorry.”

something about your sincerity made jake smile and wave it off. “it’s fine. i don’t have anything to hide.”

either way, you still felt a little guilty. you wanted to ask him who that girl in the picture was, but you decided that you’d done enough snooping.

noticing the shame on your face, jake beckoned you over, commanding, “come here.” and when you promptly did as told, he smoothed his fingers through your hair and reassured, “i told you, it’s fine. forget about it. now, talk to me.”

you melted into jake’s touch, and forgave yourself, forgetting about what you had done, forgetting about all of the awful parts of your day that were no longer relevant now that you were comfortable in jake’s arms.

minutes turned into hours before you were ready for them to, and you almost couldn’t believe how easily you had made a friend out of jake. he was just so easy to talk to, getting you to confess about your less than happy past and chat about your hopes for the future like you were lifelong buddies.

and to your surprise, he made no attempt to try and sleep with you that night. it seemed that jake was fully intent on getting to know you for the young woman that you were.

every now and then, you got the feeling that he was more into you than it was safe for him to be, and more than you could fathom him being so quickly, and knowing that you would be leaving soon, it crushed you. no part of you wanted to see his face when it was time to say goodbye.

but when you woke up the next day, you were smiling. jake had slipped away, something about having errands to run unrelated to work, and you were counting down the seconds until he would come back. 

it was your last full day together.

the thought saddened and excited you all at once, overwhelming you to the core. you had convinced yourself that although jake had made you feel something nobody else ever had, you would move on the second you got a step closer to bringing your dreams to fruition. but until then, you were a little heartbroken.

you had to be real with yourself for a second. could there be a way for a guy almost a decade older than you to be someone you spent the better half of your life with?

you didn’t think so. you and jake led different lives. and while you hoped he would soon find the girl he had long dreamed of, you knew that she wasn’t you. 

who were you to keep him down, when he could be searching for her?

not to mention you weren’t even ready for such large of a commitment. you wanted to complete school and graduate, eight years of your life at least that you would be hard at work, studying your ass off. jake struck you as the marriage and kids kind of boy, none of which you were prepared for.

he’ll be fine. you’re acting like he’s in love with you or something, you told yourself, sitting on your empty bed. there was no way someone as handsome as jake hadn’t had his fair share of short-term flings.

at some point, you quickly became bored of waiting and decided to go on your phone, which you shockingly hadn’t been giving much attention lately. there were some texts from your friends, the only ones you had mentioned connecticut to, and you promptly messaged them back. 

there weren’t any notifications from your family, but whether that was only because you blocked them or not, you didn’t know. 

then, you opened google and started to search random questions, as you often did when there was nothing more exhilarating to do. you had a couple of questions about toothbrushes, a word your friend had sent that you had never seen before, and finally, the motel itself.

you didn’t know why you hadn’t googled any information about it sooner. most likely because you didn’t think you would be welcomed for so long, but either way, it should’ve been one of the first things you’d done.

out of weary curiosity, you typed the name of the motel into your search engine, and the first thing you saw was a picture of the front exterior.

the next thing you saw, however, was a little more appalling. there was a news article from a little more than a month ago reporting the death of a girl named alyssa gardner.

rose creek, named in memory of rose bellori who was found there after being tragically murdered thirty-eight years ago, suffers another victim, says local police department. twenty-four-year-old alyssa gardner was found in the creek three weeks after being reported missing. her last known location prior to her murder was rose creek motel, according to her bank statements.

once you read the first sentence, you couldn’t stop, remembering what that old man had told you about the bodies that turned up in the creek. and as you continued to look into the murder, you froze, reading something about how she had last been wearing a purple hair tie.

there had been a purple hair tie in jake’s room, you remembered, because it was on the table beside the snacks. it could have been a coincidence, but although his hair was long enough, you had never seen jake tie up his hair.

now you had to know. there was a picture of alyssa wearing the tie and it was so specific, there was no way you wouldn’t know if they were the same just by looking. but you had no clue how you would get in there. after your invasion yesterday, there was no way jake would reasonably make the mistake of leaving it open again, even if he claimed to have nothing to hide.

you slipped on your shoes, brainstorming on your way to the room, considering jake wouldn’t have been back for a few hours, according to himself. your first thought was the guy at the front desk, but if he did do you a favor, he would want something in return that wasn’t cheap. nor were you selling.

fortunately, another man started to walk by, an employee, judging by his uniform. “excuse me, sir,” you said, donning your most helpless voice. “is there a way you could help me get in this room? i left my key inside by mistake.”

obviously believing you, the man said, “yeah, of course. i have a general key card right here.”

and just that easily, he opened the door for you. 

“thank you so much,” you told him, expressing your gratitude before closing the door to jake’s room behind yourself. 

you felt bad for lying, but your gut was screaming at you right now and you were tempted to trust her now more than ever. you raced to the table, shoving the snack box out of the way, and gawking in horror when you found what you were looking for.

it was the purple hair tie, and not only was it the exact same color and design as you had seen in the picture, but there were traces of hair on it that didn’t match the dark color on jake’s head.

you backed away, the blood freezing over in your veins. the shock was too cruel, too icy, and there were a billion thoughts racing through your mind. 

but at the forefront of them all, you were thinking, i’ve got to get the fuck out of here.

you stepped out of the room, clearing the hallway before you made a beeline for yours, making a call and shoving your things into your suitcase. you weren’t supposed to be leaving until tomorrow, but you figured it was in your best interest to escape before things had the opportunity to go wrong.

there was no time to think about how your judgment could have been so awful, because all you wanted to do was go far, far away from this place, where you would finally be safe from all the things in this world that wanted to hurt you.

the second your belongings were packed, you checked out at the front desk, noticing that the dude from yesterday was strangely no longer there, replaced by a woman you had never seen before. but you didn’t ask questions, didn’t press.

because the second you were free to go, you were dragging your suitcase to the road and praying that uber would get here before jake could.

until you felt something cold pressing into your back, and every bone in your body went stiff. “leaving without saying goodbye?” asked a familiar voice, coming out of nowhere. 

tears began to sting your eyes, fear making your blood run cold. you couldn’t see him, but your whole body knew who it was. “please.”

“let’s take a walk,” jake said nonchalantly, pointing with the hand that wasn’t discreetly holding a gun to your back.

given the circumstances, there was no way in hell that you wouldn’t do as told. you walked to the right of the motel with your suitcase in tow, far out of sight of any cameras that might’ve been privy to your predicament, willing yourself to breathe lest you fell apart then and there.

it had never been more of a struggle to walk, and it was like you had nearly forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. your brain was hyper aware of the weapon not even an inch away from you.

through your blurry vision, you could make out a car coming into view. jake asked, “do you have your license?” 

you nodded, afraid to speak. 

“good. this suitcase could’ve been you,” jake said, taking the suitcase out of your hands to throw into the trunk. “you’re driving.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. it terrified you how indifferent jake seemed, walking you over to the driver’s side of the car and opening the door for you, meanwhile you looked as if you had seen a ghost.

only when he got in on the other side did he hand over the keys, still pointing the gun at you and calmly ordering, “drive. i’ll tell you where to go.”

and that was exactly what he did, telling you directions as you made every turn he told you to, not that there were very many.

every second was spent fighting tears and trying to keep your thoughts from racing. you could’ve never seen something like this coming. you had felt so safe, so secure around jake, and now he was threatening you with a weapon.

god, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to you. would he murder you in cold blood like that girl in the news article?

your first thought was to try and coax your way out of it. as if killers listened to logic and reasoning, outside of their own. “jake, you don’t have to do this. you can let me go.”

jake laughed, although you were dead serious. “so that you can go straight to the police? or worse, leave me here by myself?”

“it doesn’t have to be like that,” you whispered. “i like you a lot, jake.”

“i like you a lot, too. that’s why i have to do this, darling.”

“i don’t understand.”

“i know,” jake replied coolly. “it’ll all make sense soon.”

that statement didn’t make you feel any better. instead, you were enveloped by a deep feeling of cold dread, sensing that the worst had yet to come and you needed to brace yourself for the inevitable.

no more than thirty minutes of driving later, jake told you to pull into the driveway of some house along the creek. you wanted to scream when he pulled you out of the car, but the house you were at was isolated from the rest of the world. nobody would have ever heard you even if the cry came from the very tip of your lungs.

but you noticed that he had left his gun in the car. 

you tried to break out of his grasp, but jake was tremendously stronger than you, and he didn’t seem to like your actions much, hissing, “i don’t want to hurt you, but don’t think i won’t.”

no part of you believed that he didn’t want to hurt you, not even for a second. “let me go. i want to go home!”

“no, you don’t,” jake shot back, tightening his clasp on your bicep. “you want to be anywhere but there. don’t act like i haven’t been doing you a favor.”

“don’t act like you know me,” you snapped, still trying to wrest your way out of his hold. 

jake laughed, but it was mirthless. “honey, i do know you. you told me enough about you. i know what you like, and what you don’t like, and how vicious your parents are to you. i know that you don’t ever want to go back home.”

you didn’t know what was worse between being here right now and being home, and that thought made ache spring into your chest ravishingly. 

“i should’ve known you’d find out sooner than i’d hoped,” jake said. “you’re a smart woman, but that’s one of the many things i love about you.”

tears continued to well your eyes, but they were angry now. “let go of me!”

jake began to become exasperated, dragging you over to the edge of the creek, but you didn’t stop demanding to be freed, flailing and thrashing. 

not until you finally exclaimed, “if you’re going to kill me, then kill me already!”

to your surprise, that made jake root in place for a moment or two. “i think you’re confused.”

you were glaring up at him. “wasn’t that your plan?”

for an unsettling amount of time, jake just stared at you emptily. then, he began to laugh heartily, amused to no end. “now why on earth would i want to do that?” he asked.

you said nothing, startled and baffled altogether.

jake smiled at you. the sight warmed your heart no more than a day ago, but now, you were thoroughly unnerved. “baby, you’re perfect. you’re everything i’ve ever wanted. you may be a little younger than i usually go for, but maybe that’s where i went wrong. with you, it’s not too late to fix the little things. like all this resistance.”

nothing could have prepared you for the sudden change in him, for him to throw you to the ground and submerge your head underneath the water of the creek.

it felt and sounded like the whole world had stopped for a moment before the panic started to settle in cruelly, and you inhaled more water than you had been prepared to. your body desperately missed air, and every time it tried to breathe, only more water entered your mouth. 

when jake yanked you back up by your hair, you spat out a load of water, and began to cough. he asked, “learn your lesson?”

you said nothing. you couldn’t at that point. 

jake took it as defiance and lowered your head back underneath the water again, giving you no time to recover from the previous plunge, and your entire body fought against it, but your efforts were in vain. 

and like before, he pulled you up and asked, “learn your lesson?”

“fuck you,” you spat as belligerently as you could between breaths, even though it hurt to talk. 

jake said nothing, throwing your head back down. 

at this point, your lungs were scorching and your nose was burning. your chest was smoldering with pain and panic and everything in between. helpless, your mind was begging for mercy, but the more you prayed for the water to escape, the more you inhaled.

your muscles were screaming for air and you genuinely thought that you were going to die, that this was the end. you would never know the life you had long dreamed of, the life you had risked everything to have, and the one you had always wanted.

it felt like an eternity had passed when jake brought you back up to the surface and asked you again boredly, “learn your lesson?”

you said nothing, spitting out more bursts of water and gasping for breaths that burned your throat.

jake was about to submerge you again, but at the very last second, you blurted, “okay, okay! i’m sorry. i learned my lesson!”

“good,” jake said, pulling you up and dusting his hands off. “let’s go inside.”

you didn’t dare disobey, letting him lead you inside the house, which you assumed he owned. there wasn’t any time to marvel at the sheer beauty of it before he was tugging you downstairs to the basement where there was already a mattress waiting for you. 

whether that had been prepared for you, or leftovers from the last victim, you didn’t want to know.

jake took one look at your flushed, tear-stained face and softened. he brought a finger to your cheek, but you lurched away from him, like a startled animal in a cage. which, to be fair, wasn’t too far from the truth. 

he frowned. “i wish you didn’t have to be so nosy, baby. i didn’t want you to see me any differently than before.”

it’s too late for that, you huffed to yourself. you fell to the ground beside the mattress, hugging your knees.

jake glanced down at you sighing, debating coming over to join you, but decided against it. for now. “but you don’t have to worry anymore. you’re safe with me. nothing can hurt you as long as i’m here. god, i’ve made sure of it. it angered me to no end when i saw that guy in the lobby flirting with you.”

you immediately remembered what had happened in that lobby, something you had been intent to mention to him but forgot, and the blood drained from your face. “what did you do to him?” you asked. 

“what do you think?”

you shook your head. no wonder there had been another person working the front desk earlier. you hugged your knees tighter and cried, “he was just some jerk, jake. you didn’t need to kill him.”

“yes, i did. i would kill anyone who ever dare dreamed of touching you,” jake insisted darkly.

now that you thought about it even harder, there was no reason for jake to even know that that whole ordeal went down in the first place. he hadn’t been there when it happened. you slowly glanced up, asking, “how did you… know?”

jake chuckled. “because i’ve been watching you, silly. how else?”

no shame, no guilt. he seemed proud of himself, grinning from ear to ear. the sight made you sick, but not as sick as it did to know that he had been essentially spying on you in his free time. you remembered, only a few days ago, asking him if the cameras were really functioning.

your stomach churned. that was why he always seemed to know where you were, to always drop into the places you were. that was how he knew you has been in his room, and how he knew you were fleeing.

even though you felt like vomiting the more information you learned, you needed to know the truth. “why did you kill that girl?”

“which one?” jake asked, which made your heart stop in absolute terror. “if you’re talking about alyssa, i found out she was addicted to drugs. god, everything was going so smoothly until all of that.”

if you could’ve convinced yourself that you were only in a nightmare, you would have, but the pain in your chest and throat was too aggressive. “i bet you killed that girl in the picture too,” you replied hoarsely.

jake’s eyes darkened, but it was less anger and more of a morose kind of emotion. “no, that’s not true. she died in a car accident.”

given the pain tensing his features, you believed him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to have any sympathy.

jake continued, “we were eighteen and we had just graduated. she was the girl everyone wanted me to be with, and the one i thought would always be with. then one day, she was just gone. i’ll never forget getting that phone call in the middle of the night.”

the words he used made you remember something. you had asked him what his first time was like, and jake had told you something along the lines of it being with someone he thought he would spend forever with.

that was her, the girl he had loved and lost. 

“i’m sorry you went through that,” you whispered, feeling as though you were obligated to console him in some way. 

“i am, too,” jake mumbled. “but life goes on. and i found you. god, you don’t know how many times i had to go through this to find you, but it’s over now. you remind me of her a lot.”

you froze in your own skin, suddenly having an epiphany. you didn’t understand before, why jake was doing all this, but it was all coming together now.

life may have moved on, but jake had not. instead of getting over the girl he had lost so many years ago, he was trying to recreate her, to get her back in some sick, twisted way. you would be the vessel needed to resuscitate her, and the girls before you were the other candidates that didn’t meet the mark. 

he had told you that. not outright, but it was what he’d meant, and the confession went right over your head. so many girls i thought were perfect, until they showed me their true colors. and it hurts to cut them loose, but you have to.

jake wasn’t killing girls out of some sadistic hatred. matter of fact, he didn’t even want to kill them, but he felt obligated to eliminate the unworthy. he was killing because they ultimately didn’t meet his standards.

which implied that someway, somehow, you did. as he put it, you were everything he’d ever wanted. 

“why me?” you asked, rubbing your eyes clear of tears.

jake at last approached you, and although you wanted to back away and hide, there was nowhere for you to go. “easy. from what you’ve told me, you’re the black sheep of your family. you didn’t even tell them where you were going. nobody is going to look for you. nobody will miss you. you’re perfect.”

those words were crueler than he intended for them to be, but jake wanted to be truthful with you, because that was the key to a long-lasting relationship. he wouldn’t hide from you, and he wouldn’t allow you to hide from him. you would be perfectly honest with each other.

“we’re going to have kids together someday,” jake rambled, holding your cheeks in his hands gingerly, almost with affection. “i’m going to take you to meet my parents, and they’re going to love you, because i love you. and we’re going to stay in this house.”

you glanced around. “here?”

jake sported a beaming smile. “it’s perfect, isn’t it? you love nature, and we’ll live right here along the creek. it’ll be just like how you grew up, except you’ll be accepted here.”

perfect, you repeated in your head bitterly. jake seemed to be as obsessed with that word as he was with you. he couldn’t stop saying it, and that revealed even more about his intentions the more he used it.

noticing the tension in your face, jake squeezed your hand and tried to console you. “don’t worry, i’m not going to keep you from your dreams. but you’re going to stay in this basement until you understand that you belong to me, and i belong to you.”

“i’m not your fucking property,” you hissed with unadulterated vitriol.

obviously, jake was growing exhausted of having to put up with your less than meek behavior, and before you could apologize, he hauled you up and tossed you onto the bed. you made a tiny, broken noise when he began to squeeze your throat instead. “i will whip you into shape if i have to,” jake growled. “i will fuck you into shape, everyday, if that’s what it takes, dear. i already made up my mind. you’re mine and i won’t let anyone else have you.”

your throat still ached from the pain of nearly drowning three times over, sorely pleading for quiet remorse, but jake was nothing short of committed. he would stop at nothing to bend you into submission, no matter the price needed, because when he wanted something enough, there was nobody that could tell him that it wasn’t his for the reaping.

not his parents, not you, not anyone.

true to his word, jake began to force one his hands underneath your pleaded skirt. he liked that you wore them, initially because he found them strangely cute on you, but now because of the easy access he had to everything he wanted.

you thrashed again enervatedly, sore from head to toe, but you told yourself endlessly that you weren’t a quitter. you couldn’t let him break you, not until he had broken all the fight out of you first. it would go against everything you stood for, everything you believed.

“behave,” jake said. “behave, or you’ll only make it worse on yourself.”

you roared expletives into his palm that jake couldn’t understand, nor did he bother to. not after he had caught a glimpse of your precious cunt and he had already begun to imagine making sweet love to you. the lingering picture was all he could think of.

how you had gripped his biceps, brows tensing together, calling out his name and his name only. jake knew you reciprocated his pining. he had seen the proof, felt it dripping and pulsing around his cock, milking his release out of him even quicker than he had hoped.

and really, honestly, jake didn’t want to hurt you or cause you any needless pain. one day, you would understand that he was only doing this from of a place of love and endearment. you gasped for breath when the hand on your throat finally slackened, sucking in the sharpest one you had ever inhaled, and could feel the basement reeling.

while you were busy blinking the misty daze out of your eyes, jake ran a hand between your legs, touching your clit. “jake, stop,” you rasped. 

“shh, let me make you feel good,” jake crooned softly in your ear. 

it was maddening that your body still reacted fondly to his deep voice and tender touches, and you hated every second of it. you resisted him, pressing your thighs together, but it took little to nothing for jake to spread them apart again, and your body naturally liked his strength, too. 

still, you tried to swat his hand away. now that you knew the truth of who he was really was, what he really was, you couldn’t stand to let a monster like jake to touch you. 

jake sighed irritably, and the look on his face made you shudder. “you’re just going to keep being a bitch about it, aren’t you?”

he only wanted to pleasure you, for fuck’s sake. why wouldn’t you let him?

“i don’t want this,” you whimpered, peering up at jake as you welled up with tears. 

“yes, you do,” jake told you, as if he was trying to convince you of something you already knew wasn’t true. “you do want it. remember?”

you shook your head, defiant. “that was before. it’s different now.”

“nothing has changed between us.” 

“everything has changed!” you cried out, bursting into sobs. “you’re not who i thought you were. you… hurt me.”

“i didn’t want to. i promise that i didn’t, honey,” jake whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “and the sooner you listen to me, the sooner i can make you feel better.”

he started to do exactly that, returning between your legs, this time sticking his face beneath your skirt. jake went to town, pulling out all the stops that he remembered had you singing his praises. 

not a moment later, you slumped in defeat, too weak from your unwanted orgasm to deny him any longer. jake smirked when he noticed you twitching from the aftershocks, licking his wet lips that had gotten soaked with your arousal.

“that’s it, baby,” jake said, proud of himself. he liked worshiping you, and even if you didn’t want to admit it, he knew he brought you to elysian heights. “ready to take my cock?”

you shook your head wearily, but jake didn’t believe you. only the day before yesterday, you had been so eager.

“come on, don’t be that way. you know you love this dick,” jake said. he had never looked more sure of himself, not hesitating to step out of his clothes.

although you wanted nothing more than to defy him, to spring up and make a beeline for the nearest door, you couldn’t bring yourself to. there wasn’t even time for you to tell him to stop before jake was spreading you open, prodding your entrance with the head of his cock.

and you were so wet that in spite of his size, he slipped inside with ease.

jake grunted at the first push of his cock inside you, slowly coaxing his way deeper. he slipped his fingers through yours, knowing that you liked to use his hand to anchor yourself because you quickly got overwhelmed by his size.

but he noticed that each time you were taking him even better, and jake liked the thought of successfully breaking you in. to him, it was the perfect fit. it was a sign that you were made for him to fuck and breed. your vice-like walls were gushing around him, kneading him, swallowing him whole. only him.

“that’s good, baby. don’t run from it,” jake crooned in your ears before sealing your lips together.

jake didn’t notice that you weren’t kissing him back. when his eyes were closed and he was buried some inches deep inside your pussy, it became easier to convince himself anything. because you may have denied him, but jake thought the body never lied, and yours was calling out to him. 

the weight of your body rocked in tandem with his thrusts and jake, wanting a better view of you, started to tug your shirt off. he already knew how to make you weak for him, sucking at your breasts.

every cry of protest you made fell on deaf ears, because all jake heard was that familiar breathlessness in your voice when he was making you feel good. 

and that was more than enough to jake. because if he had you, and you had him, nothing else mattered. why would you need some other guy in some faraway place when he had made you feel things you never knew you were even capable of?

he never even thought about how of those feelings he had plucked out of you, something could’ve completely overpowered any pleasant feelings you ever had.

it surprised you when jake grinded to a halt and pulled out of you, but you should’ve known better than to think he was finished. “get on top of me,” jake told you, overcome by memories. “i want you to ride me. like how you rode me that day.”

jake had this dazed look in his eyes that made him look more dangerous and unhinged than he ever had, and that was the sole reason you were so quick to scramble on top of him, but jake smiled, because he only saw it as unadulterated desire.

you grabbed his shoulders as you forced yourself to mount him, his hands slipping down to your backside, supporting you with his palms. it hadn’t been too long since they were someplace you could feel secure for the first time in a long while. and now that comfort was gone, and you had nowhere else to go, nothing else to turn to but yourself.

maybe you had been naive to think that someone could genuinely, truthfully like you. whatever jake felt for you, or at least thought that he did, was purebred obsession and without it there would be nothing left. 

it was the one thing keeping you breathing, and yet the one thing killing you slowly.

something wet dripped onto the pillar of jake’s shoulder and he saw that you were sobbing. tears of pleasure, he told himself. he remembered the wet glaze in your stare when the two of you had fucked the other day, too. nothing as theatrical as this, though he was certain it didn’t make a difference. 

but jake wasn’t afraid to hurt you, that much was clear. he may not have particularly liked it anymore than you did, but he would use it to justify everything. it’s okay if it hurts, because love hurts, he would console himself, telling himself that you would be okay.

“one day you’ll understand that i’m doing this because i want what’s best for us,” jake whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “i’ll make you happy every day until you die. anything you could ever want, i’ll make it happen, i promise.”

the way he spoke, you knew that he believed it in his very bones, and that only made it scarier. someway, somehow, jake had convinced himself that you were god walking, and now you weren’t sure what lengths he wouldn’t go to for your sake. 

tenderly kissing your jaw, jake continued, “i love you.”

you shook your head, knowing that it wasn’t true. “you can’t love me, jake. it’s only been five days.”

jake disagreed. he thought he had loved you from the second he laid eyes on you, a beautiful girl ambling along the creek line. he could smell your sweet scent on him and it made him remember catching you in his arms, pulling you close, and breathing you in for the first time. “i loved you long before i met you. you may not feel it right now, but you will soon. i’ll make sure of it.”

you exhaled a breath. there was no arguing with a mad man.

“i’ll make sure you’ll never want to live without me again,” jake whispered, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “that you can’t live without me.”

all you wanted was to get away from him. you were wishing you would’ve never came here, never gave him or this godforsaken place the time of day.

jake was nearing the threshold of what he could take and it was plain on his face. you weren’t fucking yourself on him with the same about of fervor as you had in the none too distant past, but he was too close to the edge to complain, driving his hips upwards into yours.

he was no longer listening to the pleas falling from between your lips, imagining that you were begging for him never to stop, never to let go of you. because he knew that deep down, that was what you wanted. you would get over these temporary, tiny frustrations. the same way he had gotten over them over and over.

did you think it was all fun and games for him? if you knew how many times he had been crushed and disappointed, how many times he had to let of something he wanted more than anything, you would finally understand that there nobody who understood you more than jake.

in a way, you were completing each other. he would give you the family you needed, and you would give him the relationship he always wanted.

“jake, you have to pull out,” you said to him, remembering he had gone in without a condom. “you have to…”

“shh,” jake shushed you, pressing your back to the mattress again, and seizing control.

when you tried to speak, jake just clamped his hand over your mouth to keep you silent and pliant, wanting to hear none of it. “didn’t i tell you? we’re going to build a family together, right here in this house.”

there was total, chaotic horror in your eyes. you hadn’t thought he meant so soon, so quickly. you were barely an adult and still sometimes felt like a child yourself, and you tried to tell him as much, but every word bled together and died on his palm.

with a few more unrelenting smacks of his hips into yours, jake leaned over and clamped his teeth into your shoulder as he came. and when he stilled, he kissed you, ignoring the taste of tears that had ran onto your lips.

“it’ll always be you and me now,” he panted, breathless. “you can’t leave me. you can’t.”

you lay there, helpless and hopeless, feeling something like bile scorching up your throat as you stared at him in disbelief.

“i’ll fuck you every day, i will,” jake said with every bit of conviction. “if it means that one of those days, i put a baby in you.”

there was nothing that you could say that your face wasn’t already saying for you. never in your life had you felt more used and violated, and that said a lot. 

and jake didn’t seem to be bothered. he lay down beside your shaking body, tightening his arms around you, loving the way the layers of sweat made you stick to each other, and made you a dirty promise. “don’t worry, i’ll take care of you both,” he said. “i swear.”

you closed your eyes, screaming inside your head, but having none of the strength to really do it. he had stolen it from you, stolen everything from you. your body wasn’t your own anymore.

“say it,” jake prompted, nibbling gently at your neck. “say you love me.”

you didn’t, and there wasn’t a single bone in your body that did, but jake terrified you now. this would haunt you more than the gun pressed to your back, or the throwing your head underwater. compared to now, those things seemed mild.

so you sucked in a breath, trying to will yourself to stay still even though there was no possible way with how close he was to you, and you lied, “i love you.”

jake grinned from ear to ear. “i know.”

[plethorawrites]

How the Batboys would react to finding out and dealing with you self harming/having severe depression.

TW: Mentions of cuts, blood, suicidal thoughts, incorrect use of pills, sort of implied eating disorders.

Please don't read if this could upset you in any way.

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---_

Bruce:

The first time he notices is also the first time you spend the night. The lights were dark and you were both a bit buzzed after downing several glasses of champagne to endure a boring event he invited you to as an excuse to see you. Of course he was more concerned with kissing the inside of your thighs than noticing the little healed scars on them.

He notices them the next morning though, when the sun is streaming through the window and you get up to find your clothes while assuming he's asleep. He wasn't. He saw the marks. The scars. He refrained from saying a word about them, waiting weeks for you to open up about them on your own terms. He could see they were healed so he wasn't terribly worried at that moment.

When you finally told him, you said you'd been clean for months. He had no reason to suspect you would start again.

But you did.

He didn't know the exact day, or the specific reason, all he knew is that you stopped wearing shorts to bed and stopped letting him leave the lights on to see you when you were intimate. You stopped smiling as often, too.

Of course, being a detective, he can tell when you start getting lethargic, not from work or stress but simply life itself. He hears when your words have less meaning, and your expressions are false. He makes it his mission to not let you fall into the spiral any more than you already have.

You might not want to tell him you're hurting yourself but he'd be damned if he didn't do whatever he could to make you stop. That started by holding you tighter at night so you couldn't sneak off to the bathroom to cut, he'd ask you to visit him at work, insist on every meal being at a restaurant so you didn't even have time to try to hurt yourself. And of course, he helps with the tasks you start struggling with, but pretends he doesn't notice.

He just says "Can I practice braiding your hair so I can help Cassandra?" and use it as a chance to make sure you don't start letting your hair tangle.

He even makes the braid a bit crooked even though he can French braid perfectly, just to sell it. He'll wash it, too, claiming it's: "A good excuse to spend time together." after a long day.

He just wants to make sure it's not getting greasy. He can see the guilt on your face when you sit in the tub, staring at the wall. You wanted to tell him to stop, that you could wash your own hair. But you probably couldn't. It felt like too much work and you just wanted to sink underneath the water of the tub for a few minutes of peace. He kept you upright though, kissing the back of your shoulder, the side of your neck, your cheek, making you hum.

You weren't able to feel much, emotionally speaking, but you could feel gratitude and love.

When he notices you skipping meals because you can't drag yourself to the kitchen or bother to cook, he will. He'll make anything, even if you change your mind about what sounds good and make him cook six different dishes before eventually accepting one of them. He doesn't care. He just wants you to eat. The second you show the slightest bit of interest in something, anything, it's yours. You make a comment about the beach sounding nice, the next thing you know he's taken the day off work and is driving you there with the top of a convertible down.

You say you kind of miss one of your old hobbies— be it painting or crochet, it doesn't matter what, the next day the nicest stuff for you to get back into it arrives. Fresh paints, massive canvases or imported yarn and crystal hooks. He watches, intently when you start to focus on something you like again, the heavy ache in his heart subsiding when he gets to show enthusiasm about your project when it's done.

You start holding him again at night, your face buried in his chest instead of sleeping facing the wall. One night you slide into bed wearing shorts and he can see your scars, red ones among the old faded pale ones from when you first met.

He knows they'll heal too in time. Just like you have.

---

Dick: He doesn't realize there's anything wrong several months into dating you until he catches you taking some pills when he was walking back into the room and later searched up the name, figuring out they're antidepressants.

He can't believe he didn't see it sooner and hates that you were always putting on a fake smile with him. He wants you to talk about it, but understands that it's hard for you too and your every attempt to open up to him ends with you in tears or walking out in frustration because the words won't form.

He suggests (very strongly) that you see a therapist and after some gentle coaxing, you agree. He sits in the car the entire time waiting for you and when you come out, numb for a few minutes as you sit there in silence before sobbing uncontrollably for the 20 minutes in the parking lot. He gets you whatever you want after— ice cream, cheesecake, brownies. Whatever you're craving.

He takes you every week, sometimes multiple times a week. He never complains and he's ALWAYS there. He'll wake up early, even if he barely slept. He'll skip family lunch, he'll rush out of a bank robbery just shouting for his brothers to handle it without him. It doesn't matter what, he'll be there.

He's taken to heavy positive affirmations, as well. He puts sticky notes up in the bathroom with smiley faces for whenever you brush your teeth or put on moisturizer. There are little hearts and words of encouragement on the front of the fridge and inside of it too for when you manage to crave a snack. Hopefully something healthy like fruit, but even if it's junk food, it's better than an empty stomach.

Every morning he wakes you up and tells you you're beautiful and he's grateful to have you.

He likes to remind you not to push yourself as well. "If you just manage to wash your hair, you'll have done something" and "If that's too hard, I'll help you make the bed." But also..."If you don't do anything at all today, you still survived. That alone is difficult, but you're doing it."

Every night he lays it on even thicker because he knows it gets harder at night. "I'm so proud of you for making it through another day." And... "I know it sucks right now but I promise I'll help you get through this." And... "Just take it one day at a time."

When you get homework from your therapist— to do 3 hard tasks over one week, make a list of every negative and positive thought to see them out loud and deduce why you have them, physical exercise—he does it with you. No matter how foolish or seemingly simple it is.

Your therapist told you to do something you struggle with? Done. He'll stand behind you while you do the dishes and help you dry.

You need to get something from a store that's dozens of miles away? Road trip. He'll buy the snacks and take turns driving so you don't het stressed out burn out.

You're told to get some physical exercise? He'll be your partner for whatever kind you want to do. Jogging in the park, keeping a slower pace than usual for you, practicing on rings while you climb the stairmaster—he falls, because he's distracted by your ass. But that's besides the point.

When you start to show signs of feeling better, that therapy is working, he's elated. And after several months and things are better, much better, you tell him whenever you're feeling off. Whenever that nagging feeling comes back over you. You guys work through it then and there to keep it from getting bad again.

Though sometimes, when he's leaving for work, you'll pout and say you feel sad just to get him to stay. You both know it's not a depressed feeling. You just don't want him to leave and he'll indulge you. "Oh, well, if that's the case, I'll just have to stay in bed with you until you feel better."

---

Jason: He's busy. Always. But that didn't mean he was oblivious. Yet, that's exactly how he felt when he realized you'd been abusing your medicine. He knew after the first few dates that you were on medication for chronic depression and he was more than understanding about it. Millions of people suffered from it, himself occasionally included.

But when he's laying in bed and catches you sneaking into the bathroom to take three more pills than you're supposed to, he's caught off guard. Then you slide down to the floor, sitting crisscrossed, making small cuts on your thighs, wincing in pain the entire time. It takes every ounce of self control not to jump out of bed and rip the blade from your hand. He contemplates it, he really does. But that would just make things worse. So he waits.

It keeps him up all night, though he pretends to sleep. And in the morning, you're back out of bed, taking more and sliding back in bed, pretending to wake up just like him.

He blames himself entirely.

He thinks he should have been better, done more, noticed something that made it better. It was his job to support you and protect you and he had failed and that killed him in ways that seemed unimaginable.

After an incredibly difficult conversation where he confesses to knowing you've been filling scripts you don't need and taking more than necessary, you're both an emotional mess. But he assures you he's not leaving or angry, just scared for you. He wants to help but needs you to let him.

He absolutely dedicates himself to keeping you away from anything even remotely dangerous.

The knives in the kitchen? Gone.

Even the butter knives are plastic now.

The razors in the bathroom? Thrown out in a trashcan outside so you couldn't find them.

Even the little blade in the pencil sharpener is taken out.

He won't let you have your pill bottles either, at least not at first. He makes sure you take them everyday, morning and night, then after several weeks starts to let you handle them by yourself.

He still sneaks out of bed to count them and make sure you weren't taking more than prescribed. He insists on being the one to wrap your arms, cleaning them to make sure they don't get infected. And wiping your legs as well. He has to remind himself not to squeeze them too hard, the way he wants to.

While holding you at night he makes sure not to hurt them, even though he wants to hold you much tighter to comfort himself as reassurance you're alright. He listens, late at night when you're whispering to avoid crying. When you explain the feeling it gave you. He knows it.

Once they heal and he can hold you tighter, not as afraid of hurting you by squeezing your thighs the way he likes to. He starts kissing them each night, making sure you know they're not embarrassing or shameful.

He's got scars on most of his body; you were the one to teach them to appreciate them. If he could return the favor, he would. A thousand times over.

He tells you the same things you told him. "You made it through."

---

Tim: When you tell Tim, and by tell I mean confess after he figured it out on his own, you're surprised to find that he doesn't have much of a reaction immediately. He stays quiet, hums a little, nods along. He never interrupts but you see his eyes glazing over a bit, the way they do when the gears start turning in his head. He knew, of course, that you had depression.

He knew you hurt yourself, not in the traditional way of cutting or attempting suicide, but in much subtler ways, like forcing yourself to finish a meal even though you're full and your stomach hurts, taking boiling hot showers that leave your skin red and raw practically painful to even touch from how dry it is, making yourself stay up late and function on the fewest hours of sleep possible.

You purposely made life harder for yourself and for the most part, didn't even realize it. He did, though. What he didn't realize was the amount of medicine you'd tried, to the point you felt none of them worked, the amount of therapists and psychiatrists you had seen, the level of depression you had truly sunk to before. It hurt him to realize once you started opening up. He wanted to make that pain go away. So, he researched. Constantly.

He wants to know every single thing that can cause depression, the statistics of self harm leading to suicide, the effectiveness of different treatments or facilities. He knows every antidepressant, their side effects, their manufacturers, and dosages. He suggests inpatient care for you, but absolutely refuses to send you to someplace like Arkham.

Instead, he finds the best of the best, way out of the city, where the entire staff passed his background check, the facility was up to date on every code possible, and the rules seemed relaxed enough to let you feel like yourself while also making sure you're safe. He's allowed to visit and does so as soon as possible, even manages to get extra hours in the night. You have the best of care there, too, he knows because he can see it on your face every time he's there.

The food is wonderful, the private room you have is nice (even if you miss his warmth at night), the activities they make you do remind you of the hobbies you used to love before they became unbearable. Even therapy sessions, always private because Tim knew you wouldn't want to speak about it in a group, are rather helpful.

When you get out after a few weeks, he's right there, waiting, like always. And he's got the biggest smile because he can see immediately the light back in your eyes that he missed so much. He keeps up with some of the tactics you learned or hobbies you started while there, gladly sitting on the floor with you while you do paper mache.

He always makes sure you know you're not weak for needing help and if you ever feel like you need to go back, even just for a week, or weekend, he'll be there for you. Just like always.

---

(Aged up. I imagine you both in LOA)

Damian: It didn't take a genius to know you were a miserable person. Most people in the league of assassins were. He rather liked your level of misery, usually. It was cynical, with a touch of wit and dark humor that always made him feel seen.

It wasn't until he caught sight of a few scars on your calf that he didn't recognize that he started to realize you were more miserable than he had originally thought. You tried to play it off, claiming you got hurt in a sparring match. But that was a lot and he knew it. Because A) you never lost. And B) the cut was at an angle a sword wouldn't be able to reach unless you were the one holding it.

You clearly didn't want to talk about it, so he wouldn't make you. He was always taught that emotions were weak and even though he didn't fully believe it as he used to, he still isn't big on a lot of sentimentality. Which is fine, because you aren't either.

He still keeps a quiet, very close eye on you. Maybe you noticed, maybe you didn't. He wasn't sure. He didn't care either way. He was worried and with your recent behavior, he felt he had every right to be. You started putting in less effort during training, if you even showed up at all. He'd find you on the balcony at night, leaning your head against the railing and staring at the gardens with a blank expression.

Even the things he knew you loved— your favorite foods, the music you liked to listen to on a record player while you got ready for bed. It stopped appealing to you. The meticulous way you'd fix your hair before bed every single night abruptly stopped, too. You simply fell asleep with it as is and woke up with it tangled. You still held him at night, but it felt less like an embrace for the both of you and more like you were clinging to him like a life line.

He pays extra close attention and anytime he isn't allowed to be by your side, he makes sure someone else is. It's hard to keep you away from sharp objects, given nearly everything around them was a weapon, but he tries to get you to vent your rage by cutting training dummies and not yourself.

He also takes you to the quieter, more secluded wing, into an empty room with pillows on the floor. He makes you sit with him and meditate, which he knows is hard at first, boring and you don't have the most energy, but he holds your hand, his fingers pressed to your pulse to make sure you're listening when he tells you to take a deep breath in and think— not of what you're grateful for, like some might suggest. No. Instead of asking you what you want to live for, he asks you what you can't die without. The grudges you're holding, the projects you haven't finished, the people who are just waiting to see you fail. He won't let you let them win.

And it works. That passion and drive slowly comes back with his help and support at your side, doing your hair for you at night and making sure someone brought you a meal three times a day even if he wasn't around to make sure you ate. Your need to be the best and spite anyone who thinks you aren't returns after a while.

One night he finds you training alone, sweat dripping from your brow, your scars both won in battle and self inflicted on display. Instead of interrupting, he simply watches, admiring your form which had improved since you started picking up your sword more often. He loved watching you find your spirit again.

[juudesgirl]

soulmates - jude bellingham

“a soulmate is someone who challenges you to do better, someone who can’t stand seeing you sad, someone who stays faithful, loyal and committed to you, someone who helps take care of you when you’re sick, someone who stands by your side through the good days and the bad days and someone who wants to grow old and grey with you”

if jude could picture the perfect person, it would be you. from the moment he had laid eyes on you, he knew you were something special.

you had met him through one of your friends, it had been your friends’ birthday and they had thrown a party to celebrate. after 5 minutes of arriving, you had bumped into jude navigating your way through the swarm of people at the party. as soon as your eyes locked, jude had been captivated by your beauty.

the way your doe eyes lit up, the blush formed on your cheeks by the heat of the room and the bright smile on your face as you looked at him, made his stomach do somersaults. he hadn’t seen anyone as beautiful as you, he knew he had to speak to you. throughout the night, you both were stuck by each others’ side all night - laughing at eachothers’ silly jokes, laughing at the semi-drunk people around you, it couldn’t of been a more perfect night.

you had exchanged numbers before leaving the party, as soon as you left, jude had messaged you straight away asking if you had enjoyed the party and if you had gotten home safely. from then, you kept contact with eachother regularly.

-

to say jude was obsessed with you, was definitely an understatement. whether it was at training or speaking to his family or one of his friends, he’d always mention you in his conversations - he couldn’t help it, he was reminded of you wherever or whatever he was doing, it was like you were stuck in his mind. jude wanted to be around you whether it calling you, texting you or seeing you, he just loved the feeling of you being in his life. jude loved spending time with you, even if it was just the both of you sitting down doing absolutely nothing, he enjoyed it. you were one of the few people who he felt safe and happy with, you were his person and he adored the hell out of you.

jude was one of those people that no matter what, always made you feel special. he’d always surprise you with getting your favourite flowers delivered to your house if he wasn’t around to show and let you know that no matter where he was, he was thinking of you and that he was missing you, he always wanted to show you the affection that you deserved. even after a tough training session, he’d stop by to see you. you loved being around jude, and he loved being around you, you both were like a breath of fresh air to eachother no matter how long you’d been seeing eachother.

as time went on, jude had started to fall for you more and more each day, he couldn’t help but not too. jude had mentioned you to his family, always praising you and telling them how much you meant to him, and how excited he was for them to meet you. family is an important factor in jude’s life, so to have you all together, would be so important to him. his family especially his little brother jobe, were happy for jude to have finally found someone, especially someone who’s been able to bring the spark back into his life - they were excited to meet you.

“you know there’s no one else I’d rather be with other than you? you really do make every day worth living and i enjoy spending any bit of time I have with you” jude said to while standing outside of your house, dropping you off after another successful date.

“i love spending time with you too jude. i haven’t met someone like you who makes me laugh so much or makes me feel so comfortable before” you gushed, while brushing your hand on his cheek, while his hands found your waist and pulled you close.

“i feel the same y/n, you’ve made me the happiest i’ve felt in a very long time. there’s never not a time where i’m not thinking when i’ll see you again or thinking about you. i just want to be with you all the time, i just want you around all the time. so i was wondering if you wanna be my girlfriend?” jude said nervously. you could tell he was nervous, the grip he had on your waist had loosened and he begun to chew bottom lip as he waited for your answer. “i understand i-if you say n-no it is too soon and i-” he started once again before you interrupted him with a beaming smile.

“aw jude, of course i want to be your girlfriend. you don’t know how long i’ve been waiting for you to ask me” you said giggling while putting your arms around his neck softly.

jude laughed softly before he pulled you into a soft hug. his head instantly fell the crook of your neck and he began to place soft and delicate kisses on your neck as you hugged. liking the softness of his kisses along your neck, you decided to tilt your head back and to enjoy the feeling more. he placed a few more on your neck, before pulling away and leaning his head onto yours which made stand up onto your tiptoes before kissing him softly. you both sighed happily into the kiss, very thankful for this sweet moment and how excited you were to be jude’s girlfriend.

as you and jude kissed, he begun to think about how his life has changed dramatically so quickly. he always knew you were special, and sometimes he joked but seriously thought you was his guardian angel. once upon a time, he was in the most dark and fragile time of his life. he didn’t think that he’d be able to come back after the hard times at all. then you came along into his life unexpectedly, protected and guided him throughout the journey and helped him to feel like him again.

jude couldn’t help but fall in love with you, as everything shattered, you came along and picked all the pieces up and fixed it. jude was finally as happy as he could be; all because of you, because you saved him and knew from the moment he met you, you were soulmates and you’d find eachother in every lifetime no matter where you guys were.

[meazalykov]

cherished birthday

ewa pajor x reader

the best birthday of your life, and you are happy that she is here with you for it

in honor of my twentieth birthday being yesterday <3

growing up, birthdays weren’t much of a thing in your house. 

there were never any balloons tied to the dining chairs, no cake adorned with bright candles, no presents stacked in colorful wrapping paper. maybe there’d be a hurried "happy birthday" tossed your way in passing, but even that was rare. 

most years, it was just another day, and you’d long since learned not to expect anything different. 

so, you grew up pretending it didn’t matter.  

when you met ewa, she’d asked you about your birthday once, early in your relationship.  

"what do you usually like to do for it?" she’d asked casually, her hands busy tying her shoelaces before practice.  

you stood over her, remembering when ewa still played in your old city of wolfsburg..

you’d shrugged at her question. 

"nothing special."  

"nothing at all?" her eyebrows furrowed slightly. for a moment, you thought she might press further.  

"yeah, it’s not a big deal," you’d said, brushing it off with a nonchalance you had perfected over the years. ewa left it at that, maybe sensing the wall you’d put up around the topic.  

the truth was, it did matter. it mattered in ways you hated admitting, even to yourself. every year, like clockwork, a small, hollow ache would settle in your chest as the date crept closer. you’d see pictures of other people’s birthdays online…friends being showered with love, cakes topped with sparklers, laughter, and parties that seemed endless everytime you sat in the corner at one of them. 

every year, you’d tell yourself it didn’t bother you. you’d remind yourself you weren’t the kind of person who needed that kind of attention.  

ewa didn’t know any of this. not about the way your heart twisted a little when someone casually mentioned their birthday plans, or the fleeting envy you felt when her teammates threw each other surprise parties in the locker room. 

you were good at hiding it, at playing it cool.  

that’s how you ended up here, sitting on the bleachers after one of barcelona’s training sessions, sipping water and idly scrolling through your phone while ewa and her teammates cooled down back in the locker rooms. 

it wasn’t until keira plopped down next to you that you realized you weren’t alone.  

"hey," keira said, wiping sweat off her forehead with the edge of her jersey.  

"hey," you replied, glancing up briefly with a small smile.  

she stretched her legs out in front of her, letting out a content sigh. 

"so, ewa says your birthday’s coming up."  

your stomach clenched. 

"oh, uh, yeah. it’s nothing big."  

"she said that too," keira said, giving you a curious look. 

"but she seemed a little confused about why you didn’t want to do anything for it."  

you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 

"it’s just another day."  

"you sure about that?" keira asked, her tone gentle but probing.  

"yeah," you said quickly, too quickly. you could feel her watching you, and it made you fidget with the cap of your water bottle.  

"y/n," keira started after a moment, leaning back on her elbows, 

"i don’t know what’s going on, but everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. even you."  

the english woman’s words made your throat tighten. 

you stared at the pitch, watching an assistant coach place a few balls back into a large bag.  

"i’ve just… never really celebrated it," you admitted quietly, surprising even yourself with the confession.  

keira turned her head to look at you, her expression softening. 

"never?"  

"not really," you muttered, twisting the bottle cap in your hands. 

"my parents… they weren’t the kind of people who made a big deal out of stuff like that. so, i just got used to it."  

keira didn’t say anything right away, letting the weight of your words settle between you. finally, she said, "does ewa know?"  

you shook your head. 

"i’ve never told her. it’s not like it matters anyway."  

keira let out a small huff of disbelief. 

"of course, it matters. you’re with her now, yeah? she’d want to know."  

"maybe," you said softly, your voice barely audible.  

keira nudged your shoulder lightly. 

"just think about it, okay? you deserve to be celebrated. even if it’s something small. let her do that for you."  

five days before your birthday, you were at work, buried in the usual chaos. the sound of the phone ringing, the hum of conversations around you, and the clicking of keyboards filled the air. 

you moved through your day, keeping busy to distract yourself from the fact that your 29th birthday was right around the corner. birthdays had never been much to you, just a day that came and went like any other. 

you convinced yourself it didn’t matter.  

this year, something will be different. unbeknownst to you, ewa was planning something.  

it started after practice.. after you left from talking to keira. you told ewa that you will see her at home and went back to work.. keira approached ewa in the locker room. leaning casually against her locker, keira tilted her head and crossed her arms.  

"ewa, can i talk to you for a second?"  

ewa, in the middle of untying her laces, looked up. 

"sure, what’s up?"  

keira’s tone softened. 

"it’s about y/n’s birthday. have you thought about doing something for her?"  

ewa frowned, straightening up. 

"i’ve asked her about it before. she always says it’s not a big deal."  

"yeah, i know she says that," keira said, 

"but do you really believe her?"  

ewa hesitated. 

"i don’t not. at the same time, i don’t want to push her or her boundaries if she’s not comfortable."  

keira sighed, sitting down next to ewa. 

"look, i had a conversation with her earlier, and she admitted she’s never really celebrated her birthday. like, ever. i think she downplays it because she’s used to it being ignored. the way she said it though… i also think, deep down, she wants to feel special. she deserves to feel special."  

ewa’s brows knit together, concern flickering in her eyes. 

"are you sure?"  

"trust me," keira said firmly. 

"a small celebration with people who care about her? it’ll mean the world to her, even if she pretends it doesn’t."  

ewa nodded slowly, her mind already spinning with ideas. 

"okay. i’ll do it. i’ll make it special for her."  

that evening, while you were still busy at work, ewa began planning. the first thing she did was call your mutual friends back in wolfsburg.  

"you want us to come to barcelona?" alex popp asked, her voice light through the phone.  

"yes," ewa said. 

"it’s y/n’s birthday soon, and i want to surprise her."  

"of course, i’m in!" alex said enthusiastically.  

"me too," lynn chimed in when ewa called her. 

"you know i’d never miss it."  

with the guest list set, ewa turned her attention to the details. she ordered an ice cream cake…your absolute favorite…and spent hours picking out decorations that were simple yet elegant for an upcoming 29 year old. 

she also started shopping for presents, determined to spoil you despite knowing your friends would bring gifts as well.  

throughout the week, ewa coordinated everything while keeping it a secret from you. she hid her phone conversations and made sure you didn’t catch on to her plans. 

you, on the other hand, were completely oblivious. you’d convinced yourself that your birthday would be just another ordinary day. but keira’s words lingered in the back of your mind: 

everyone deserves to feel special on their birthday. 

so, you decided to do something small for yourself this year. just a little treat.  

finally, your birthday arrived. 

you woke up to the soft warmth of ewa’s arms around you, her voice a gentle murmur in your ear.  

"wszystkiego najlepszego, kochanie," she whispered, pressing light kisses to your temple, your cheek, and finally your lips.  

your heart fluttered at the sound of her voice, and you smiled sleepily. 

"thank you."  

ewa watched as you stretched and sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. the woman’s eyes trailed down your naked back..

when you started to get out of bed, she frowned.  

"where are you going?" she asked, propping herself up on one elbow.  

"i have a few appointments," you said casually, pulling on a pair of slippers.  

ewa blinked, confused. 

"appointments? on your birthday?"  

"yeah," you said, avoiding her gaze. 

"not for work… just a pedicure, manicure, and a massage for myself. nothing big."  

ewa’s confusion melted into a warm smile.

"you’re treating yourself?"  

you nodded, feeling a little shy.

"i guess i’m just trying to be nicer to myself this year."  

ewa reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. 

"i’m proud of you, love."  

you smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

"thanks. i’ll be back around five, okay?"  

"perfect," ewa said, her heart racing as she realized how perfectly your schedule lined up with her plans. almost afraid that your plans would have jeopardized the surprise party. 

as soon as you left, ewa started putting things together. by the time five o’clock rolled around, the house was completely transformed. balloons in your favorite colors floated around the dining room, and a banner reading "happy birthday" hung across the wall. 

the beautiful ice cream cake sat in the fridge, ready for its big reveal.  

your friends from wolfsburg had arrived earlier in the day, along with some of ewa’s barcelona teammates. keira, kika, esmee, caroline, ingrid, lynn, and alex were all there, mingling and laughing as they waited for your return.  

some of your non-footballer friends were here as well, waiting to see their special friend. 

when you finally walked through the door, you noticed the lights were off, but a few stray balloons caught your attention. 

you frowned, stepping further inside.  

"ewa?" you called out, your voice hesitant.  

suddenly, the lights flickered on, and a chorus of voices shouted, "surprise!"  

you froze, your eyes widening as you took in the scene. the dining room was filled with people…your friends from wolfsburg, ewa’s barcelona teammates, and even caroline and ingrid, who you've known forever since they played with ewa at both of her clubs.  

"happy birthday!" alex said, pulling you into a tight hug.  

"you didn’t think we’d let you have a boring birthday, did you?" lynn teased, the dutch grinning ear to ear.  

"what… how…?" you stammered, overwhelmed by the sight of so many familiar faces.  

ewa appeared by your side, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

"i wanted to do something special for you. you deserve it."  

tears pricked your eyes as you looked around the room, the warmth and love radiating from everyone filling your chest.  

the evening was nothing short of magical. you laughed until your sides hurt, danced with ewa and your friends, and even got competitive during an intense round of uno. when it was time for the cake, you closed your eyes and made a wish, the warmth in your chest spreading as everyone sang "happy birthday" to you.  

by the end of the night, after everyone had left around 2 a.m., you sat on the couch with ewa, tears streaming down your face.  

"thank you," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.  

ewa cupped your face in her hands, her eyes soft and full of love. 

"you deserve to be celebrated, kochanie. i hope this year brings you nothing but happiness."  

she leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. 

"happy 29th, my love."  

you smiled through your tears, your heart fuller than it had ever been. 

masterlist

[sirfrogsworth]

So, I did know the basic psychology of this. Or I have a good guess at least. But I was too tired and just needed a way to end the post quickly. I am running on fumes nearly all the time and sometimes I just do whatever I need so I can publish something and feel like I accomplished a goal.

But a few people are having issues with what I said.

They mentioned that autistic folks find comfort in repetition and feel like I am calling that sad. I definitely see that as a possible interpretation and I appreciate them mentioning feeling that way.

But I just wanted to use a little bit of energy to address why I don't think I was referring to these normal, healthy coping mechanisms. I mentioned in a reply that my father actually needed to watch the same show over and over because he was too sick to concentrate on something unfamiliar. I get why it can be helpful.

Firstly, I don't know many autistic people who trap everyone they know at a party and play the same 12 songs over and over.

By and large, that aspect was what I found most sad.

But aside from that, I see this repetitive behavior as a very different thing.

In fact, I would say it isn't the behavior itself... it is the *reason* for the behavior.

I see Trump's repetitive behavior more as living in the past, stuck in his ways, being stubborn, and unwilling to try new things. Something I see a lot with elderly conservative folks. They yearn for a better time in the past when they forgot all of the shitty things and only remember happy times. They say music was better in the good old days and refuse to consider any good music could be created outside of that golden age.

Trump is stuck in the 80s and 90s. He was young and healthy and grabbing pussy and fucking models (with and without consent) and going to parties of important people. He was invited to celebrity weddings and was literally Regis Philbin's best friend. Society generally liked him. He was just the goofy rich guy with the hair and many of us thought he was really good at business. Something enhanced by The Apprentice which was heavily edited to make him seem like a business genius. He likes people thinking he is good at business more than he likes being president.

I actually think he hates being president and only ran this time to stay out of jail.

Trump is not well liked as he used to be. No matter how many cult members love and praise him, he remains deeply unhappy. His wife refuses to touch or even kiss him in public. She does this little hand escape thing every time he tries to hold her hand. And when he tries to kiss her she makes him do that French thing where he has to kiss the air near her head.

Every one of his current "friends" is just playing the game. They are hoping their fealty will help them climb the ladder. I doubt he has a single genuine friend left. Except maybe Rudy Guiliani, who turned into a fucking nutball.

He was traumatized from being inches away from death and I think that was the real reason he moved his inauguration inside. A life long New Yorker is pretty well adapted to the cold.

He probably has erectile dysfunction. He is said to need a diaper. People say he smells really bad. Getting old sucks for everyone, but it is devastating to a narcissist of Trump's caliber.

Trump is in a psychological prison of unhappiness and all he has left is his rallies and his parties where he tries to trigger memories of better times. He has the world's thickest nostalgia glasses.

Why do you think he says "Make America Great AGAIN"?

He says he is going to restore the US to its "former glory."

Almost every personal and political goal of his is based on restoring how things used to be. Which is why he so easily fit into the regressive Republican party despite being a New York Democrat for most of his life.

Trump has elderly nostalgia brain and he is stuck in a loop. He is desperately trying to recreate his glory days.

I get why people had an issue with the caption. And I should have waited until I had more energy to clarify.

In the end, this man is stuck in his ways and stupendously uncurious of new things.

And those are terrible traits for a president.

[ckret2]

Bill's getting a makeover from Pacifica!! Yaaay

And what good will it do him?

Here's chapter 83 of human Bill Cipher being more of a prisoner in his body than in the Mystery Shack by this point: the shack's decided that the only possible thing that can save them from certain doom is getting Bill to flirt with a government agent, and Pacifica's recruited to help.

She does NOT know who her customer is.

####

"Folks, I'm not exaggerating when I say that out of all my duties as mayor, there's no greater honor than getting to host the county's annual Best Baby Ever Pageant and meeting all your beautiful and talented children. When I look in each young shape's bright little eye, and know that in this room are this county's future priests, police officers, teachers, doctors, entrepreneurs, maybe even the mayor of tomorrow... It gives me hope for the future." The mayor lowered his voice conspiratorially, "And it doesn't hurt that I get to declare it a city holiday and lock town hall's door for the day, either."

The parents in the audience chuckled appreciatively. Their children, who would have had the day off anyway and frankly found this a whole lot more work, mostly didn't.

"But all good things must come to an end, and we've reached the end of this year's competition." The major gestured to the contestants behind him, lined up in front of a temporary backdrop with a cheapy, shiny curtain. Most of the contestants were being held by a parent, but a few were old enough to fidget in front of the crowd all alone. "We've awarded all the individual prizes for each age bracket—which have gone to kids with any number of sides, with ages ranging everywhere from five years old to five hours old—and now all we have left is this year's grand prize!"

An enormous trophy waited to the mayor's side. It was plastic and hollow, but it was painted gold and taller than most of the children.

The mayor said, "And the winner of this year's Best Baby Ever award is... " Someone at the back of the hall played a pre-recorded drumroll through a tinny speaker. "The overall winner from the Age 0-6 Months category—Billy Cipher!"

Scalene let out a squeal of excitement that was audible over the applause. Bill startled awake in her arm and blinked sleepily around the room.

Several of the other parents on stage surreptitiously shot Scalene dirty looks—of course her kid had won, who could deny a newborn a prize on his birthday? It would be adorable. The judges had probably leaped at the opportunity.

Scalene shifted Bill in front of herself so the audience could see him better and so she could flash a hidden razor-sharp grin to a couple of her defeated rivals. That was exactly why she'd brought him today.

"Congratulations," the mayor said, placing a very tiny crown atop Bill. Bill endured this with patient, sleepy befuddlement. "Billy will be going home with the grand prize trophy and cash prize—as well as a full set of cutlery from our sponser, Knifeco Knives! But of course we'll hand that to mama to handle," he chuckled. "And the top winners from the other brackets will receive four-piece cutlery gift sets from Knifeco, which include—"

Scalene snatched the microphone from the mayor, jabbed him aside with one corner, and gushed to the crowd, "Thank you so much! I'm sure I'm speaking for my little Billy when I say just how grateful and honored he'll be when he's old enough to understand what a gift you've given him." She beamed out at the crowd, her flashy candy apple red makeup (she'd hastily slathered herself in side liner on her way to the pageant) drowning out every other shape on the stage—except for the naturally neon yellow infant in her arm. "As some of the pageant regulars—"

The mayor said, "Scalene, we didn't actually schedule time for the winners to make speeches—"

She sweetly whispered, "No one wants to hear about the sponsor, Otto," and pushed him aside. "As some of the pageant regulars here already know—I see you out there, hello!—I'm a pageant queen myself—(Miss Teen Curvy Strait three separate years!)—so, as a new mother, I'm so pleased that my little golden child is following in the family footsteps. I..."

The spotlights were blazing hot. She didn't understand how Bill—now wide awake again—could stare straight into the piercing lights without even blinking. Maybe he was blind; it would figure, considering what the afterbirth looked like.

Her knees were weak. Her sides screamed in pain. She shifted her grip to hold Bill more securely and to try to coax the sharpest spot of pain on that side to migrate to a fresh spot, shook off a wave of dizziness, and went on, "I hope that this is just the first of many future crowns for me—myyy sweet little Billy, ahem. I can promise you'll be seeing a lot of him in... in the..."

With a thud, she passed out and collapsed against the theater backdrop.

A nearby child squeaked in alarm.

"Scalene?!" Euclid was at the back of the audience, having snuck in during the closing ceremonies and hovered near the door where he could at least hear as the winners were announced. Now, as the mayor and several other pageant parents rushed to Scalene's side, he shoved his way through the crowd. "Move, that's my wife! Dang it, I told you to use your cane!"

One of the other mothers pulled out a copy of the program and fanned Scalene's eye. The mayor scooped up Bill and checked him for injuries. "Are you alright, little tri?"

Still too small to move himself, his eye darted in a panic to his mother's face, to the bright bright spotlights, to his mother again, to the blurry blue of his father buried deep in a sea of other shapes, to the mayor and the many strange faces crowded around him—and then he swallowed back his oversized eye to open his mouth and wail.

Which was the exact moment the stage curtain caught fire.

####

A bearded man with his hair done up in black liberty spikes and a spider web tattoo climbing up his left arm watched as Pacifica dumped several shopping bags of makeup onto her desk. "This visitor must be really important. You never pass up doing these guys' weekly grooming." He was sitting on the barn floor, brushing an alpaca with long, silky white hair.

"You have no idea." Pacifica stuffed the shopping bags in the wastebasket surreptitiously hidden under her far-too-big U-shaped executive desk, and quickly sorted the beauty supplies into their proper order of operations.

"Didn't you say it's Mabel and one of her friends? Mabel's here all the time."

"It's not just any friend, Spiderwebs!" Pacifica pulled a locket out of a desk drawer, ran over to Spiderwebs, and popped it open. "It's this friend! I've never met him before, all I know is that he has the most gorgeous hair I've ever seen. I have got to make a good first impression."

Spiderwebs and the alpaca inspected the locket's contents. He said, "You've never met him and you've got some of his hair in a locket?"

Pacifica flushed. "Th— Shut up!" She snapped the locket shut and stuffed it in a pocket. "I had the locket just lying around anyway, it's whatever."

At the sound of voices outside, Pacifica gasped. "They're here! Do I look okay?!"

Spiderwebs—whose entire outfit cost less than Pacifica's left sock and who quite frankly found the amount of makeup Pacifica wore concerning for a child her age—said, "Sure, fine."

"Great!" Pacifica bounced on the balls of her feet, squealed in excitement, and ran outside to greet Mabel and her friend. "Heyyy there! I'm Pacifica Northwest, it's so nice to meet—" She froze, "you..."

Before her stood a person with the most beautiful golden hair she'd ever seen.

Which was attached to a lady in a t-shirt, an eyepatch, a bedsheet, and cheap novelty slippers that look like fish. 

On top of that, the lady was mildly sunburned (obviously no moisturizer), wasn't wearing a bra, was leaning on an umbrella like a cane, clearly hadn't shaved in a while, had a very obvious fake tooth, had a weird bulgy eye, sort of smelled like fish (please don't let it be the slippers), and, to cap it all off, was fat.

Pacifica was working on herself. She was trying to unlearn the lessons about beauty she'd learned from her mom, and from the child pageant circuit, and from all her judgy friends, and from the modeling industry. She was slowly getting comfortable with the idea that physical beauty wasn't everything.

However. So far, that meant she'd been working on accepting ideas like it's okay if sometimes I'm an 8/10 instead of a 10/10. She had not yet tackled the far more daunting proposition of internalizing concepts like it's okay if sometimes other people are ugly.

Which was a problem, if she was going to give this person a makeover.

She swallowed hard and rearranged her expectations for the afternoon.

"Hey Pacifica!" Mabel beamed at her. "Thanks sooo much helping! This is Goldie, he's your customer. Goldie, this is Pacifica." Mabel gasped. "Giorgio, you're lookin' so fiiiine!" She ran into the barn to greet the alpaca Spiderwebs was grooming.

Leaving Pacifica outside with a stranger with a very creepy smile. Pacifica said, "Ummm..."

"The feeling's mutual, haha." On top of everything else, Goldie had a weird, nasally voice.

He, Mabel had said. "Hey, um," said Pacifica, who had never actually been in this position before and wasn't quite sure the polite way to handle it, "not to be rude, but... are you a guy, orrr...?"

"I'm whatever makes this conversation easiest. Don't overthink it!" He swept around Pacifica, hands clasped behind his back and around his umbrella, and sauntered into the barn. Which was kind of impressive, because fish-shaped slippers didn't seem designed for sauntering.

"So... guy?" Pacifica tried.

"For you? Sure," Goldie said indulgently. "Our target's expecting a lady, though, so—" Without turning toward Pacifica, he gestured up-and-down at his body. "Expect to femme this thing up."

Pacifica bit her lips as she swallowed down the most profound disappointment of her life so far, readjusted her expectations for the evening, and figured out what to say. She may not have unlearned the instinct to be shallowly judgmental, but she'd at least made progress on learning to keep it in her head. Most of it. Some—some of it. She'd keep some of it to herself. "Oh-kay. I don't know what Mabel told you, but—just so you know, I'm not running some charity barbershop for the homeless, all right? I'm a professional. I take looks seriously. I'm not going to soften the truth just because you're Mabel's friend, so—if you're not okay with that, you should just go home now."

He turned to glance at her, his trajectory curving to the side as he did; and suddenly she felt like a very small fish being circled by a hungry stingray. "Wow! You and Mabel both had to warn me! At this point, I'll be disappointed if you're polite." Goldie laughed. "Don't worry, I wasn't expecting a barbershop." He used his umbrella to gesture around at the barn, "A barbershop would smell less like farm animals." He flipped up his eyepatch (he had a whole second eye under there?) so he could shoot Pacifica a sly sideways glance. "Maybe personality can make up for looks. Right?"

Pacifica's face flushed red. Personality can make up for looks was what Pacifica's mom said other moms told their ugly daughters when they entered pageants they had no shot of winning. "Hey, how dare you! Maybe this barn is an ugly salon—but it's a beautiful ranch!" She huffed, "Anyway, I didn't have a choice! I couldn't bring you home in front of my parents. You're better suited to the barn."

She regretted it the moment the words were out of her mouth—that was the kind of thing she was trying not to say to people as often—but Goldie's grin only widened. "Just do what you can with this flesh scarecrow I'm wearing, Alpaca. I know what beauty standards around here are like, I know what I look like, and I'm more apathetic about this body than you could possibly imagine. You won't hurt my feelings!" He flipped his eyepatch back down and glanced away from her, eye roving around the barn ceiling like a searchlight trying to find a stray bat. "Nobody goes to a coach because they're expecting to be told 'you're beautiful just the way you are'!"

A coach—like a pageant coach? He was making an awful lot of allusions to the pageant world. Just to make fun of her, or...? "You're lucky I'm not a coach. You couldn't afford my rates."

Goldie laughed. "You'd overcharge!" And then he ignored her, turning his attention to her one full-time employee. "Hey, Spiderwebs! So this is where you ended up! Workin' hard or hardly workin'?"

Spiderwebs looked up from the aplaca he was tending to to frown at Goldie. "Do I know you?"

"Know me? You picked a fight with me once!"

"Oh. Who won?"

"By the time I was finished with you, you were stone-cold unconscious!"

"That's probably why I don't remember it."

While Goldie was distracted talking to Spiderwebs, Pacifica knelt by Mabel—who was crouched to wrap her arms around Giorgio's neck and nuzzle him—and muttered, "Your friend's a major creep."

"What did he do," Mabel asked.

Pacifica thought. What did he do? Say he wouldn't be offended by brutal honesty? Tell her her barn smelled like a barn? "Nothing, it's just—the way he did it."

"Yeah," Mabel sighed. "We're working on his people skills." At least she didn't think Pacifica was crazy.

"Hey, does Goldie have any, like... beauty industry experience, that you know of?"

"His mom was a model," Mabel said. "And he did some stuff with beauty pageants?"

"Yeah? What kind of stuff?"

"Ummm..." Mabel grimaced uncertainly. "Tech... stuff...?" Okay, she clearly didn't have a clue. But that was what she'd wanted to know: yes, he was familiar with the pageant scene. She readjusted her expectations for the afternoon for the second time in as many minutes.

Apparently finished with Spiderwebs, Goldie called, "Anyway, I'm not trying to win ay supreme crowns!" Make that familiar with the pageant scene and wanted to make sure Pacifica knew that. "Just seduce some government agent who already thinks this is hot. You're lucky, we have an easy target!"

Mabel said, "This guy!" She unwrapped one arm from around Giorgio's neck to hold her phone out.

Pacifica took it. It was displaying a distinguished-looking middle-aged gentleman with a no-nonsense frown in a classy black suit. Her eyebrows went up. Ooh. The suit was kind of cheap, but it was well-tailored, which made a world of difference. Looked like he took care of himself, too. Definitely worked out. Too bad about the hair, but hey, Pacifica happened to know a great product that could help with that.

She put a hand on Mabel's arm. "I will help Goldie win his heart."

####

Bill hardly glanced around as Pacifica led them into her office; he was familiar with the space. By daylight, it looked less "rustic" and more "cutesy overpriced modern farmhouse." 

"I've got everything set up in my office," Pacifica said, coming in with Mabel behind her. There was indeed a wide variety of makeup supplies spread out on her desk. "But the makeup has to wait, we've got to start with your hair."

Bill fought back a cringe. "Don't want to save the best for last?"

"Always do your hair first," Pacifica said firmly. She ducked through a door into a bathroom connected to her office. "That's your first fashion lesson. You can't wash your hair with a face full of makeup. And trying to use a blow dryer or hair iron around your makeup makes you look like a melting wax figure."

"I've seen those in person," Mabel said. "Pacifica's right, that's not a cute look. Especially when the eyeballs start rolling out! Apparently, wax figures' eyeballs are made out of glass?"

Bill made a beeline for the corner where he knew Pacifica kept a folding chair and asked, "Hey, what happened to all those eyes, anyway?" Mabel always needed new arts and crafts supplies, and he bet those would be great for jewelry.

"We stuck them in a big jar." Mabel was lurking in the bathroom door, watching Pacifica. "They're still cursed, though. They turn to look at you when you walk by."

"Even better."

"I can see why the Pines family likes you," Pacifica grumbled.

Bill could think of three Pines who would heartily disagree with that claim. "Oh, please! They can only wish they were half as weird as me." He set up the folding chair in the open space in front of Pacifica's desk—then froze. Huh.

Bill knew lots of things. He had trillions of eyes. He was used to walking into rooms and just knowing what was in them.

Except this room hadn't existed when he'd had all his eyes. It had been built after his death. So why did he already know what it looked like? How had he known where to find a folding chair?

He shut his eyes, trying to work through the déjà vu to picture what angle he'd seen the room at before, and where his eye must have been in order for him to see it; and then he looked at the wall beside the desk. There were several flat glass cases against the wall with alpaca wool goods sealed inside—a scarf, a sweater... He stared at his own face in the middle of a tapestry of his zodiac, preserved like a hunting trophy in a case labeled "First Blanket." Huh. It wasn't some local hick's den after all. Just a local rich girl roleplaying at being a hick.

He studied his true face for a long moment—and then cast a resentful look at the desk covered in makeup, in shades of beige and red. What would any of this sludge do for him? He'd be just as ugly at the end of it.

But Bill wasn't getting a makeover to look beautiful. He was getting it to seduce a human. And those were two diametrically opposed goals.

He missed his face so much.

"It's not illegal," Pacifica said.

Bill gave her a baffled look. "What?"

She pointed at the blanket, "It's not illegal to display a picture of the triangle guy as long as it's got that ring of symbols around it. It, like, repels him or something."

"Oh, does it," Bill said dryly. "It takes the evil eye to avert the evil eye, huh? Hey, maybe I should get one of these! Whaddaya think, Mabel?"

"I already told you I'm not making another!"

"But how am I gonna repel the triangle guy?" he asked, grinning impishly. "What if I'm in danger! The triangle guy could get me! Wouldn't that be terrible?"

"Knock it off! You already stole Soos's."

He expected Pacifica to come back from the bathroom with a brush or something; instead, she held up a spray bottle and said, "Okay, come in—and bring the chair." Bill's heart sank. "We're gonna have to rinse your hair in my sink, sorry."

Bill suppressed a sigh. "It's not the worst thing I've ever done to this hair!" He picked up the chair to carry into the next room.

"All I can do for now is rinse your hair. I don't have any shampoo for your hair texture because I did not think the situation was going to be this dire. No offense," Pacifica said. "You'll have to shampoo at home. You got the hair product samples I sent to the Mystery Shack, right? Were you able to order the full products? I don't know what your budget looks like."

"Don't worry about it, I still have the leftovers from the samples."

He watched in glee as Pacifica died a little on the inside. "Th— Those were one use sample sizes. It's been a month, how do you still have leftovers."

In truth, Pacifica severely overestimated the amount of hair product needed to keep hair clean; but on the other hand Bill was deliberately showering as little as he thought he could get away with and making up the difference in the downstairs half bath sink, so he didn't think smugly flaunting that he technically knew more about minimum human hygiene requirements than she did would make him look as cool and knowledgable as he wanted it to. "Don't worry about it!"

Bill cast one last longing look toward his true face; and then he followed the humans into the restroom to let them reorganize his stupid human hair.

####

"This is just a temporary measure," Pacifica warned as she dunked a few more of Goldie's curls in the sink. "You have got to take a real shower before your date. You literally smell like fish."

"What kind of fish?" Goldie immediately asked. "Is it salmon? If it's salmon I can work with that."

Sitting on the closed toilet lid, Mabel let out a long-suffering sigh; and Pacifica got the horrifying impression that this was an ongoing conversation.

"It... I don't... know what kind of fish."

Mabel said, "It's probably just the trout guts from yesterday." What the heck was life like in poor people's homes?

In Pacifica's opinion, Goldie's hair was both his biggest asset and his worst disaster area. It was that beautiful, natural, curly gold, like something out of a fairy tale; but it was nightmarishly tangled and there was literal sand in it, and he'd clearly used conditioner at some point in the last few days but he hadn't fully washed it out and it just made more sand stick.

Goldie was sitting in the folding chair with one arm rested on the lip of the sink and his cheek resting on his arm. Pacifica had to alternate between soaking his hair under the faucet and trying to gently untangle it, inch by inch, with a comb. To his credit, he patiently endured it without making a word of complaint, even though both the positioning and the manhandling had to be uncomfortable. 

But he'd turned his face away from Pacifica and Mabel as much as he could from his awkward position; and whenever Pacifica moved to an angle that let her glimpse a bit of his face, his eyes were squeezed shut and his mouth was pressed thin in a grimace. The hand resting on the sink's lip had clenched into a fist, and his other hand was digging its (badly painted) fingernails into his thigh through his bedsheet skirt.

Hesitantly, she asked, "Are you comfortable?"

"I'll give it three out of five stars," Goldie said, "but if you want a lower score, I can try to find a worse angle for my neck!" He kept as much tension out of his voice as he could; but now that Pacifica had noticed it, she could tell his voice was a bit flattened.

"Never mind," she said. "No offense, but—when's the last time you combed this?" She'd been saying no offense a lot.

Mabel asked, "Have you done it since I brushed your hair at the sleepover?" He had Mabel doing his hair?

Goldie made a noncommittal noise. "I've washed it since then." 

"That's not the same," Mabel said.

"You've washed it?" Pacifica asked skeptically. "Because you look like you've been sleeping in mud." She'd found a few flecks deep in his thick curls.

"Okay, in my defense," Goldie said, "it was just garden-variety heavy metal-enriched local dirt when I went to sleep. It only turned into mud while I was unconscious."

Pacifica stopped combing and leaned over to stare at Goldie, speechless.

With an air of affronted dignity, he said, "It wasn't my idea. I wanted to be indoors."

"Goldie's been having a really bad week," Mabel said.

"I've been having a really bad month," Goldie said.

Mabel asked, "Haven't you had a shower since you got home, though?"

There was a pause. Goldie muttered, "Yeah, but—it's hard to get through all that hair." (The worst part was, Pacifica thought he was telling the truth. The fact that she'd found mud so deep meant he must have washed the majority off the outer layers of his hair.) "I—I've been—tired, okay?"

He had that air of impatient irritation that suggested he was embarrassed, but trying to hide it because he was embarrassed of being embarrassed. Strange from Mr. Apathetic About His Body to be self-conscious. Why? Did he not know how to take care of his hair? (Maybe if he'd properly used the samples she'd sent him...)

But Pacifica thought back to Mabel showing her a lock of his hair at the beginning of summer—and the liquified roots, melted off. That wasn't an accident. Whatever depilatory cream he'd used had to sit there on the roots, it wasn't like he'd just grabbed the wrong product by accident. There was something more than ignorance going on here. Self-sabotage? But if it was intentional, why would he be embarrassed?

She could call him out, interrogate him for it—hey, she was supposed to be his style consultant, she needed to know what was going on—but if he was already getting defensive, he'd just clam up if he thought he was really under attack. Her mom got the same way when she was getting cagey about something and Pacifica was trying to figure out why. So she switched her focus. "Mabel—did you say you brushed his hair?"

"Yeah?"

"You meant 'combed his hair,' right?"

"No, I brushed it," Mabel said.

Pacifica stared at her. "Why."

Mabel stared back. "Because... combs are for short guy hair and for parting your hair? And Goldie doesn't have a part?"

Pacifica looked down at the big ball of frizzy curls that made up the bottom half of Mabel's hair and suddenly understood so much. "Oh, hon." What were her parents like. What did their hair look like. "You're supposed to comb natural curls. And only when they're wet, if you can help it."

"What. Why."

"It keeps the curls together," Goldie said, "instead of separating them all into separate strands."

Mabel's eyes widened. "Wait, that's the secret?! I thought that's what expensive shampoos are for!"

"The expensive shampoos make it worse," he cheerfully informed her. He'd brushed Pacifica off and sat up, chin in hand and hair dripping over his shoulders, so he could talk to Mabel. "It strips off the grease your pores naturally excrete to lube up your hair and replaces it with manmade grease! Which is why your hair dries out when you stop using the fancy shampoo. It's a big scam!"

Mabel stared at him in shock; then asked, hesitantly, "My strawberry shampoo?"

"A dirty traitor," Goldie said. "It's one of those toxic friends that manipulates you into depending on them and then tells you you're nothing without their help! There's half a dozen chemicals you wanna avoid in shampoo—I don't remember all their names but I can draw their chemical structures, Sixer can translate 'em into English for you."

"What else am I doing wrong?"

"You shampoo your hair too often," Goldie said. "And blow dry it. Which is fine if you want to keep that dry frizz! But somehow I don't think you do!"

Okay—so he clearly did understand curly hair care. (Or at least, he understood it as much as Pacifica, whose knowledge came entirely from reading magazine articles that technically weren't aimed at her.) Then why didn't he do it?

Mabel dragged her hands down her face. "So all this time, I've been messing up your hair too? Goldiiie, why didn't you say anything!"

"I didn't really care!"

Pacifica said, "Okay no, I am not standing for this. Goldie, out. Mabel, sink. It's some kind of crime for me to know more about curly hair than you do. I'm showing you how to do this the right way."

Goldie sighed in relief and escaped as Pacifica subjected Mabel's hair to the faucet and comb.

####

(Here's this week's What Was Edited Due To TBOB summary: the pageant scene itself was already planned, but obviously, all the details—it's the day he was born, the mayor's there handing out knives and declaring it a holiday—came from the info we get on Bill's history via TBOB. Finding a way to make the knives make sense was fun. Nothing major in the rest of the chapter was changed.

Hope you enjoyed! Next week is more Pacifica!)

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Little Spoon || Jonathan Crane x Reader Drabble

Inspired by an ask and dedicated to that person Please don't mind any errors, this was quick and unedited. Enjoy <3

---------

It had been a nice night with Jonathan, not only did he cook you his "in"famous fried chicken, but he made mash potatoes from scratch and they were so creamy and buttery!! After dinner the two of you watched a vintage horror flick from his collection. But what happened after, surprised you.

While the movie was great, albeit a bit corny for today's age, You and Jonathan still had a few good chuckles. Now you two had grown tired after a nice "date" at his farm house, and you simply thought he'd escort you home. Instead though, it seemed as if he couldn't let you go. He didn't say it, but you could tell he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.

Jonathan looked at you, and held out his arm as if to usher you into his grasp. But you, well, you had other plans. You two have snuggled before but Jonathan was always the big spoon. Tonight, you wanted to change that.

You smiled coyly, and held out your arm in retaliation. "Why not let me hold you this time?" Jonathan looked at you, blinked slowly like a cat, and kind of turned uneasily in his expression. What you didn't know was that he was apprehensive to be seen as vulnerable or lesser. Jonathan spoke gently and tried to ask you if you could cuddle the same as always, but you weren't having it tonight

"Please, let me hold you. I promise you'll like it. I mean--I do, after all"

He signed at your words, but relented

"Just this once; if I hate it, never again."

But he didn't hate it. He laid into your arms and you rearranged it so he could be held with his legs dangling from the dusty old couch. For a few moments it seemed as though he was anxious, but you have him a comforting tightened hug and as soon as he felt your chin in his brow he seemed to relax. Maybe things would be okay.

And that's how you both ended up falling asleep shortly thereafter. And you didn't wake up til late morning the next day. It was nice, especially for Jonathan. He had never felt the love of another in such a way, so much so that maybe that night, he discovered that he too, is worthy of affection

[dimlylittorch]

18+ drabble MDNI

My Masterlist🌱

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x emotional!chubby!pre-op!transmasc!reader

small synopsis: accidental meeting, hurt/comfort, smut (use of clit, cunt, etc)

Bumping into Ghost randomly on the street, he gets annoyed and glares down at you, you immediately react after having a horrible day by darting into an alleyway with tears in your eyes. He unknowingly just stumbled upon an emotional little bunny with no one to protect him. You who is lonely, touch starved, and cannot handle any rejection or negative feelings coming your way.

As soon as he looked down and saw how tears welled up in your eyes, his gaze softened and followed you as you scurried off into some dark alleyway that probably wasn’t the safest for a little thing like you. He knew he probably looked big and scary and mean, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to follow the sweet little thing whose day he very clearly just ruined.

He finds you in the alleyway with your face in your hands, trying your best to stop your tears. Digging your palms into your eyes, breathing heavily as you try to calm yourself. He watches from a few feet away, his mind riddled with guilt. What kind of asshole makes a little bunny like you cry? He walks over silently, standing right in front of you and waiting for you to say something.

When you see his boots on the ground in front of you, your tears slow slightly, but not enough to gather yourself. “I-I’m sorry” you choke out between sobs. “I didn’t m-mean to.” He sighs when he sees how tears are soaking your shirt slightly, and how you were shaking like a leaf in front of him. He wasn’t good at comforting people- he never had been. But there were a few things he was good at. He knew how to fight, kill, and fuck.

You didn’t know how to react when he gently leaned forward, cupping your chin with his large hand, his thumb stroking over your skin. “Don’t cry” he said quietly in his gravely voice. “I’ll fix it. Jus’.. no more cryin’.” He murmured softly, his hands reaching your torso, gently kneading your soft flesh through your shirt. You tense, a small gasp leaving you at his touch. “little birds cry when they’re wound up too tight” he says softly as he leans to speak against the shell of your ear. “let an old dog help ya’.”

A few moments later he had one arm against the brick wall of the alleyway in front of your face, ensuring you wouldn’t hit the brick while his other hand was down your pants, thick fingers circling your little clit. “such a good boy” he says against the skin of your neck where his face was currently buried. Every touch to your little bud made you arch closer into his chest, heavy breaths leaving the both of you while he occasionally checked to make sure no strangers were getting a free show. Even if they were, he couldn’t blame them. A soft little thing like you being manhandled? It turned him on too.

You can feel his bulge pressing against the curve of your ass, pushing back against it whenever you get the chance. His fingers shift lower, teasing at your tight entrance while he manages to get his mask up slightly, pressing small kisses to your neck. “f-fuck-“ you gasp out, wanting to moan his name but he never even told you. When the tip of his thick finger sinks inside of your boycunt he groans, shifting his thumb to still knead at your puffy clit.

“Yer so warm down ‘ere” he groans against your skin, sniffing in your scent as his face rests against your neck. “fuckin’ hell, yer tight..” he murmurs as he sinks in a second finger. “no wonder yer crying so easy.. hell, i’d cry too if I were this pen’ up.” He mutters against your skin.

You can’t help but choke out weak moans while his fingers explore your cunt, rubbing along every bump and ridge he could find, doing whatever he could to find that perfect little spot that would make you sing. With one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, your other one reaches up to wrap around his thick arm, craving some kind of skin to skin contact. “s-sir-“ you whine weakly when his thumb presses hard against your clit.

He groans loudly when you call him that, picking up the pace as his erection grinds up against your ass. “christ, yer a good boy.. lettin’ me take care of ya’.” He mutters when suddenly, you cry out against your hand, eyes tightening shut with embarrassment. He immediately smirks, rubbing the pads of his fingers over that little spot he just found. “there he is..” he says proudly as he presses against your g-spot.

Within no time you’re completely soaking his hand, clear fluids dripping down his fingers and coating his hand. He groans when he feels how tightly you were clenching around his fingers, but he can’t stop himself from rubbing even quicker over that soft little spot inside of you, all the while his thumb teases your clit. “shit- oh shit” you whine, the sound barely muffled by your hand.

Simon quickly looks to see if anyone is around, and when he knows the coast is clear he starts to hump against your ass while his fingers move quicker. “Come on- fuck yeah” he huffs when he feels a rush of slick spill onto his hand, and he hears a sharp cry from you. While he carries out your high he moans weakly against your ear as his hips start to stutter against your ass. After a few moments he groans against your ear, letting his head collapse onto your shoulder.

As he lets himself fall against the brick wall, he shifts one hand to wrap around your waist, keeping you from escaping his grasp. The other slowly slips out of your wet pussy, moving up to his lips and pressing inside as he groans from the taste. Your cheeks heat up from embarrassment, keeping your head downcast. “Ya taste like a dream” he mutters as he looks down at you. “Feel better?”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding slightly. You really did feel better. “..thank you.” You whisper shyly, making him chuckle.

Wiping his hand off on his jeans, he spins you around so your back is to the wall. He can’t help but lean down and press a gentle kiss to your lips, stealing away any breath you had. When he pulls away, he looks over your body. “Yer probably all sticky now, eh?” He grumbles. When you nod shyly, he places a small kiss to your cheek before sinking down onto his knees, pulling your pants down your thighs. “Don’ worry. Big boys know how ta’ clean up their messes.”

hey guys !! Sorry I haven’t been super active lately. I started school last week so I’m more busy than usual. hopefully I’ll have a longer fic out for you guys soon ! :D

[minijenn]

That feel when you spend the past several days drawing for a forgotten niche AU you created years ago that you've just been having severe brainrot for lately and you have to get it out of your system somehow so you just... draw.

Anyway, Thorn in the Gut AU! Perhaps the most angsty little AU my brain ever did create back in the old UF days, I'm still quite fond of it. Its just chock full of drama, conflict, existential crisises, all that good stuff! And so, for those of you not in the know, here's a whole dump of info about it to go along with the art! (copied most of this from Discord so excuse any wierd formatting)

The basic gist of Thorn in the Gut spawns out of RMD (Rifts/Memories/Dimensions) and basically starts when Bill lands a practically fatal blow on Stepper (instead of cracking his Gem) and Steven, realizing both he and Dipper won't survive this, essentially "poofs" (lets his physical body disappear) and sacrifices his gem over to Dipper to keep him alive. Anyway, Dipper winds up back in Gravity Falls alone, much to the alarm and anger of the Crystal Gems especially when they realize Steven is basically dead (not them blaming a literal child who had no say in any of this). From there, the following ensues:

The Gems are A Wreck but they are still deeply attached to that gemstone (because of Steven and because of Rose) and they really don't know how to interact with Dipper now as a result; eventually, they force him to move up to the temple because he very quickly starts showing he has Steven's powers now but he can't control them because he is also A Wreck with survivor's guilt and grief over losing his boyfriend (did I mention this AU is Stedip? Well its Stedip) and his heavy emotions are making them wonky

They also watch him like a hawk because they think Steven could somehow return at any moment; they're also just like, hella impersonal with him; basically any sort of warmth or goodwill they had toward him has completely evaporated and they just view him as "the reason why steven is gone"

Garnet probably just... never talks to him like ever. Pearl is a sobbing wreck but is also surprisingly the most sympathetic towards Dipper out of the Gems (bc she knows about Rose and Bill's history to a certain extent and also knows thats at least in part why Bill attacked Stepper so viciously and why all this happened in the first place). Amethyst is just mad and probably prone to verbally lashing out at Dipper in frustration the most.

Stan and Ford are Fighting obvs bc Ford thinks Dipper staying with the Gems is for the best (also not Ford also kind of lowkey starting to negate his own nephew as a "fascinating breakthrough discovery" because of how scientifically impossible what's happened to him should be; Stan, meanwhile, is furious at how both Ford and the gems are acting, he's one of the few people still entirely in Dipper's coner, along with...

Mabel, who while mourning Steven herself wants to be there for her brother so badly but can't be because the Gems and Ford won't let her be, claiming that its for her own safety when really its just to keep her out of the way of a very delicate situation; even so, the twins still try to see each other as much as they can and comfort each other however possible (potential eventual fusion between the two?? maybe)

Connie is fucking mad, mad that Steven would sacrifice himself like this, mad that he'd sacrifice himself for Dipper, mad that Steven is gone and she can't do a damn thing about it. As a result, she distances herself from both the Pines and the Gems for a good long time to grieve on her own (but even after she comes back around, things remain hella tense between her and Dipper)

Other characters: Lapis is fuckin squicked the fuck out by what's happened here, because something something its comparable to permenant fusion, but even so she tries her best to support Dipper even though its difficult for her; Peridot is kind of lost in the shuffle of all this, like Mabel, so I feel like that's where she's lending most of her support; Pacifica? ehhh I mean this AU works under the assumption that Stedip is kind of the only currently canon MK ship so she probs wouldn't have much to do here 😛

Fucking forgot to talk about Dipper himself you know like he aint the damn focus character; so he's in Shambles, emotionally distraught for a number of reasons; his boyfriend is gone and he can only speak to him in his dreams (and those dreams are usually sweet… until one certain triangle starts showing up in them); amidst still reeling from losing Steven, the way the others are all treating him leads him into an existential crisis, because to the Gems, he's Steven, he's Rose, to Ford, he's an experiment, to Bill, he's an obstacle in the way of a prize, to the diamonds (if this continued on into UF2 which it could), he's Pink, and with all that in mind he truly starts to wonder if there's anything really left of Dipper at all

And the bad guys; Bill is furious, obvs. it doesn't take him long to start showing up during Steven and Dipper's little dream chats, causing all sorts of chaos and being just a general bastard all around; but he wants that gem, he has a deal with White to make good on after all, and he's determined to do whatever it takes to get it, even if he has to guilt trip Dipper into ripping it out of his stomach himself (which may or may not happen); as for the Diamonds I mean they'd probably just think this is "Pink" playing another one of their silly games, like they think about Steven so not a ton changes on that front? (even still, I summed up that this boy is in Danger in the span of time that would be UF2 in that one art)

Oh and of course, Steven's status. He is… aliveish? Of course, he doesn't have a physical body anymore, kind of gave that up entirely when he "poofed" bc he's half human. At first he's only able to communicate solely to Dipper through his dreams (and like Stan and Mabel, Steven is completely in Dipper's corner and is fucking mad as hell about how the Gems are acting towards him). And eventually, he makes that frustration known by using his possion powers to take control of Dipper (which Dipper allows, god who cares about past trauma, anything to make the Gems see reason) to tell the Gems off, but he isn't able to do that for very long or very frequently. I'd like to think Dipper can also sometimes "hear" Steven speaking to him through his thoughts when he's awake too. Basically, Steven is always with him ^_^

After getting steven's gem, Dipper maintains Stepper's hair color and skin hue :3 and he also starts wearing Steven's shirts bc fuckin gay grief compells him to wear his BF's clothes and then the Gems, fucking freaks that they are are like "nah you should keep wearing them" even when he doesn't want to anymore. Oh! and another thing, Dipper doesn't see himself when he sees his reflection in the mirror, he sees Stepper (represented in the art).

Since Dipper has to stay in Gravity Falls (because how the hell is he able to leave with all of these newfound manifesting magical powers), Mabel ends up going back home alone with a spare memory gun Ford gives her in tow. She remorsefully uses it to erase Aaron and Allison's memories of Dipper so they won't ask questions she isn't able to give answers to :3 Also, Dipper is unaware that this happens until some point in UF2 when Mabel breaks down and tells him. Suffice to say it basically ruins whatever is left of his relationship with Ford (not that it was good at that point anyway because well, Ford is basically using him as a lab rat)

Basically, without Steven around, most of the cast is just... fucking not acting right bc steven was basically their moral compass so they figure why even try anymore without him around (the gems and hell even dipper included, he makes some pretty questionable decisions in this AU himself)

Just, its all about identity, really, about how the way others around you treat you can impact how you view yourself for better or worse (in this case, worse); it's about loss of agency and how grief can drive people to act in some... pretty terrible ways.

Anyway yeah that's a Lot but its my current obsession in the In Between time of S1 and S2 and I figured I need to chase my bliss (bc how else will I cope with The Horrors if I don't put my favorite blorbos through Horrors of their own. Expect something to be written from this AU... eventually idk man probs not anytime in the immediate future tho lol it's just a silly fun little side thing. Anyway enjoy the Pain! ^_^

[moonshinesonic-moonstarslight]

More Little Villains!

MQF: So Shen-shixiong and Shang-shixiong ran into a pile of plants. Two of which you have identified as Parents Longing Blossom and Baren Soul Lotus, correct?

SQQ agrees while SQH is staring up at the ceiling dead eyed, two slumbering children tucked against him. (The trip back to the sect was... A thing SQH doesn't want to recall right now. The kids are definitely some versions of the ogs, though. Of that he's sure on now.)

MQF: *hums before directing SQQ over to be examined first, fully aware that getting the other three will take some time so first handle the one not buried* Did either of you recall any reactions or symptoms of any sort?

SQQ: *remembers falling onto SQH and feeling something in his gut at the fact his friend was under him groaning and whining softly, then the tingly feeling going down his neck and through his spine and arms, before seeing the growing red and black marks appearing on Airplane's neck and pulling the man out of the plants only to notice that he had the same marks on his arms* /gives description of events while not admitting to having a similar feeling in his gut only days ago when he ended up falling on top of SQH while they were goofing around/

MQF: I see. And were there any further reactions after you both got out? *Checks arms and gently prods spirit veins to check on the WOC)

SQQ: *winces at the memory of SQH coughing up green and blue goop, leaking black from his eyes, and the screams of pain and terror as the man clawed at his neck, arms, and his thighs. And the agony of white and green goo coming out of his own arms* Yes ../goes into extreme detail because he knows Airplane won't and he is rightfully worried about his friend/

Shen Jiu: *just woke up and is listening, bleary-eyed and tired he pokes Shang Si awake (SQH fell into a doze, he's so tired) and gets him to listen in as well*

Shang Si: *grumpy at being woken up, listens to SQQ describing the what is basically their rebirth into this world, rolls his eyes and curls back onto Mama's chest*

Shen Jiu: *scowls, turns his attention to Mu-shidi talking with the strange entity in his old body, is not happy with this but Shang-shidi has a plan, now if only the brat was awake to help him put it into action*

SQH: *unconsciously pulls children closer*

Shen Jiu: *still in the body of a 13month old, is starting to feel hungry, has been harassing Shang-shidi's cosmic entity the whole time back to the sect and isn't going to stop now, especially when the reactions are well worth the humiliation he suffers* Mama. *Pulls at robes* Mama, milk.

SQH: *dragged from his doze, and is so very tired of this insistence for milk he doesn't have* A-Jiu.. Mama doesn't have milk. Shidi could you please send a disciple for some? I fear of being assaulted and sucked on for non-existent milk here.

SQQ: *quietly* They have tried already at least once per child. Thankfully they are old enough for soft food so we had fed them, even though they were insistent on trying to breastfeed.

MQF: *wants to laugh, very much not laughing because he's a professional and Shang-shixiong's scary when tired and just done with the world* Of course. Shang-shixiong, do you have a wrist I can see?

SQH: *shuffling kids, tries to hand one over to SQQ* Bro. Shixiong. Tears or no tears, please.

SQQ: *takes Shen Jiu, because while he is willing to help he is not dealing with a screaming Shang Si, who'll not be happy with waking up away from Mama, if he can help it* A-Jiu, you'll be good and let Mu-shidi look over Mama without a fuss, right?

Shen Jiu: *hungry, not pleased with being in the arms of a man even if it's his old body, knows Mu-shidi has dealt with worse than screaming children, promptly starts grumbling and fussing*

SQQ: *knowing where this is going and one crying kid is better than both so he's making his way to the door* We're going to be just outside if you need us shidi.

MQF: *back from sending a disciple for milk and a few other things* Certainly, shixiong.

SQH: *exhausted and wants this over with* Not moving Xiao Si unless you want a second screaming child.

MQF: That's fine Shixiong. *Pokes and prods around sleeping baby* So, A-Jiu and Xiao Si?

SQH: *fully aware of the layers to that question* They respond to our given names and nothing else really. But calling someone Xiao Jiu feels weird when "Xiao Jiu" is standing next to me. And I don't know how to feel about someone calling a child who looks like but isn't me "A-Si".

MQF: Understandable. Now, tell me what happened. *Fully aware of he going to have to pull answers out, given that the man is exhausted and an exhausted SQH is a petty petty man*

SQH: *grumbles but starts talking*

{To be continued ~(^-^)~}

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Thinking about: Nursery school teacher L.JH

💭Who: Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x female reader 💭What: Humour. Fluff. Suggestive(18+). Established relationship. Nursery school teacher Jihoon. Single parent reader. 💭Word count: 1.9k 💭Warnings: Reader has a 5-year-old daughter. Wen Junhui is reader’s best friend and a menace. Yes, I want to point that out ahead of time. Reader is thirsty for her boyfriend and it’s very mutual. Some heavy kissing. Jihoon’s strength is mentioned as a point of interest for reader, and I just want to point that out because I think buffhoon needs a warning, okay. 💭Summary: “After almost five months, it’s time to tell your daughter that you’re in a relationship with her favourite teacher. You just hope it goes well.”

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist - Read the prequel “Precious” here (coming soon)

A/N - this was originally supposed to be very different, but when I tried to write that I got carried away and it came out at almost 12k, so that will be out at some point in February, and it shows how reader and Jihoon get together! It’s both angsty and fluffy and I really hope you’ll look forward to that! I’ll add the link above when it’s released.

It feels like it’s taken both forever and no time at all for this day to come. Even though you and Jihoon have talked about it at every chance over the past few weeks, you don’t feel at all prepared.

“You’ve got this,” Junhui encourages as he too harshly massages your shoulders once he stands behind you, just to be annoying. You yelp and jerk out of his reach to turn and slap his arm while he snickers and lets you, knowing you’ll never truly hurt him, just like he won’t you, bony thumbs in your shoulders aside.

“Why are you even still here?” You ask, trying to nudge him out of the kitchen.

“Moral support.”

“Bullshit, you just want to eat my food.”

“It’s a symbiotic relationship; I bless you with my presence and you feed me your mediocre cooking.” He cracks up cackling as you return to slapping him and even kick his thigh for good measure. “I’m kidding! I’m kidding! I taught you well!”

“Fuck off already,” you grumble and shove him away so that you can turn back to the pan and check on the progress of the contents.

“Fine, I can see when I’m not wanted,” your best friend retorts dramatically as he slinks out of the kitchen.

“Two decades too late!” Without even looking up, you just know that the man has backtracked to look at you from the doorway.

You’re proven right when you look up to see him peering at you from around the doorframe with dramatic puppy dog eyes and an exaggerated pout. “Don’t you wuv me?” He asks in an overly cutesy tone, making you fake a gag. He laughs and straightens up. “Later, loser.”

“Yeah, yeah, text me when you’re home.”

“You’re not, my mama!” He yells back, voice further away signalling he’s in the living room, which is confirmed when you hear him saying goodbye to your daughter with their usual prolonged farewell, including exchanging “I love you”sin multiple languages. Junhui doesn’t even know most of the languages, he just learned the phrases purely to tell your daughter he loves her in every way he can.

Your best friend is a strange, pain in your ass at the best of times, but you adore the everloving shit out of him, which only grew when your daughter came along, and he devoted himself to be the best uncle a little girl could ever want. Even though sometimes you say you wish he hadn’t taught her so many of his weird quirks and habits, you’re always genuinely so pleased to see your best friend in your daughter, and you hope their soul-deep bond never wavers.

When you hear the front door open minutes later, signalling that Junhui is leaving your apartment a whole half an hour later than he said he’d stay for, you hear him loudly and dramatically greeting your boyfriend.

“Juni! Guess who’s here!” Junhui sing-songs, followed by the patter of little feet before your daughter shrieks excitedly.

“Mr Lee!” She yells, and seconds later the door closes, though you hear Jihoon happily talking with Juni and a distinct lack of Junhui, proving that he’s finally gone and left you to handle this important dinner without him looming over your shoulder with a dumbass grin like a lanky, less stable Cheshire Cat.

“Smells good,” Jihoon comments as he enters the kitchen with Juni now somehow clinging to his back. You look over and smile at him in appreciation and greeting before focusing back on cooking, even if you want nothing more than to walk over and grab his precious face to plant the kiss on his lips that you’ve wanted to do since seeing him this morning at the drop off for Juni’s last day in his class.

“Mama maked your favourite!” Juni informs.

“Made,” Jihoon corrects gently and Juni hums and nods. “That’s very kind of her.”

“Yes,” Juni agrees. “You need to say thank you.”

“Ah, you’re right, I do,” Jihoon replies, amusement lacing his tone as he moves closer while effortlessly holding Juni up with only one hand under her backside.

You eye his arm with a squint, half sulking that he can so easily carry your daughter when it takes you both arms to achieve now that she’s getting bigger, but the other half of you is sulking because his usual work attire of casual yet smart, long-sleeved, button-up shirts hides his strong muscles from your gaze.

Jihoon says your name amusedly, making you look up at him instead of practically glaring at his sadly hidden, bulging bicep and find him smirking at you, well aware that you’re trying to burn away his shirt with your intense stare to get a look at your boyfriend’s strong arms.

Of course, he can’t say anything about it with your daughter literally attached to him and observing the pair of you in wait for Jihoon to show his appreciation for your thoughtfulness, so he just smirks around his words. “Thank you for making my favourite for dinner tonight, I appreciate the time and effort it takes to make, and I’ll eat it well.”

“You’re welcome, Jihoon,” you reply, purposely using his first name even though you usually call him Mr Lee in front of Juni so that she doesn’t gain the habit of calling him improperly at school.

As expected, it makes her perk up with a gasp. “Is that your real name, Mr Lee?!”

“Yeah, Nini, my name’s Jihoon, and now that I’m no longer your teacher, you can call me Jihoon when we’re not at school,” he answers and carefully swings her around from his back, with an unfair amount of ease, so that he can plop her backside on the counter in front of him.

“I have to say Mr Lee at school?”

“Yeah, even though Mr Kwon will be your teacher next year, I’m still a staff member and you have to call all staff by our surnames, don’t you.”

“Why?”

“It’s respect. We’re older and in charge of teaching and looking after you, so you should show your teachers and support staff respect.”

“Oh, otay,” she agrees simply and swings her legs a little as she looks over to watch what you’re doing. “When dinner ready, mama? I’m hungry.”

“Not long now, baby,” you promise. “You probably have time for another episode.”

“Yay!” Juni cheers and lifts her arms towards Jihoon, so he picks her up to place on her feet on the tiled flooring and lets her run off to the living room to watch another ten-minute episode of her current favourite show, even if you’re certain she’s already seen each one multiple times at this point.

Jihoon stands at the kitchen doorway to peer through to the living room and wait for Juni to be settled on the couch with her duck plushie, Bubba, in her arms and attention glued to the TV, before he stalks over to you and grabs your face to kiss you passionately.

You can’t help but whimper at the intensity of the kiss while eagerly going along with it, wrapping your arms around his neck as he backs you against the fridge with a firm grip on your hips.

It’s not a long kiss at all, yet you’re both panting when you pull apart and he knocks his forehead lightly against yours before settling there to catch his breath.

“Wanted to do that all fucking day,” he admits in a low murmur.

“I think you would’ve been fired if you kissed me like that on the playground,” you muse, earning a soft chuckle.

Jihoon presses a disarmingly sweet and short kiss to your tingling lips before letting go and backing up, making you pout disapprovingly. Of course, he notices and smirks at you teasingly. “What’s the matter, baby?”

“Get your ass back here, Lee Jihoon,” you demand, pointing to the spot right in front of you.

“But dinner,” he gasps theatrically, and you think he’s been spending too much time with Junhui and Soonyoung aka Mr Kwon.

Who, apparently, Junhui once knew from his teen dance group and the pair have decided to rekindle their friendship full of dance and theatrics, which they use to tease yourself and Jihoon whenever the four of you get together while Juni is with her sweet as sugar best friend, Danil.

“It’s fine, come here,” you whine, trying to grab his shirt but he remains just out of arms reach and you don’t move your back away from the fridge.

Another dramatic gasp accompanies his next jibe, “But Juni is-” he cuts off with a yelp when you suddenly lean forward enough to grab a fistful of his shirt over his chest and yank him in. He stumbles into place in front of you and catches himself with his forearms on the fridge either side of your head.

“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”

“So demanding,” he murmurs and slides one hand down the metal surface until he can fit his palm against your jaw before tilting his head forward to slot your lips together.

You keep one hand against his chest, feeling his contently thudding heart against your palm, as your other holds onto his waist and encourages him closer when his tongue swipes teasingly against your lips.

Of course, you don’t hesitate to return the gesture and let your tongues find each other to slide together and make him moan softly in approval and pleasure, causing the warmth beginning to fizzle under your skin to burn brighter.

Maybe Jihoon had been right, even if he had just been trying to wind you up and tease, as a sudden, loud gasp from the doorway sounds and alerts you to the fact that your daughter is suddenly present.

In an instant, the two of you pull apart and try to look like you weren’t just tongue deep in each other’s mouths as you face Juni.

You open your mouth to try to explain and tell her the news you were really hoping to be a post-dinner conversation, yet Juni beats you to the punch.

“Are you boyfriend-girlfriend?!” She shrieks.

“Uhm,” you respond eloquently, then look at Jihoon, who is already turning to look at you. You share a look with your boyfriend, silently deciding that you might as well just get it over with before you look at Juni and nod slightly. “Yeah.”

Juni stares at you with wide eyes for a moment before she excitedly yells then runs over to attach herself to you both at once while blabbering about being happy that you are finally boyfriend-girlfriend. You decide to tell her at a later point that you’ve actually been “boyfriend-girlfriend” with her previous teacher for four months already and dating for a few weeks before that.

You and Jihoon exchange a surprised yet pleased look at how easy this was and how enthusiastic your daughter is about your relationship, though silently just decide to accept this blessing for what it is and simply get to work setting up the table for dinner.

When everything is in place, you both sit down with Juni at the head of the table between you like always, while remaining wordlessly relieved that you don’t have to awkwardly explain exactly what you and Jihoon kissing means.

Before you can help Juni when she struggles to reach her cup, Jihoon silently reaches out to move it within her reach so that she can pick it up with both hands carefully.

“Thank you, daddy,” Juni says innocently, just as Jihoon takes some of his own drink into his mouth, making him promptly choke and spray the liquid over his plate in shock.

Okay, maybe you do need to explain it a bit, after all.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[andre-and-cal]

Some sociopathic traits Cal Gabriel has,,

I don’t believe he was a sociopath. But I do believe he exhibited some shared tendencies to them.

When Cal was younger, he didn’t enjoy people very much.

The previously chubby-cheeked, little white blond boy began to display this distant look in his eyes as he slowly aged, which had started to show when he was around 2 to 3-years-old.

His reserved behavior was more prevalent when he was a kid. His parents remained unquestioning, though. Treating their son like any other normal boy. But could you really blame them?

Because not even Cal’s family members could read what was going on in his mind.

Birthday parties weren’t very fun either. Calvin felt overwhelmed by everyone standing around him, trying to get him to smile while singing him happy birthday, shoving presents toward his sour face. Fuck, the people his parents invited and who attended were so insufferable and nauseatingly energetic. He didn’t even want to do anything for his 18th birthday a few months before Zero Day. He just wanted to spend time with Andre— the bastard who mostly sees him for who he is. Around his teenage years, that was when the lingering anger began to sprout deep within him. And when he and Andre met, they clicked partially for this reason.

Calvin does get crushed by the invisible weight of his depression and experiences negative and positive feelings as well, though they’re less prominent and not necessarily how most people would typically assume. He experiences these feelings toward himself and toward Andre and his friends. And most of the time he doesn’t feel much toward other classmates— not unless it relates to his burrowed sadism, aggravation, disinterest, and contempt.

He likes Rachel, even though he grows defensive when she tries to nudge her nose into him and Andre’s business. Cal always plays it off as a joke, but there’s a subtle sense of sobriety in his eyes… especially when he essentially told her to “leave town”.

He isn’t friends with very many people except for a few— those few including Andre. He’s known for being in the school band, and from being Rachel’s friend, but that’s really it.

With Andre, he does feel a sense of fondness and longing when he’s out of his grasp. He treats the brunet teenager unlike how most people would treat their companion. He sees him as this figure he needs to latch onto, who latches onto Cal in contrasting yet related ways— Calvin feels alive when he’s around him, less like a walking zombie. Calvin gets restless and the closest thing to sad when he’s not around. Lonely, even. He needs his attention. They share a bond that nobody should be able to have but them… the Army of Two.

Cal expresses this amorous sentiment toward his comrade in relatively traditional manners, having learned from seeing other couples at school… mainly with physical touch. He really isn’t opposed to physical touch when with Andre at all. Though, Cal’s indifference when he and Andre argue is as apparent as finding a glowing scarecrow in a corn field. And while he does react in blatantly flippant manners toward the various serious problems Andre has with him in that moment, he doesn’t truly want Andre to stay angry at him. So he tries to deescalate the situation without outwardly confronting the problem. Think of the scene where Andre got angry at Cal over the poem he read aloud, and how Cal made him smile a minute later.

In addition, Cal is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The sheep wool sitting over his head like some veil of purity is the awkward, yet casual facade he wears to get people to think differently of him. To think he’s nice, to think he isn’t capable of committing such a horrific thing such as Zero Day. Even now, even before Zero Day; he’s still got his parents and peers fooled— excluding Andre.

That wolf is what Andre sees when Cal’s pissed off and bothered, and what everyone saw on Zero Day, during Cal and Andre’s final moments after they murdered a dozen students. Cal realized how he was destined to fade out with the boy who understood him; the boy he made an effort to understand, too.

[callmelyrus]

Thanks, @future-ghoost and @eldritchelfwriter for the taggingtons. I will be cheeky and piggy back tag @strugglingcomet2, @cylinderarts, @fogno, and @shadowfalllen 😂 Here are some excerpts from my WIPs:

Where There Is No Darkness

”Shadowheart, I know you know who I am, and I would really want to talk to you,” Mavis says. Her brow, previously furrowed in anger, softens slightly, her expression filling with an unidentifiable anxiety.

Shadowheart cannot stand to look at Mavis anymore. Her entire being is filled by what she has spent her entire life denying. The closeness of Mavis, the reality of her there, in front of Shadowheart, wishing to speak to her… It all feels like too much, like she might combust, implode, or simply cease to exist from the sheer volume of everything at once. Her very fabric of being sings, yearns to wrap her arms around this woman, just like the old days. To greet her after years of no her.

But this would be a folly. Shadowheart turns back to her books again. ”What do you want to talk about, Mavis?” she asks. Mavis’ name falls off her tongue with difficulty. It is as if her muscles have forgotten how to form the word in her mouth. Years of not uttering it have made it almost foreign.

”Well, I’d like to know how you are for starters,” says Mavis, a hint of sarcasm colouring her tone.

Shadowheart puts a pile of books on a shelf, carefully ensuring the correct alphabetical order. ”I’m fine,” she huffs. ”Although, I’d be even better if left alone.”

Mavis is silent for a moment. Shadowheart can feel her hesitation, the tension between them. The urge to reach towards her and remind her fingers of the feeling of Mavis’ skin. No.

”You really don’t want to talk?” Mavis’ voice is small, hurt radiating off each word like the cool, clear light of the moon. But Shadowheart must not succumb to the ache Mavis’ pain evokes in her heart.

”Trust me,” she mutters. ”There’s nothing neither you nor I could say that would change anything.”

There is another pause. Finally, Mavis says: ”Fine. As you wish.” Shadowheart hears Mavis’ footsteps retreat, then stop a few feet away. ”You know,” Mavis remarks. ”I will still be here. I must. I hope you aren’t bothered by that.” More footsteps follow, taking Mavis away. Shadowheart finishes reshelving the books and takes her trolley into the back room. There, in the privacy of the four walls filled with freshly returned books, she lets a single tear roll down her cheek.

Cool Me Down, Grease Me Up

”Having trouble?” Wyll asks. Tav nods sheepishly. ”Yeah… I had some trouble starting it up when I left to come here, but now it just won’t start at all, it seems,” she groans.

”You’ll need a mechanic to look into that,” Wyll remarks. Tav’s heart flutters in her chest. It has been too long since her last visit to Last Break Light. Today, she would get to see Shadowheart again.

”There’s a really good one living just around the corner from here,” Wyll says.

”No, it’s okay,” Tav says almost too quickly. She doesn’t want to go to any old neighbourhood car guy. It’s Last Break Light or no dice.

”Please, I insist,” Wyll says, ignoring Tav’s objections. He is already on the phone.

”Hey, it’s Wyll here. How are you?” Wyll pauses to listen to the response from the other end.

”Here, someone’s car’s broken down in my driveway. Any chance you could take a look?” He listens again. He then grins at Tav, giving her a thumbs-up.

”Excellent! See you in a minute!” he says and ends the call. ”Help is on the way,” he smiles.

Not five minutes go by and a black pickup truck appears around the corner. With tinted windows and larger than average tires, the car looks impressive, almost intimidating.

”Ah, the cavalry has arrived,” Wyll smiles.

The truck reverses so its rear is aligned with Tav’s car. Tav gets out of her car in preparation to greet this neighbourhood mechanic. The truck door opens and the first thing Tav sees is a black Chuck Taylor. As her gaze moves up, she sees a slender, yet muscular leg. The driver’s door shuts, revealing the rest of the mechanic.

”Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Unnamed fic where corporate queen bee Tav from our world gets transported to Faerûn by accident (the WIPpiest WIP that ever WIPped)

“She was… interesting,” Tav says after a moment of uncomfortable silence.

“Interesting is an understatement,” Lae’zel snorts. “That woman is the dagger you’ll find buried in your back if you aren’t vigilant enough.”

“I sense a story here,” Tav presses, for some reason feeling eager to learn more about this Shadowheart and her dark mysteries.

“She’s the Mother Superior of a cloister full of Shar’s acolytes,” Karlach explains. The explanation only invites a load of questions.

“Karlach, slow down. You’re speaking in riddles again. So, she’s in some kind of a church?” Tav asks, trying her hardest to understand.

Karlach nods. “She’s the leader of a group of Shar worshippers in Baldur’s Gate,” she says.

“And Shar is…?” Tav asks sheepishly. There is so much in this world she has yet to learn. Knowledge, as they say, is power.

“Shar is the goddess of darkness. Her and her followers are committed to shrouding the world in the night,” Wyll explains. “The Nightsinger, they call her.”

“The Nightsinger… Right. So why don’t we like Shadowheart?” Tav asks after some thought.

Lae’zel rolls her eyes impatiently. “Chk! Did you not hear what Wyll just said? She and her goddess are working to bring about an eternal darkness,” she spits.

“So she’s working for an evil goddess,” Tav says. “Gotcha. Why are you friends with her, then?”

“She was also tadpoled, just like the rest of us,” Karlach says. “She was there when we fought the Absolute. I suppose you can’t go through some things without becoming friends.”

“I guess it makes sense…” Tav trails off, turning her head to look at Shadowheart, who is sitting by the long table, slowly twirling a goblet of wine in her hand.

“She has done some awful things, Tav,” Karlach says. “There isn’t much else to say about her, really.”

Hurt people hurt people. Her father’s words swim into Tav’s mind as she keeps watching Shadowheart sip at her wine. Shadowheart suddenly turns her head and catches Tav’s stare. She smiles, raising her goblet. As if guided by an outside force, Tav takes a few steps towards her.

WIP Workday

Thanks so much for the tags @thedissonantverses and @hyperions-light! 😁 I’m tagging anyone who wants to do this, but I’ll shout out @taashyvashedan, @mageofquandrix, @future-ghoost, @swamp-jello, and @neve-gallus-girl-detective.

I’m still puttering along with…so many things in various stages of editing, and actual drafting is still going on in Tevinter Bathhouses Excursion and Multi-Chapter land. So below the cut is some of the first chapter (currently being edited, hasn’t been beta’d beyond a read for flow and to check my terrible Latin by @mvrcar) of the bathhouse fic.

Grinning in a way that felt almost maniacal, Rook straddled the bench Neve had chosen and leaned back until he was propped up only by his elbows. “Say what you will about the corruption, and the slavery, and the blood mages, and the supremacist cult…Tevinter did get bathhouses right.”

She chuckled. “How far did you have to reach for that bright side?” She asked.

His brow furrowed in thought for a moment, before he shrugged. “Not very. Gotta see the little daily good things, too, not just the bad.”

Neve felt a bead of sweat slip down her neck, and her pulse picked-up as she realized Rook’s eyes were following it. He bit his lower lip gently, and suddenly it felt like the heat of the room was in her veins.

She cleared her throat gently, and he startled guiltily. “Is that so?” Neve asked, redirecting him. Well, both of them.

“Yeah, uh…yeah,” Rook said, shaking his head a little as though coming out of a daze. “I mean, it’s not perfect, right? But if we don’t see the good things, the things we do like about the Imperium, we’ll lose hope, eventually. If there’s nothing of value here, what are we trying to save?”

He wasn’t wrong, really, and there were good things in Tevinter. Good people. Halos, Rana, Tarquin, Lorelei, Claudia from the street earlier. Neve knew that. Still, she didn’t understand how he did it. How he kept that optimism.

She’d have pinned it on to his needing to maintain morale, but they were alone. Just two Tevinters born to non-mage families. People who’d seen the dark underbelly the Magisterium tried to pretend didn’t exist. He wasn’t putting on a show for her; he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t buy it.

This was how he genuinely felt. Neve shook her head a little as fondness for him warmed her chest just as effectively as the room. “You’re just a ray of sunshine, aren’t you?”

He grinned. “I try.”

[shroomerr]

HAPPY NEW YEAR !!! here's some of my fave/most popular art I did in 2024 <3