#and i am unable to do little else in my spare time as i am trapped somewhere halfway between my Ryo perma-shift and fucking Will :]

[ireverie]

see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader

pairing ↠ """nerd!"""jake x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, noncon, dubcon, oral (m receiving), male face sitting, face fucking, unprotected sex, blackmail, choking, hitting, virgin!reader

summary ↠ ever since forever, you have always gotten your way with people by whatever means necessary. a wink and a smile is all it takes to make a boy drop to your feet and worship you. no one told you to think that jake sim would be any different. as it turns out, actions do have consequences.

wc ↠ 14.9k

a/n ↠ jeno version of this fic posted on my nct blog revehae. yea, mine. i am her she is me. THERE WILL BE NO SEQUEL. feedback is appreciated!

don’t like it, don’t read.

▸ short, sweet, sometimes sticky

it was supposed to be like everybody else.

short, sweet, maybe sticky if you considered that one time you’d shaken that sunoo boy’s sweat-coated hands and watched the pale of his face burn the same fierce rose as the lens he saw you through. 

you’d laughed lightheartedly to spare him the embarrassment, telling him that everybody got a little sweaty every now and then, especially you. after all, cheerleading was more than skipping around and twirling. and at those words, you’d watched his eyes haze with the image of you damp with sweat, drenched head to toe.

hook, line, and sinker.

far too easy, exactly how you liked them. smart, easy, and utterly unable to resist you.

no one told you to expect something different from jake sim. and why would you? he knew all the right answers, had some of the best marks, and practically lived in the library. he perfectly fit the bill of your standard victim.

which was why you had no qualms about approaching him in the library while he was typing away at his laptop, occasionally sipping from some kind of coffee.

as if he could sense he was in imminent danger and needed to evacuate immediately, jake turned around before you could even make it completely to the table and saw you advancing on him with a pretty, practiced smile. “hi,” you greeted, waving at him. falling, your hands gripped the rear of the chair beside him. “is someone sitting here?”

jake raised a brow at you, but shook his head. “no, no one’s sitting there.”

“perfect,” you replied, pulling out the chair and taking a seat. you turned so that you were facing him. “jake, right?”

jake nodded slowly, wondering where this was going. he got plenty girls, sure, but none ever approached him in the library. “that’s me,” he said, curious. “do i know you?”

“well, probably not,” you replied, giggling as if something was funny. “but, you know… i’m a cheerleader.”

jake hummed. “are you now?”

you bobbed your head expectantly. “yeah, and i’ve heard about how smart you are. i’m impressed, to be honest. i mean, every time i’m in the library, i see you sitting here. i could never spend so much time here. you must have a lot of resolve to do something like that.”

“you think so?” jake asked, pretending to be flattered just to see where you were leading him. 

“i do. like, really do,” you replied, brushing your fingers against his forearm. “i just have so many other,” better, “things to do, you know. with cheer, i’m either practicing or resting so that i’ll have energy for practice. it’s really hard on me, you know?”

jake stifled a chuckle and glanced back at his laptop screen. “you poor thing.”

your brows stitched. he wasn’t paying nearly enough attention to you. it was almost like he was uninterested. “and that’s why i was wondering if you could help me. i mean, you’re such a genius. you could probably do it in half the time it would take me,” you continued, lowering your hand onto his denim-clad thigh, and becoming surprised by how sturdy it felt.

jake spared a fleeting glance at your hand on his left thigh before his eyes flitted to your face, watching you wink at him and throw him a smile. “let me get this straight,” he started, slowly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb as it sat on his thigh. “you want me to… do your work for you?”

“hey, your hard work wouldn’t go unrewarded,” you insisted, ignoring the unexpected motions of his thumb. “you’d have my attention. i mean, like i said, i don’t have a lot of time to give away. but i’m willing to spend some of it on you.”

jake snickered, unable to help himself anymore. “are you this patronizing to everyone you meet?” he asked.

your eyes flickered. “p-patronizing?”

jake smiled, patting your hand before setting it on your own thigh. “sorry, was that a big word for you? you know, when you think you’re too good for something, but you don’t want to say it, so you play sweet and act like you’re helping me, when really, it’s the other way around.”

switching on a dime, you narrowed your eyes at him. for such a pretty boy, he had quite the attitude. “i know what patronizing means. and right now, i think you’re the one being patronizing.”

“am i?” jake asked, feigning obliviousness. “how’s it taste, cheerleader? doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your face was set in a scowl. sometimes it hurt you to play nice with people, and now was one of those times. “are you gonna help me or not?” you snapped.

“there it is,” jake sang, chuckling to himself. he put his hand on your thigh now, squeezing the flesh gently. for now. “there’s the real you.”

you swallowed, glaring over at him with a hint of defiance despite the disgusting, foreign feeling rotting in your chest. it had never gone like this before. every situation predating this one had been somewhat predictable, to the point where you’d come to expect certain reactions. this was not that.

“i’ll help you,” jake said after a pause.

you forced a smile. “great, so…”

jake interjected, “on one condition.”

smile faltering, you trailed off, processing his words. now he was making some kind of deal with you? who in the hell did this man think he was?

“on one condition?” you echoed, as if you’d somehow misheard him. your brows scrunched in suspicion. “what condition?”

jake grinned, the look on his face sly as hell and a stark contrast from the disgruntled glower on yours. “give me something in return,” was all he said, the tightening hold on your thigh giving away more than his words had.

you gawked, as if you were offended, and quickly swat at his hand. “i’m not having sex with you, you pervert!”

“sure, you’re not,” jake answered with a chuckle, eyes twinkling with amusement. everything about you was alluring to him for mostly all the reasons unintended. “but you said i’d have your attention. i guess you think it’s not often a poor, busy nerd like myself gets anyone’s attention, yeah? but nerds get tired too, don’t they? they need to de-stress…”

“that’s not my problem,” you spat. 

“you getting an F isn’t my problem, either,” jake retorted, shrugging his shoulders. “so what it’s gonna be, cheerleader?”

something about this situation isn’t right to you. maybe it’s the lack of power you currently wielded over him, despite the fact that you had gotten used to having your way with academically competent boys like himself. if he weren’t taller than you and stronger than you, you’d resort to other, more familiar methods.

but jake had changed the entire trajectory of this interaction for the worse, and now you had to determine whether or not it was beneath you to let him treat you as if you were some kind of object. you sulkily mulled it over, arms folded, trying to think of a way to maintain some semblance of power. “fine,” you finally replied, relenting. “but i’m not doing anything that requires me taking my clothes off.”

“you never seen a good porno, cheerleader?” jake asked, a stupid, taunting smile blemishing his lips. “that cute little uniform of yours is the whole appeal to some people.”

“my name is…,” you huffed irritably, tired of being referred to by your title. 

“frankly, cheerleader, i don’t care what your name is,” jake told you with brutal honesty. “you’re the one that introduced yourself as a cheerleader, like that’s your whole personality or something. thinking it would make me fold. you can’t be stupid and demanding.”

you gaped, affronted by the sheer audacity of him to even utter those words to you, like you were some dumb bimbo. “i’m not stupid! i’m just too busy.”

“right. too busy,” jake echoed, obviously none too convinced. “sorry for assuming.”

with a roll of your eyes, you stood up from the table chair, feeling utterly disrespected. “yeah, you should be,” you said, despite knowing his apology was completely inauthentic. “where’s your phone?”

jake arched a brow and glanced over to his phone, sitting face down against the table on the other side of him. before he could even respond, you reached over him to grab it and pointed it at his face, unlocking it as if you’d done it a million times before.

then, you started typing away, all the while jake watched you with an amused expression on his face. he had to admit, you were surely something. and though he found you entertaining, he couldn’t shake the thought that you desperately needed someone to put you in your place.

“reach me here,” you said after a moment, handing him his phone back. the screen was on his messages, a fresh contact with you.  “pleasure doing business with you.”

with that, you walked away. 

jake shook his head, scoffing. who the hell did you think you were?

over the next few days or so, you met with jake to better construct exactly what your expectations were pertaining to your work. or at least, those were the words he’d used. most of those limited encounters had ended with his hands sealing around your breasts.

you let it slide, deciding that a little over-the-clothes stuff was relatively harmless. after all, this was the busiest you’d been all year long, and you were far too exhausted when you got home to be burdened with stupid assignments and pesky discussion posts. the next two months, if not the next two weeks, were going to kill you if you didn’t have someone to carry at least half the workload on your behalf.

it was okay. jake’s inability to keep his hands to himself was fine. it wasn’t like anybody was going to know, or that this arrangement would last long enough for them to find out. you would get to keep your dignity and your grades, without saving one at the expense of the other.

short, sweet, and sticky, remember? maybe the latter was simply manifesting in the way jake’s hands were stuck to you. not that anything about him was sweet.

more like sacrifice.

▸ gilded age

“guess who just made the list of this week’s top ten trending sluts,” jennie said as she walked up beside you and roseanne.

roseanne perked up that, though she couldn’t help but mischievously quip, “you?”

jennie narrowed her eyes. “hoe, as if,” she spat. “i know how to keep my legs closed.”

you snickered. “god, what happened now?”

“a sex tape got leaked. hyeri, and apparently sunghoon.”

your nose scrunched, as if disgusted. “always knew she was a slut. i mean, you should have been there to see the way she acted around the jocks in high school. her eyes were practically screaming, ‘pick me, choose me, fuck me,’” you mocked.

roseanne burst into giggles, downing the rest of what was left in her red cup. “i don’t think that’s how that goes,” she chimed. “but sunghoon? is she crazy? i hope they didn’t do it raw. i heard rumors that he’s got the clap.” 

“he sure clapped something, alright,” jennie retorted, much to your amusement. “it was definitely raw. hope it was worth the itch. you guys wanna see?”

“absolutely not,” you said, shaking your head vigorously. “i bet her parents would love to see it, though. on second thought, send me it.”

roseanne gawked. “are you serious?”

you bobbed your head, grinning deviously. “yeah. you guys have no idea what that bitch was like in high school. i tried teaching her a lesson, but she just never learned. it’s like the bitch is addicted to pain or something.”

jennie shook her head, pretending to disapprove, though she was intrigued to see how far you would your obvious loathing. “just sent it.”

your phone vibrated in your hand a few seconds later. you opened your instagram burner account, scrolling through your main’s following to find hyeri’s mother’s page, and dropped the video in her inbox. your sly giggle alerted your friends to your success and you dropped your phone in your pocket, satisfied.

“oh, you’re sick,” jennie insulted playfully, nudging your arm. “i wonder if she’ll say anything.”

you shrugged your shoulders, feigning nonchalance as if you weren’t excited to see how her mother would respond. “don’t know, but i’m more curious about if she’ll talk to hyeri about it. i’d love to be a fly on the myung’s wall when that happens.”

roseanne tapped your shoulder. “hey, don’t look now, but that jake guy is staring you.”

your head whirled around, spotting jake in his own corner of the party, indeed watching your every move as if he wanted to consume you and was waiting for the perfect moment to attack. which, if he was, would not be surprising. 

roseanne sighed in annoyance. “i literally just said don’t look now.”

you turned back to face them, shaking your head. “don’t worry about that creep,” you replied, brushing it off. “he’s just begging to get in my pants. didn’t even know he went to parties.”

for whatever reason, jennie laughed. something about what you said tickled her, apparently. “um, yeah. that’s jake for you, alright. he’s either partying with his friends or grinding in the library, no in between. perfectly balanced lifestyle, i have to admit it.”

your brows furrowed. that was news to you. and probably an important piece of information that you’d conveniently missed when narrowing down your targets. maybe you should have asked around about him more. you just didn’t think that someone who studied as hard as he did could also be the life of the party.

what was he doing here, anyway? shouldn’t he have been off doing your homework? useless fucking nerdy-not.

“do you guys know each other or something?” roseanne pressed, noticing the strange tension in the air despite the fact that you and jake were feet apart. which was honestly admirable. “do you think you could get him to put me on with jungwon?”

jennie’s laughter rang out again, only this time, it was much louder, and much more mocking. “please. jungwon isn’t gonna touch any of us after how she broke his heart. you’d have better luck with jaehyun,” she sneered.

roseanne glared, a snarl on her face. “fuck jaehyun.”

“yeah, i bet you want to. i bet you’re still dreaming of that big, thick, meaty dick you wouldn’t shut up about, like, two months ago.”

“a lot can change in two months.”

“oh, it sure can,” jennie replied, humming. “it sure can.”

▸ takes two to tango

jake: come over

you: no

jake: that wasn’t a request 

you: no where in our agreement does it say you get to boss me around

jake: not even for an A?

you: that’s what your grabby hands are for

jake: i don’t have to do this, you know. i can let you be a grown up and fiend for yourself like the rest of us

you: i’m otw, chill. jesus

the knock of your fist against jake’s door was incessant, more than likely enough to exasperate his neighbors, given that it was particularly late at night and a good number of them had to have been sleeping.

jake threw the door open with a scowl, obviously irritated. “you are so fucking annoying,” he hissed, dragging you inside and shutting the door behind you. 

“ow!” you cried out, snatching your arm away. “stop that, i’m sore.”

jake shook his head, his discontent frown disappearing in favor of an entertained, idiotic smile. “sore, huh? from doing what?”

you rolled your eyes. “if it isn’t obvious, i’m a cheerleader,” you reminded, gesturing down to your uniform. “meaning, i cheer.”

ignoring your snarky attitude, jake glanced you up in down, taking in the sight of you in that tight, short cheer uniform that clung to you rather snugly. sweat still beaded at your damp legs and likely gathered between your breasts and down your back, as jake was imagining. “yeah, you cheer. you won’t let me forget,” he said, amused.

“well, i’m busy,” you said, crossing your arms.

busy, my fucking ass, jake thought to himself. “yeah, you won’t let me forget that, either. and yet, i saw you giggling with your friends at a party two weeks ago, looking completely fine. your poor, exhausted legs seemed to be working perfectly.”

“what, so i can’t have hobbies now?”

“sure, you can,” jake replied, shrugging his shoulders. “i just have to ask, do you ever do anything productive with your time?”

“of course, i do,” you hissed, before quickly deflecting, “but we both know that’s not why you made me come all the way over here. so, what do you want?”

“your attention,” jake said without missing a beat. his hands plopped against your bare shoulders and began wandering down your arms, rubbing them back and forth. “i’m in desperate need of a cheerleader’s sweet, precious attention.”

the disgruntled grimace on your face was the most effort you made to express your discomfort, not that he was looking there anyway. to him, at the moment, the sight of your body was much more appetizing. you watched with a repugnant burn simmering in your gaze as his eyes met your long, slender legs.

without warning, jake grabbed you by your waist and hoisted you into the air, making you cry out in surprise. arms dangling around his neck, you held on for dear life, not an inch of your body feeling safe in his arms. you had been hauled further away from the ground by your cheermates, but this was different; no one wanted to fail, meaning no one would drop you. you had no reason to assume that jake would handle you delicately.

but his burly arms, however, were not lost on you. though you hadn’t yet seen them in full power, your interactions mostly taking form of him forcing your back flush against the chiseled muscle of his chest as he kneaded yours, you could only imagine what the hands that groped you were capable of. 

in a matter of seconds, you landed on your back against his sheets, another shrill screech escaping your throat. “jake, what the hell?” you exclaimed. 

“i’m not getting on my knees for you,” jake said, the slyest of smiles tugging at his lips. “not unless it’s to fuck you. and you’re just too good to give it up, aren’t you?”

for him, definitely. and you would have said so, but your lips parted in a gasp, surprised and startled. something wet pushed along your sore legs, which were abruptly yanked to pillars far above your head so that they’d be more conveniently within reach of jake’s tongue as he licked long, hot lines at them.

your eyes were rooted on him, fixed in a shape unlike their natural narrowed, black blaze and it would instead be more apt likening them to the fear and fret of a deer in crossed paths. wide, waiting, almost innocent. too used to circumstance to understand its fabric and too unfamiliar to chance to understand its fate.

unsatisfied, jake bent your knee and pushed your leg further as he stood over the edge of his bed, and, in turn, over you, a grip on your ankles that you could feel in your bones. “jake, that hurts,” you whined. 

jake didn’t understand why you were bitching. “but you’re a cheerleader,” he echoed. “aren’t you flexible?”

you writhed uncomfortably as he continued shamelessly, tongue even daring to twist against the bone underneath the bend of your knee, a sensation that itched more than you expected. his lips sealed around your skin, sucking and nibbling.

needless to say, it was unlike anything you had experienced before. “stop, that’s weird!”

“stop complaining,” jake groaned, pushing your leg even harder. “it’s like all you ever do is complain about how hard your life is.”

your eyes stung now not only with loathing, but the threat of hot tears. it was stupid; it sounded dramatic, but you felt it was warranted when he was the one actively making your life harder. “you’re a fucking weirdo,” you snapped. 

jake heard it. the slight tremble in your voice despite the courage you’d been feigning. that was the sole reason he even bothered to look up at your face, the tears in them stealing his attention away in a heartbeat. he didn’t know whether to be amused or annoyed, or maybe even both. “god, now you’re crying,” he pointed out. “i haven’t even done anything to you. do you need me to give you a reason to cry?”

you shook your head. all you needed was to go home and recharge. you were beginning to doubt whether or not he was worth the trouble he carried with him in exchange for a grade that would keep your parents off your back, especially if he was going to make pulling stunts like this a regular habit. 

the last thing you expected jake to do was tug the bottom of your top past the shadow of your breasts, slackening the taut grip on your ankles in favor of your wrists as if he knew you would dare resist him, and burying his face between your chest. you exhaled shakily, mortified by the hot, wet feel of his tongue licking a stripe between your breasts, gathering leftover sweat on its tip.

and you did thrash. but you were getting a taste of that power now; a power that wasn’t your own, a power that you couldn’t reap. a power that grabbed you with its calloused fist with a might so strong you couldn’t move. and it was for the first time that you felt utterly weak. there had to be a word for something as unfathomable as that, but it was so foreign to you that you couldn’t think of it.

to make matters worse, jake was taking his time, sucking bruises onto the skin of your chest in between his licking, as if he wanted to ensure there was no spot left untouched, no drop of sweat left behind. your face strained with discomfort, wanting more than anything to get away from him and this awful feeling rotting inside of your heart.

maybe your cries for mercy were heard, because no sooner had you hoped for an end than it came. “you can go now,” jake said, pulling away. he pulled your shirt back down and smoothed out any wrinkles, which was almost kind of him.

even though you were more than eager to be rid of him, you lay there, dumbfounded. it was one thing to be violated, and it was another to be dismissed, but to happen in rapid succession of each other quickly bred some ugly emotion that was only festering.

jake had expected you to scurry out of his bed, and out of his apartment, so the fact that you were still there bemused him. “what, do you want more?” he teased. 

you shook your head, sitting up a little too quickly. your head started to feel lightheaded. you barked, “that isn’t what i agreed to!”

jake had the audacity to laugh. like you had told a joke of some kind. “isn’t it? your clothes are still technically on. that was what you agreed to. remember?”

you dropped to your feet, pushing past him. “you’re disgusting,” was all you said, making a beeline for the door.

“takes two to tango, baby,” jake called after you, simpering.

you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. there was an unpleasant stir in your gut - not as easily distinguishable as the loathing - unlike anything you had ever felt and you desperately wanted it to go away, to rid of yourself of anything that even remotely resembled jake sim.

 ▸ chess, not checkers

deep, low grunts smacked against the walls and bounced back with almost the same amount of vigor of jake’s quick, unrelenting hips, the sound nearly as hard and heavy as he was. the only thing rivaling the tightness of the hole he was using was the wince of his closed eyes and the grip of his strong hands.

jake didn’t want to see. it would be too blatantly obvious that she wasn’t you, and that it wasn’t your blemished hips he was holding. though she sounded nothing like you. he knew that you would have been so much whinier, and despite finding them painfully obnoxious, he found himself longing to hear all your worthless, melodramatic complaints.

instead, he heard soft moans mingling with his own labored sounds as his hips moved with a mind of their own, imagining it was you underneath him where you truly belonged.

the image stained the back of his eyelids, burned behind them every time he closed his eyes; the shortness of your pleated skirt scrunched around your hips, weak legs on his broad shoulders with nicks and bruises scattered here and there, arms swinging aimlessly.

and if he got tired of hearing you, he could simply press his palm squarely against your mouth, muting the sound of your incessant fussing. if he really wanted to put you in your place, he could clasp his hands around your throat and clamp down onto your windpipe till all that escaped you was a pitiful, featherlight squeak.

jake could tell no one had ever properly put you in your place before, no one had ever stood up to you and reminded you of your level. you were in desperate need of a humbling and didn’t even know it yourself. no one better than jake for the role, he figured. a little cheerleader parading around in a uniform to feel different from everybody else she met didn’t scare him whatsoever.

the only thing saving you was essentially the fact that you were undeniably pretty and not necessarily to blame for the school’s superficial culture, which elevated girls like you in terms of status despite it having no real meaning or manifestations outside of campus, and put you on top when you were within the bubble.

but outside the bubble, away from the boys who thought of you as this beautiful, unattainable poison and the girls who enabled you with a faux sense of togetherness, you had no real identity, no real power, and no real worth.

and yet, maybe jake was contributing to the problem. maybe he had inadvertently become one of the people elevating you. because choking in the heat of the moment, he uttered your name, forgetting who he was with and where he was.

hands shoved at him, hard. at least, hard enough for him to be jolted out of his reverie, finally gazing into the eyes that seethed because of him. “did you just call me that evil witch’s name?” seoa barked.

jake winced. that was a fair reaction, all things considered. he wouldn’t have wanted to have been called your name out of everyone’s, either. he rubbed his nape. “well…”

“unbelievable,” seoa replied, scoffing. she got out of the bed and hurriedly began picking her clothes up from the floor, redressing herself.

jake exhaled a breath, mostly annoyed that his orgasm had been ruined, but still feeling a hint of sympathy. “seoa, wait,” he said, touching her shoulder.

seoa recoiled, pulling away. jake had never seen anyone be so ready to put on their pants after being with him, not even with a hell of a schedule after. “never touch me again,” she spat, walking out with her shoes in tow. “fuck you.”

jake ran a hand through his hair, watching her leave, and murmured under his breath, “god dammit.”

a few days later, while they were attending a festival, jay marched over to jake, draping an arm over his shoulder, and asked, “wanna tell me why seoa blocked all of us and she’s been glaring at me and mark since she got here?”

jake snickered, shaking his head in slight disbelief. he was over it by now, he figured she would be too. “i let a certain cheerleader’s name slip while i was balls deep inside her,” he confessed. which he wasn’t necessarily proud of, considering the only reason he even knew your name was because you’d saved your own contact on his phone.

jay’s brows furrowed, glancing around as if he was trying to spot you in the crowd like a heat-seeking missle. “who?”

rolling his eyes, jake grabbed the back of jay’s head with one hand and turned it in your general direction, hoping it would help. and jake knew it had when jay’s confusion melted into disgust. 

“oh, that bitch?” he asked, nose wrinkled.

jake chuckled, releasing his friend’s head. “she’s a bitch, but she’s pretty.”

jay couldn’t argue with that fact even if he’d wanted to. “yeah, i’ll give her that. cute in the face. she’s fake as hell, though. played jungwon like a fiddle. he did six months worth of her homework because she promised they’d get together.”

that was news to jake. he knew you were cruel, having had stories from sunoo and the like, but he never knew of your history with jungwon. if it could be called that. “did they fuck?” he couldn’t help but ask.

jay shook his head, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand before he answered, “he said she always turned him down. told him she was waiting for ‘the perfect moment.’”

now that was funny as hell. jake had only known you for a few weeks and yet even he quickly pieced together that you weren’t the romantic type. “well, that’s fucked up,” he said, happily accepting yet another reason to dislike you. “but he’s dumb as fuck if he did her homework for six months without getting a crumb of pussy in return.”

jay made a face, nodding. “yeah,” he exhaled, giving the impression that he’d wanted to defend jungwon. “but man, what possessed you to say her name while fucking the seoa? i need a good excuse. you just blew my shot with her.”

jake shrugged. “don’t have one. she approached me maybe three weeks ago asking me to do her homework, and i agreed.”

jay gawked. that didn’t sound like jake. like at all. “man, what? is she paying you?”

“oh, dividends,” jake quipped.

“oh, and in what? pussy?”

“nope.”

jay looked horrified. he was so damn dramatic. “then, why the hell are you doing her bidding? that doesn’t sound like you.”

it didn’t, not immediately, but jake had his reasons. “entertainment purposes,” he replied curtly.

jay shook his head, taking another swig of his drink. certainly, he was drinking, not smoking. “you’re becoming her pawn for entertainment purposes? unbelievable, bro.”

“chess, not checkers, jay.” jake smirked, putting a hand on jay’s shoulder. “you’ll see.”

▸ things good guys do 

“you’re lucky i was already out,” jake told you when you let him into your apartment. “it’s the middle of the night for fuck’s sake. what do you want?”

“oh, please,” you spat, damn near rolling your eyes. your arms were folded. “you get to call me over at the ungodly hour, but when i do it, it’s a problem?”

jake exhaled through his nose and ran a hand through his hair, wondering why he bothered to come here when he had no obligation to do your bidding, as jay had put it. but something told him that he wouldn’t have any regrets. “yeah, it is. now, what do you want?”

you were silent for a few moments, somewhat ashamed of the request you would ultimately make. you sighed, surrendering. “i need help with calculus,” you finally said.

jake’s shoulders drooped, eyes shrinking in a contemptuous disbelief. “seriously?”

“seriously,” you repeated, sitting down on your couch as your laptop screen glared back at you from the coffee table.

jake groaned, “i seriously don’t know how you even got into this school. can’t you do anything by yourself?”

you gawked, affronted. he made you sound like some incompetent, immature dickhead. “contrary to a weirdly popular belief, i’m actually really smart,” you insisted, having the transcripts to prove it. “but my professor sucks and i need an eighty-nine on my final to keep my A. and it’s not like you can walk in and take it for me because it’s proctored.”

jake shook his head and reminded, “you know this little agreement we have doesn’t include me tutoring you, right?”

“it didn’t include you assaulting me, either,” you retorted.

“you think that was assault?” jake asked, scoffing. he dropped beside you on your couch, the proximity instinctively making you suck in a breath. “if i wasn’t a good guy, i’d show you assault.”

scooting over to ensure maximum distance between your bodies, you argued, “good guys don’t call themselves good guys.”

“good guys have self-control,” jake replied matter-of-factly, resisting a chuckle. he didn’t make a move to touch you, but he noticed how tense you looked now that he was sitting beside you. “i’ll tutor you, but we’ll have to up the terms of our agreement.”

you swallowed sharply, throat bobbing. you had a feeling you weren’t going to enjoy these new terms. “what do you want?”

“a blowjob.”

“that’s disgusting,” you spat without a second thought, features contorting with repugnance.

jake quipped, “and so is your inability to do your school work without using and depending on every intelligent boy you meet, but hey, i’m sure you can’t help that.”

you sighed, exasperated, and cradled your face in your hands. was this seriously what your life had come to? giving a boy a blowjob in exchange for a pretty transcript?

jake grinned, appreciating the sight of you in distress. it was a sign, a good sign, and he intended to bring it out of you more and more, bleeding you absolutely dry. lowering a hand onto your thigh, he urged, “come on, bruise those little knees for me. don’t you bruise ‘em for cheer?”

“that’s not the same!” you whined. 

“of course, it’s not,” jake said, squeezing your thigh as his shoulders trembled with laughter. “cheer isn’t helping you graduate with flying colors.”

you desperately wanted him to be wrong, you were begging for him to be wrong, but you both knew that if he was, he wouldn’t have been here with you at the moment. not now, not three weeks ago, not ever. so you sucked it up, slamming down your laptop lid, and grumbled, “fine.”

maybe he didn’t come here for nothing, after all. grateful he’d trusted his gut, jake stood up and clutched your arm to pull you along with him. “come on, let’s go to your room. i like my blowjobs a little messy and i’m sure you don’t want to mess up your nice carpet.”

you snatched your arm away from him, hating his insistence on touching you for every little reason whenever he possibly could, even if it was insignificant. your mouth was taut as you begrudgingly headed for your bedroom.

it was obvious that you were sour. walking behind you, jake couldn’t help but chime, “glad to see that you can at least walk by yourself!”

you bristled in annoyance, wishing you could just get rid of him, but you knew it wouldn’t be wise to discard him so quickly. at least for now, he still held some kind of value.

jake walked in behind you, looking particularly radiant, and you hated that you knew why. hell, you hated the reason itself. “get on your knees,” he commanded.

normally, you would complain about him giving you orders as if you were his lap dog or something, but you just wanted to get this over with. you were already so over this entire week. you slowly dropped to your knees, trying to ignore how demeaning it felt. 

“good girl,” jake praised at your compliance. “now, look up at me with those pretty eyes and ask me to help you with calc. ask me nicely.”

you met his eyes, noticing the expectant glimmer in his gaze that you so badly wanted to knock off. but you weren’t dumb enough to incite violence against a grown man that walked around with his bulging muscles on display for all the world to see, and you didn’t doubt that he would hit you back. “jake, please help me with calculus,” you pleaded, choosing your battles.

jake hummed, satisfied. “you sound so pretty and sweet when you ask nicely, instead of demanding things. didn’t know you were capable of that,” he told you, running his fingers through your hair. “take it out. get me hard.”

your hands moved to his sweatpants, tugging at them enough to bring them down just shy of his knees, and doing the same with his underwear. he wasn’t hard yet, but that would be an easy fix; witnessing your state of pure anguish, watching you speak and move as if you were totally dejected, always excited him.

not to mention that the sight of you on your knees for him, the more he took it in, was arousing him even more than he thought it would. he had pictured it in his mind before, you serving him, pleasuring him, existing solely for him, but nothing could compare to the sight he beheld now.

at least, nothing other than you actually doing something rather than sitting there like an idiot. he liked taking control, but he figured you would take matters into your own hands, literally, when he gave the order. “do you need me to tell you what to do or something?” he asked, huffing irritably. “put your tongue on it. tease the head.”

your face and ears burned in ways they rarely did, but you nodded wordlessly and did as told, bracing your hands on his thighs and reluctantly pressing your tongue onto his tip, looking anywhere but his eyes as the muscle swirled around.

that amused jake to no end. at least for now, he would let it slide, not feeling the need to maintain eye contact with you at the moment. if he needed to, he would simply just grab a nice, thick fistful of your hair and yank it back to jolt your head up at him. he could still see your pretty, bare face, hair arranged messily at the top of your head with a few needless strands jutting out here and there.

he liked that. of course, he would have been more than enthusiastic to have you suck him off if you’d been all dolled up, making you ruin your makeup and undo at least an hour of careful, clean work, but he also just took pleasure in seeing this natural, undone part of you. he wanted to see you for what you really were.

it didn’t take long for him to get hard. with all his thoughts revolving around you and the feel of your tongue on the head of his dick, that was a no-brainer. “good, now put it in your mouth. take as much as you can and not an inch less,” jake instructed.

widening your mouth, you accepted his stout, heavy cock into your mouth, lips forming a tight suction around the head and steadily advancing down his shaft. bit by bit, inch by nightmarishly thick inch. you had made it maybe halfway down his shaft when you quickly discovered your limit.

jake was surprisingly content, despite the fact that you definitely still had a few more inches to go. “there you go,” he said, giving your head a soft pat of approval. “suck. go slow. and don’t you dare let me feel any teeth.” 

your heart was thumping out of something you could only understand as fear, even though jake hadn’t done anything to warrant it yet. inhaling through your nose, you tried to level your breathing, taking your time to draw in his cock lest you made a mistake. the hint of warning in jake’s voice, in spite of the calmness, was clear.

jake, on the other hand, was reaching elysian heights. faint grunts of, “fuck,” escaped his pink lips, large hands at his sides reflexively tensing into tightly clenched fists in need of something to grab, hips just barely stuttering. your mouth was hot and wet, with the added benefit of your torturous tongue pressed against his size.

there was a pinch of desperacy in your actions that overcame the resistance; a desperacy not necessarily to please him, but to appease him. accidents were the last thing you could afford and eliciting his frustration was the last thing you wanted.

“lick,” jake said, chest undulating. “up and down.”

with a hum, you started drawing long, wet lines back and forth on his veiny shaft, almost as if you were tracing the bold veins with your tongue. jake’s reaction was instantaneous, deep groans the only thing you could hear other than the wet sound of your mouth on his cock, sucking and licking. 

jake’s eyes fluttered closed. “fuck. yeah, like that.”

you pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick, lingering in each spot for a moment before you continued, mostly because he seemed to like it when you did. which was your north star in an empty, dead night, because you had not a clue what the hell you were doing and you were afraid of making it obvious somehow.

if jake could tell, he didn’t make it known. he was in a world of his own, all too happily reaping the pleasure from your mouth as if it was a dream come true for him. “kiss my balls. lick it.”

you stifled the sigh you were half tempted to let loose, pulling off his cock with a wet sound and a string of saliva connecting from the sticky tip to your glossy lips. moving your head, you took a moment to steel yourself before peppering tiny, soft kisses along his balls, down to his scrotum.

it wasn’t the most dignifying thing you had ever done, it may have even been the least, but your aching, sore jaw appreciated the break from sucking. you dragged your tongue over his testicles, tasting nothing but rubbery flesh. you were too busy avoiding his eyes to notice, but his face was tensing with pleasure, lips parting in low murmurs.

compared to when you first started, jake was drastically harder now, massive, monstrous cock nearly bursting at the veins with precum leaking out from the thick tip. had your goal been to take all of him entirely, the sheer size of him would have immediately overwhelmed you.

“switch to your hand and go back to sucking me off,” jake said, firm yet quiet. it sounded like he was trying to restrain himself, barely holding it together.

at least you were a fast learner. teasing the head of his cock, you gave it a few slow, tentative licks before you began to take him into your mouth again, all the while gently fondling his balls with your fingers. jake groaned, arching into your touch. he couldn’t help himself.

you could taste the vicious amount of precum staining your tongue and you didn’t know how to describe it, other than slightly tart. the flavor blended with that of your own saliva, lingering on the roof of your mouth and the warm flesh underneath the flap of your tongue, mild as could be.

at least it wasn’t downright awful. you had heard stories before, not that you’d ever known what to make of them, or even pictured yourself being inside of them. if a month ago, someone had told you that you’d be on your knees for a man - for anyone - you would have said they were delusional.

jake’s patience had worn thin and when you least expected it, he hauled you into the air, making you cry out in surprise just as you had the first time he’d lifted you into his buff, meaty arms. he tossed you onto the bed, just shy of the headboard, and suddenly straddled your chest. you gasped out a breath.

“open up,” jake said, cock positioned right in front of your mouth.

not that he gave you the time to obey him, because he pressed himself against your slightly parted lips and forced them wider, entering your mouth on his own. your face strained, perfectly threaded brows tugging down into a discontented arch.

when you tried to pull away, jake grabbed the sides of your face and pushed you onto his shaft with trembling hands, making you take him and leaving no room for escape, not until he decided he was done with you. there was only one concern present in his mind and that was getting himself off.

tears stung your eyes, that same implacable feeling you had when he’d dragged his tongue over the expanse of your soft, shaved legs and bare, sweaty chest finding you again in the most of unwanted company. jake scoffed, spitefully tugging at your hair. “you know what’s funny? you’re such a fucking crybaby. you can’t take even half of what you give to others.”

chin flush against his scrotum and your nose not even an inch away from his bush, you almost gagged. the slurping sounds were humiliating, loud, wet squelching with every other big gulp making you want to shrink. however, jake loved it, obsessing over the idea of making a mess out of you. the sound went straight to his dick.

jake held your face in that low position, deeper than you’d ever taken him so far. “i’m really not that bad of a guy, you know,” jake said, sounding like he truly believed it. you could have scoffed, if not for obvious reasons. “you just bring it out of me. i’m really just treating you like how you treat everybody else.”

he made you sound like something straight out of hell and you couldn’t help but think it was an unfair justification for something that felt too close to punishment. he obviously thought he knew you better than he did and it made you aggravated. that, or he somehow thought he was better than you.

there was a fleeting second of relief when jake unmounted your chest and let you breathe, only to be crushed again when he dragged you by your wrists to the edge of your mattress, leaving you in the deep end. your eyes struggled to grasp with the flipped image of him nearing you, cock back down your throat before you could even blink.

though his hips thankfully had been moving at a calmer, steady pace before, despite forcing himself deeper than you could handle, he began to thrust more urgently into your mouth with the new change, embedding himself even further into your throat than you knew was possible. 

you cried harder, hating every second of it. the salty, bitter tang of your tears mingled with the tainted taste of spit and sharp bite of precum that had come to stain your chin and cupid’s bow. the vigor of his movements was overwhelming, overpowering.

“that’s it, cheerleader. cry harder,” jake taunted, tracing his thumb over your face to swipe at the trail of tears. all the while his hips were moving faster, harder.

it felt like such a mockery, him doing that. a feigned act of sympathy while perpetuating the torment that was reducing you to tears as a selfish means of achieving pleasure of his own. 

then, his hands wandered down to your breasts, slipping inside your night shirt and mauling your chest. running his hands in a circle, his thumb brushed the erect, colored nipples and he clasped his hands around your chest, squeezing your breasts. “fuck, i’m close,” he grunted, grip tightening, pace hastening, force increasing. 

with how close he was, your nose was squarely against his the flesh of his balls, effectively cutting off your exhale. your heart thudded, racing and pounding. tensing with panic, your hands frantically moved, striking at his navel and thighs. even your legs were in alarm, unstill towards the other end of the bed. 

jake groaned, smacking your cheek. another slap followed the sizzle, straight against your chest. “calm the fuck down,” he hissed, raising his arm in preparation to hit you again. “i’ll let you breathe as soon as i come, so you better not get in the way, if you know what’s good for you.”

even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stay calm. your body physically couldn’t handle it, responding the only way it knew how, trying to protect you. somebody had to. you closed your eyes, face warm with tears and panic, and you tried to brace your hands on the sheets, anything to comfort and stabilize yourself.

it got to a point where jake couldn’t hold back anymore and he climaxed with a prolonged, guttural groan, hips still brutally smacking into your mouth as he painted your tongue and the back of your throat with his cum. he went as far as to grab your head again, forcing himself onto you as deep as he could go, and demanding, “swallow it.”

like hell you would. you pushed him away, coughing and choking as soon as you did, drops of cum pooling from your mouth and some of it flying here and there in the midst of your coughing fit.

irritated, jake pressed his tongue against the roof his mouth. “you’re so fucking useless,” he groaned, grabbing his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and quickly turning on the camera. “look at you. sitting here choking on my cum. you want it again, don’t you?”

you sat up, nearly tumbling over the edge of your bed from the intense convulsing, and turned to face the other way as you hunched over, tightly clasping your sheets. “fuck off, you got what you wanted!” you rasped.

jake laughed. you sounded so gravelly. “you’re right. i did,” he replied, putting back on his pants and pocketing his phone. “so, tutoring. i’ll see you tomorrow. nighty night, cheerleader.”

he gave you a pat on the head and turned, heading straight for the door.

▸ hard feelings

something about today was different than usual. 

when you woke up, you had felt a shift in the air, but you’d chalked it up to being nervous about the final you had in three hours.

but when you finally went to go take it, however, you quickly realized that the unsettling feeling you had was not simply pre-exam jitters. it was something much more sinister than that. with the status you held on campus, you were used to being watched and gawked at, but this was different.

it felt like everybody and their mother was looking at you.

you were confused. you had been the subject of this much attention before, but only once; it was a couple years back when someone had spread a dirty, foul rumor about you. there was a social media page for your school called top ten, mostly used to shame women for their sexual exploits, but some men made their way on it too. that was how you heard about sunghoon’s clap rumor.

long story short, a rumor about you had originated there and it had taken you weeks to clear your name. but by that time, there was already another slut of the week. you were lucky to have your situation not only be false and debunked, but word of mouth. only the most unlucky of people, like hyeri, got images or videos of themselves posted.

and you were a community favorite. you would understand if you were new, but you had built a reputation around here. why would anybody believe floating rumors about you now?

but the abundance of stares didn’t end there. even in the cafe, you had caught someone watching you a little too hard to be a casual leer of admiration. and you were determined to find out why.

fortunately, you were able to find jennie and roseanne walking and talking in the courtyard, and you called out their names to stop them.

jennie turned first, and you watched her smile drop in real time. she glanced around, frantic, as if she was worried about someone watching her too.

roseanne smiled thinly, halfheartedly lifting her hand to wave. “hey,” she greeted quietly, matching jennie’s nerves.

they knew something you didn’t and it was glaringly obvious. “what’s going on?” you asked. “everyone’s looking at me and i know i’m not going crazy yet.”

jennie and roseanne glanced between each other, as if they both had bad news but neither of them wanted to be the one to tell you. after a few seconds, jennie groaned and said, “you might want to check top ten.”

your brows furrowed. you, on top ten? again? god, people could be so infuriating. “ugh, what rumor did they spread about me this time?”

jennie winced, which only made you more anxious. “it’s not just a rumor,” she whispered. “…it’s a video.”

“video?” you echoed in disbelief. that didn’t make sense. you hadn’t been with anyone except… except jake. you tensed with anger.

roseanne opened her phone to show you the video that had been posted. it was an anonymous submission that claimed to be a recording of you. unfortunately, it was you, bits of your chest exposed from jake reaching into your shirt and drops of cum landing there as you fought for breath. your face wasn’t visible, but there were some other distinguishing signs, like your hair and skin and sheets.

your heart thudded and your shoulders went cold, but your eyes were scalding. you were well aware that jake didn’t like you, you didn’t exactly love him either, but you never thought he would stoop low enough to hurt you like this.

“i’m sorry,” roseanne apologized, dropping her phone in her purse when you were done. the video was only a few seconds long, but the damage was forever. “but don’t worry. it’s not like it’s top three worthy. everyone will move on next week.”

jennie nodded in agreement and briefly patted your back. “yeah. we’ll hang out again when this all blows over, i promise.”

then, they walked away. leaving you reeling with ache and betrayal. your friends didn’t want to be seen with you anymore. you were an embarrassment.

you swallowed the bitter feeling scorching up your throat and tapped your pockets for your phone, knowing there was one person you needed to see. 

you: you and i need to talk. right now.

jake: about what?

you: don’t play dumb, i know you sent that video in!

jake: maybe u should have swallowed

you: you know what, i don’t need you. i never have. and i don’t want your help anymore. just leave me alone

jake: [one attachment]

jake: you sure about that? because i’m sure there’s plenty of people that would love to see the version with your face in it

you gawked, hiding your phone screen against your chest while glancing around to make sure no one could see.

adjusting your brightness, you unlocked your phone again and texted him back hurriedly.

you: why are you doing this?! i’ve never done anything to you

jake: this is bigger than just you and me

jake: now if you don’t want everyone to see that pretty face, come put those lips around me again and we can work something out

and that was how it started. though you hadn’t had the upper hand in weeks, this was the moment you completely lost it. what was once an arrangement for him to help you in exchange for your attention became a hole of misery that you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

one blowjob became two, and two became three until you started to immediately recognize what it meant when you saw his name appear on your screen, knowing what it was before he even asked. not that he ever technically asked. it was always a command, a claim to your body wherever and whenever he wanted.

if you tried to be strong, if you tried to break free of him, he always threatened to make sure that recordings of you on your knees for him went up for all the world to see and no one would ever think of you the same way again. he was more than willing to taint the pretty, perfect image of yourself that you presented to the world.

you felt stuck, trapped. isolated with nowhere to go, no way out. you tried to conjure up a way to escape this situation, but you couldn’t think of anything feasible. if you wanted to protect what was left of your social life and dignity, if you wanted to go outside without being ashamed, your only option was to be compliant.

no matter how many late nights and sore throats you had to go through.

you were in the middle of dozing off, your head leaning off to the side, when the sound of your phone ringing suddenly jolted you awake. you were tempted to ignore it until you saw the contact and begrudgingly pressed the phone to your ear. “hello?” you grumbled.

“i’ve been texting you,” jake said, sounding miffed.

you sighed, glancing over at the clock on your nightstand. “it’s literally two in the morning,” you complained. “i just got home from cheer practice and i’m trying to study for my last final. i haven’t even showered yet.”

“aw, poor thing,” jake crooned, pretending to care. “come over.”

you heartless, selfish bastard, you snapped in your head. of course, you were in no place to say that out loud, so you settled for a calm, “okay,” and hung up.

stifling a yawn, you grabbed your keys and lazily stepped into a nearby pair of shoes, stretching your arms above your head before willing yourself to get up from your desk chair. then, you accidentally scraped your leg against the bottom drawer of your desk, which you’d accidentally left open. 

“ow!” you cried out, bending down a little. “god, why does this world hate me? what did i do wrong?”

it was a wonder you managed to make it to jake’s apartment without getting into a wreck, although at this point, you wouldn’t care if you had as long as it killed you. or put you into an indefinite coma.

on the other hand, jake seemed strangely enthusiastic to see you and looked full of life and energy. “there you are, cheerleader,” he said, pulling you in to hug you from behind. he led you over to his couch, much like he always did. 

you covered your mouth with your elbow as you yawned. “can we get this over with? i’m sleepy.”

jake chuckled. “i don’t want you to suck me off. not right now.”

your brows furrowed, wondering if you had heard him right. if not for that, then why were the hell were you here?

“i’m sad,” jake said, not even attempting to keep the smug smile off his face. “i need you to cheer me up.”

you blinked at him like he was stupid. “cheer… you up?”

jake nodded his head, glancing you over with a grin. you looked like hell. partly because you were so obviously exhausted, but he knew he’d been having an effect on you too. “yeah, cheer me up. you’re a cheerleader,” he reminded, sounding proud of himself. “i want you to do your routine for me.”

you gawked in disbelief and whined, “i’m not even in my uniform.”

“so?” jake asked. “those bones might be tired, but they still work. matter of fact, take everything off.”

you were quick to exclaim, “what the hell? jake, can i please just do it later? everything hurts.”

“take everything off,” jake repeated, his voice more stern this time. “and move your ass.”

defeated, you reluctantly began to peel off your clothes, ignoring the way jake shamelessly ogled you for the sake of your own comfort and tugging your shirt from above your head. you couldn’t even look at him as you abashedly stepped out of your shorts and panties.

what was even more mortifying was having to perform every stupid little routine for him with your entire body on display and your chest bouncing with every motion. putting on the sweet, forced smile and calling out the chants you’d memorized, all the while ignoring how your bones ached.

when you were done, he made you sit in his lap so he could touch you as he pleased, paying no mind to the way you squirmed uncomfortably.

you cried enough tears to occupy a sixth ocean the next day. you weren’t exactly sure why. you just remembered miraculously waking up in your bed, sitting up and staring into empty space, and the water crashing down after a few minutes. it took you even longer to notice you were sobbing.

after a couple of meaningless hours, you got the random urge to call your mom, yearning to hear her voice. “mommy?” you said when she picked up.

“she calls,” your mother chirped, pleasantly surprised. “hi, baby. i was starting to wonder if you’d forgotten about little ole’ me. you know, you never come see me anymore.”

you forced yourself to laugh, trying to strip your voice of the agony so that she wouldn’t notice. “i know. i’m sorry,” you apologized quietly. “i’ll come see you soon.”

“you better,” your mother snapped playfully, no real malice in her voice. “now, what’d you call me for? and don’t say just to check up on me, because that’s a damn lie.”

“i miss you,” you confessed. 

“a lie don’t care who tell it.”

“ma,” you groaned, knowing she was just messing around. “i swear i do.”

“mm-hm,” your mother hummed. you could already picture her in your head, eyeing you with suspicion, arms folded over her chest. “let me guess why you really called. you’re having boy trouble.”

your eyes flickered in surprise. how did she know? you doubted it was exactly what she was thinking, but she was close enough. “yeah, something like that.”

there was no doubt that your mother sounded excited. you had always seem thoroughly uninterested in boys and dating, and while she was thankful when you were a teenager, it was a little worrying now. “it’s about time,” she said, clasping her hands together. “tell me all about it.”

you sighed, wondering how you could tell her about jake without making her fret. she had gotten all pumped, you didn’t want to tear her down and ruin everything. “well, there’s this guy i met almost two months ago. at first, i didn’t feel anything for him. he was just another boy, you know. someone i could keep around for a good time, not a long one.”

your mother hummed again. you could hear metal pans clacking against her counter and assumed she was cooking. she always did that. 

taking a deep breath, you continued, “but everything changed. he’s different from every other guy i’ve dealt with. he doesn’t just do what i say because i say so. and as the weeks passed, he’s started listening to me less and less than he already was.”

your mother chuckled. “and you didn’t like that, huh? got your mother’s stubborn heart and indomitable spirit.”

in truth, you didn’t think you had half of your mother’s strength, but you would never tell her that. as far as she knew, everything was going perfectly in the life you’d created here on campus. and it probably was the last time you’d spoken to her. “yeah,” you replied, wishing that were true. “i don’t like it. he makes me feel something i’ve never felt before.”

“he makes you feel powerless,” your mother told you. “he’s got you feeling weak because he’s the first man you’ve ever met willing to stand up to you. trust me, i was surprised the first time too. that’s how you got here.”

“ma,” you groaned with a wince.

she laughed. the sound made you happy, something you hadn’t been so certain you were capable of feeling anymore. “i’m just keeping it real.”

you thought about her words. she may have been way off in her perception of what this relationship between you and jake really was, but she wasn’t wrong about how he made you feel. weak, powerless. suddenly, this consuming feeling you’d been having for weeks finally had a name, and yet that made it even harder to come to terms with.

because you didn’t want to be powerless. you wanted to be in charge, in control. you hated when things didn’t go your way, and more importantly, you hated when there was nothing you could do about it. it was supposed to be you wielding power over people’s head, not being crushed beneath the weight of tyranny.

and it was then you fully realized the scope of your feelings; you absolutely hated jake sim.

  ▸ cheerleader? breed her! 

standing there in a skimpy dress, face done and your feet clamped in heels that made you four inches taller, you didn’t feel like yourself.

you thought that you would. in truth, you hadn’t feel like yourself in months. today marked a little over two months since you made the mistake of beginning that agreement with jake and you regretted it more than anything. he had completely ruined you, your life, and everything that made you feel whole.

there were pieces of yourself that you would never get back, thanks to him. it was true that everyone had forgotten about the ordeal regarding the recording of you, but not without cost. it was a price you were still paying everyday; even when you weren’t on your knees or otherwise commiting demeaning acts for the sake of jake’s entertainment, you were hurting and mourning yourself.

you were starting to wonder if it was worth it. obviously, you liked being respected amongst your fellow students, but you were no longer certain if their respect was worth the price of your sanity. it was hard for you to even have basic interactions without giving away how incredibly lonely and isolated you felt, how trapped and doomed you were. helpless and powerless.

jake came up behind you, startling you. he was like a wolf and you were a little lamb masquerading as a wolf. “there you are, baby,” he said, snaking his hands around your waist. he seemed to love doing that. “did you know our anniversary was a few days ago?”

you scoffed. the two-month anniversary of the worst decision of your life to date. there was nothing you would’ve give to undo it. doing your homework yourself would have spared you so much unnecessary pain. “stop doing that,” you whined, scanning the party. “someone will see.”

jake chuckled, clearly not giving a damn. “unlike someone, i don’t really care what people think about me.”

you wished you didn’t care. there would always be a part of you that cared, that was so afraid of what people could say about her that she would do anything to tailor her image perfectly. matter of fact, it was all you had cared about in high school, and every year after that was spent maintaining the brand.

jake’s hand went from your waist to your ass, making you tense in his grasp. “you know, i think i deserve some kind of compensation for putting up with you for two months.”

you deserved that too. freedom. being unshackled from his cruel, unrelenting orders was the one thing you wanted most and the one thing he refused to give you. “don’t you have your compensation almost every day?” you asked irritably.

“that’s not nearly enough,” jake insisted, squeezing your ass.

god, how greedy could someone be? it was like he wanted to bleed you dry until there was nothing left.

“you know what i want?” jake asked huskily, leaning into your ear. “i wanna fuck you.”

your eyes widened a little. you had hoped this day would never come, even though you weren’t oblivious to the fact that jake had steadily gotten bolder in his interactions with you, the things he made you do for his satisfaction becoming entirely more erotic. 

grabbing your arm, jake started to lead you away. “come on, let’s go.”

you rooted in place, nearly stumbling. you didn’t want to go anywhere with him, especially if it meant putting up with his insatiable urges. “jake, i don’t want to,” you said, trying to push at him.

jake scoffed, wondering when you would realize that he didn’t care what you wanted and you had no way of winning. “if you want to make a scene in front of all these lovely people, be my guest,” he hissed in your ear.

panicked, you glanced around the crowd in search of someone that could save you. it was like everybody was looking at you until you actually needed them to. 

then, you locked eyes with jungwon. matter of fact, it seemed like he’d been looking at you much before you’d even glanced in his general direction. he saw you, saw the way jake was holding you roughly, saw the obvious stiffness on your face, saw the pleading look in your eyes; but ultimately, jungwon saw the image of you letting him down after bleeding him dry for half a year, and he turned away.

your shoulders slumped in defeat.

jake started dragging you toward the stairs, pushing past a bunch of drunk people dancing on each other. your heart was thumping, and your whole body was rigid with nerves as you tried to think of a way out of this even though you knew there was no option without consequences.

just your luck, the bathroom jake hauled you too was empty. he pushed you in and locked the door, pressing you against the counter. you gasped and glanced at your reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. “jake, please,” you whispered, trying to plead with him. “please, don’t do this.”

jake didn’t seem moved by your begging, but he did, however, appear amused. “why are you acting so sensitive about this after all we’ve done together? it’s like you’ve never gotten fucked or something.”

you swallowed, not saying a word. 

the silence was very loud, very telling. jake arched a brow, a realization dawning on him. “you really have never been fucked,” he said, surprised. “damn, i should have figured that out when you were acting like you never sucked dick before.”

your face flushed with heat. it wasn’t like you were necessarily embarrassed about it, not until now. you had always taken it as something to pride yourself on, being fuckable but untouchable. “you say that like it’s a bad thing,” you replied, glancing down at the sink to avoid eye contact.

jake chuckled. it wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he had been convinced that you were completely pretending to be a goody two-shoes. to know there was at least one percent of you that was still pure amazed him. he lifted the skirt of your dress with his hand and brought it between your legs, asking, “what, you just never find anyone worthy enough for your perfect, sacred pussy?”

you gasped out when he touched you there. his fingers circled your clothed cunt, thumb digging into your inner thigh. feeling scandalized, you grumbled, “maybe i’m just not interested.”

jake shook his head, astonished by the amount of attitude you still had after all these months and determined to break it out of you. “and maybe i just don’t care if you’re interested or not.”

it went without saying that jake always made you feel like some kind of object, but this was next level. “this is dehumanizing!” you exclaimed. 

hearing you, of all people, talk about dehumanizing made for an interesting conversation. big, calloused hand pressing harder into you, he asked tauntingly, “doesn’t feel good, does it?”

your glossy, painted lips were parted, unable to breathe through your nose. your eyes burned with the threat of tears and it was becoming second nature for them to shed whenever jake was nearby. “i don’t understand,” you whimpered, trying to free yourself, but to no avail. “why are you doing this to me? what have i ever done to deserve this?”

jake could feel you struggling, trying to push him off you, but all it did was move your hips against his rapidly hardening cock. he groaned, grabbing hold of your ass and pushing you further back against him. “fuck, just like that,” he growled. “haven’t i told you this already? this is bigger than you and me.”

it wasn’t lost on you that jake obviously had heard stories about you from other people, stories of happenings you probably couldn’t deny, but it had nothing to do with him. “look, if you’re doing all this to get back at me because i hurt one of your friends or something, i’m sorry, i really am. but i can’t do this anymore, jake. i want to stop, please. please let me go on with my life.”

“what a privileged response,” jake hissed without concealing his vitriol. at the same time, he kept palming you over your panties, noticing them beginning to cling to your cunt, and tore your underwear to the side to insert a pair of fingers inside. “what about all those girls whose lives you ruined? i’m sure they wanted you to stop. and you didn’t until they were too humiliated to show their faces around here again and you had no choice.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat. he knew about the girls? “jake, i haven’t done that since freshman year,” you told him, desperately trying to reason with him.

two loud, harsh smacks echoed in the tiny, crowded space of the bathroom, followed by a gasp consequently. your pussy stung, your head jerking around to look at jake. “do you really think that matters?” he asked, grabbing your hair to turn you back around just as quickly, as if you didn’t deserve to look at him. “you think that matters when the pain you’ve done to them is permanent? they don’t forget. and they damn sure don’t forgive you.”

you tensed, hating the way your walls were gripping and gushing around his fingers. “so what? you think you’re god or something? is this you punishing me for my sins? you’re not exactly what i would call a saint, either.”

“me and you, we’re not the same,” jake remarked, a nip to his tone as if you needed the reminder of how much he disliked you. “you only pick on people that you think are below you somehow. people you think won’t fight back.”

“i know i’m not a good person,” you admitted in between gasps, thighs straining as his fingers pumped into your pussy harder, faster, reaching places you’d never touched on your own. “ i know i don’t deserve to be happy. maybe i don’t even deserve to be treated with respect, but please leave me this one thing. spare me just this once.”

jake laughed cruelly, pulling his fingers out of your drenched hole and smearing your juices all over your folds and thighs. his finger unintentionally swiped over your sensitive clit, making your legs quiver and your stomach tighten, sucking in itself.

“damn, baby. you really know how to hurt my feelings,” jake said, voice dripping with sarcasm. he withdrew his fingers, bringing them into his mouth for a taste. “you don’t want me to fuck you that bad?”

your heart was spiking with dread, thumping belligerently in your chest, your ears, and between your legs. no one had ever made you feel so vanquished.

“take my dick out,” jake said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “hurry up.”

you sighed anguishedly, turning around to undo his pants and slip his aching dick out of its confinements. for months, jake had been suppressing the urge to fuck you, wanting to wait for the moment where it would be most pivotal.

getting a hold of your throat, jake roughly yanked you flush against him the second you whirled back around to face the tiny bathroom counter, making you stand tall against his chest. his voice was almost as rough as the hands that held you. “put it in.”

you gawked, shaking your head.

his fingers tightened dangerously around your windpipe, making your damp eyes widen and your jaw slack against his whitening knuckles, maybe half a wheeze making its way out your throat before he warned, “if i have to fucking tell you again, i’m gonna crush every bone in your goddamn neck.”

with no other option, you meekly reached behind you to grasp him in your quivering hand, aimlessly steering him to your hole and sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as the tip brushed past your dripping folds. jake released a shaky breath, slapping your hand away and rutting his hips into you from behind, sheathing himself inside in one go.

he slackened his unforgiving grip on your throat, shoving you back against the counter none too gently, but you still felt like you couldn’t breathe when he entered you, a mangled whimper echoing out. your fingers desperately braced the edges of the counter for purchase as you tried to will yourself to inhale, but it was like you were choking.

jake had a death grip on your thighs, forcibly pushing them apart a little more as he coated himself with the creamy, hot wetness of your unwanted arousal. “mm, hard to believe you don’t secretly want me when you’re sucking me in like this, baby,” he said, proud.

you shook your head in denial, face flushing with a heat that spread to your ears and neck. it didn’t help that there were beads of salty, hot tears pouring down your face and reducing your vision to one big, hazy blur. you didn’t want him, not even a little bit. but you couldn’t control the way your body was responding.

the lewd, wet smack of his cock thrusting deeply into your tight cunt rang out so loudly that you wanted nothing more than to hide into oblivion and never be seen again, mortified. it made things seem so much different than they were. his long, thick cock was stretching you beyond the cusp your limits and making you gape.

“i’m so nice to you,” jake said, tipping his head back. you could see his chest rising and falling through his clothes, his body taut with pleasure and excitement. “i’ve been holding back for so long, trying not to fuck you. won’t keep me out this pussy now. i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out. have you at practice limping.”

your knees, wobbly as they already were, began knocking into the cabinets at the bottom of the sink. you winced your eyes closed as your fingers curled around the edge of the counter roughly enough to change the color around your knuckles, hoping to think of something, anything, to take you out of the moment.

but it was too hard. you couldn’t ignore the throb of your gushing walls as they kneaded his cock, making him grunt in your ear as he leaned over your backside. you couldn’t ignore the faint sting of his nails stabbing your hips and his heavy palm slapping repeatedly against your ass. and you definitely couldn’t ignore the dirtiness staining you from head to toe.

sure, it felt good, his body rocking against yours steadily, but it didn’t feel right. many nights you had pictured what losing your virginity would be like, both the way that it was supposed to look and the way that you were more inclined to, but this was neither; it was heartless, it was punishing, and it was brutal.

jake grabbed you by your hair and forced you to look into the mirror, yanking your head up. “there it is,” he spat, words sounding painfully familiar. “there’s the real you.”

your hair was messy from him tugging it every which way, treating you like a doll to mishandle. your makeup was ruined from your sobbing, the path of your tears harsh against everything else. your eyes were red and your right lash looked like it was barely holding on, the effect of rubbing at your face.

jake watched you take in the destroyed sight of yourself, practically hearing the critical thoughts hopping in your mind. “this is what you really are. this is what you’re sucking my dick to keep hidden from the world. is it worth it, baby? or do you just like the way i taste on your tongue?”

no, it wasn’t worth it. you were beginning to understand that now. he was taking too much from you, too much of your peace and too much of your sanity. maybe it would be better to be judged and lonely but free than to be loved by people whose opinion of you could change on a dime anyway at the expense of your soul. 

your pride had been buried a long time ago, brutally murdered in her sleep. “jake, please stop. i’m uncomfortable,” you complained, tearing your eyes away from your reflection in shame.

jake smacked your ass again, making you cry out sharply. “you just love being the victim when it’s convenient for you, huh?”

“i’m sorry!” you whimpered. “i don’t know what you want me to do. what do you want? just tell me.”

jake snickered, running his hands over your hips and waist to knead the flesh. then, he brushed your hair out of your face, nibbling at the skin behind your ear before growling, “you know what i want, cheerleader? i want to assassinate all there is that you love about yourself and leave everything else untouched, so that you understand not why everybody hates you, but why nobody loves you.”

those words hit you straight in the gut. for the first time, you had no retort, no comeback. 

hips beginning to move faster, jake continued, “the boys don’t love you, they just want to fuck you. they would kill to be as deep inside you as i am. the girls sure as hell don’t love you. they either want to be you, or they resent you for beating their asses. and don’t get me started on those girls you call friends.”

“jake, stop,” you whispered, an agony vicious enough to rip through flesh tearing you straight in half. 

but jake didn’t listen. he wasn’t done, not until he made his point. “don’t think i didn’t notice how lonely you were for the whole week everybody was talking shit about you. they didn’t want to touch you with a six foot pole, did they? they don’t want to be seen with you unless it gives them a good rep.”

there was a pang in your chest. you didn’t want to admit it, but that cut deep. you had heard people say mean things about you before, it was to expected when you were an emblem of popularity on campus, but few things had reached you where it hurt.

jake stroked your messy cheek, almost with affection. “but it’s okay. because you want to know something, baby? it was hard for me to admit it to myself, but you truly fascinate me. i can’t get you out of my head sometimes. you piss me off every time without fail, but i keep coming back to you. i like you, baby. if no one else does. you grew on me.”

you weren’t sure if that was supposed to make you feel better, but it didn’t. if anything, you only felt more heartbroken and wounded not only by his words, but by your inability to counter them. it truly dawned on you, right then, just how alone you were.

jake threw his head back, grunting. his hips were moving with a mind of their own, eager to finish. “fuck, i’m gonna come.”

your eyes went wide in panic, remembering that he had gone in bareback. 

“jake, don’t…”

before you could even finish your statement, jake clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling your protests into his pale palm. “you know what guys at my school used to say about cheerleaders?” he asked, obviously not expecting a response. “‘see a cheerleader, breed a cheerleader.’ ‘cheerleader? breed her.’”

you thrashed, but it was pointless. those thick, burly biceps of jake’s were one of the first things you noticed about him and they weren’t just for display. he held you in place as he quickened his pace again, his thrusts unrelenting.

with a couple more quick yet shockingly rhythmic thrusts, jake emptied his load deep, deep inside you. he moaned, moving his hands from your mouth to your hips to keep himself steady as he reeled from the pleasure of a mind-numbing orgasm. “goddamn,” he cursed, panting for breath.

you stifled a small noise as you felt his warmth flooding into you, unsure how to feel at this point. 

to your surprise, jake started fucking you again, never once daring to pull out as if he was determined to fuck every drop of his sticky cum as deep inside you as it could reach. his stringy, thick load gathered on his dick and inside your pussy, leaking down your thighs as he kept going.

you gasped out, moans involuntarily leaving you as you were stuffed full of him over and over. you didn’t mean to, but it was impossible to control.

then, jake stuck a hand between your legs and rolled his thumb over your clit, which didn’t help. you cried out, tensing. “jake, stop! it’s sensitive.”

“that’s the point, dummy,” jake replied, stimulating your clit with his hand while simultaneously pumping himself into you from behind.

your core tightened, heat wafting over you as your chest heaved wildly. “what are you doing?” you stammered. 

jake smiled, watching in the mirror how your face tensed with a blend of confusion and ecstasy that you couldn’t rein. “you really think i’m an asshole, huh? i’m trying to make you come. relax and let me.”

you shook your head. you didn’t want to come, not for him, and most definitely not on his cock for him to feel every unintentional shudder of your pussy as it gushed and pulsed with hot, sweet release; that would be embarrassing.

that made jake chuckle. “no? you don’t wanna come for me, baby?” he asked, furrowing his brows playfully as he tilted your face back up to the mirror with a push of your jaw. “come on, let go. you keep saying i’m not a good guy, but you shoot me down when i try to be nice.”

you moaned again, against your own reason and better judgment. “please,” you rasped with half a breath.

“please, what?” jake asked, rubbing you with just a pinch more force. “do you even know?”

god, you hated him; you absolutely despised him. but damn, if it didn’t feel good to have someone touch you after you’d spent so long avoiding sex like it was something to be ashamed of.

and this? this was definitely something you were ashamed of.

and yet the most shameful moment, perhaps, was when you finally couldn’t resist the pleasure of his big, long fingers twirling around your sensitive nub and his brutal hips smacking into you with a vengeance, clamping around him as you orgasmed with a loud cry and the heat shot through every corner of your body.

“shit,” jake hissed, the feel of you finishing around him draining the cum from his balls for a second time.

your jaw slacked, overwhelmed by how you felt completely and utterly stuffed, ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt. jake thrusted into you a little more, sending a flare through your back and shoulders, until he stilled for good. you could hear him panting behind you.

after a moment or two, jake pulled out. hand between your thighs, he gathered some of his stringy release on his finger and brought it up to your lips. “open up. don’t make me say it again.”

you opened your mouth wide enough for him to insert two of his cum-coated fingers inside. then, you sucked at them and swallowed it down, knowing those would be the next words to leave his mouth. 

jake raised a brow, pleasantly surprised. he took his time to withdraw his fingers, enjoying the sensation of you licking them clean. “see, i knew you loved eating my cum.”

your face burned, but you didn’t have the energy to deny it. not after that. it felt like there was a gaping hole in your chest, a void that would never be filled. 

“you’re learning,” jake commented, humming in satisfaction. “good girl. you know, maybe one day we can get along. don’t you think?”

“yeah,” you murmured weakly. at this point, you would just go along with whatever he said. and maybe that was why he figured you could experience some peace together now.

keeping your dress bunched up, jake grabbed some tissues from his left and started to wipe at you. “let’s get you cleaned up before we leave, cheerleader. don’t want the entire student body to see you like this, right?”

you whipped your head around, eyes widening in surprise. leaving to go where? certainly you weren’t going home with him after tonight. 

“did you think i was kidding?” jake asked with a sly smile, slipping your panties backing in place and giving your shoulder a fleeting kiss. “i told you, i’m gonna fuck you till your legs give out.”

[dude-iloveu]

Hello this a long shot call, am a citizen of Palestine. I am here to request for your support to help get my insulin (Humalog), just an injection for today to save my life please I beg.I was diagnosized with type 1 diabetes and due to current situation in Gaza I'm unable to get my insulin injection as a result I'm here begging for little financial support to help me purchase insulin for this week. Am sorry if am sending you again this request, kindly donate any amount please. My donation link is in my pinned post🇵🇸

11 November update:

This is a scam. I've condensed this post so it is easier to read.

Current accounts: fuzzychildlight || deliciouslightpenguin || bitchygardenarcade || magnificentdragonengineer (blog is still up but the post is gone)

Past accounts: androgynousrunawaytree || deepesttragedyprince || atomiccollect29r || androgynousmusicpeace || generousreviewladdy || scrumptiouswastelandphantom || shinytastemakerphantom ||

Please report and inform anyone you see reblogging from them (report -> unlawful uses -> phishing. explain that the blog is not legitimate and their post is using the same story by past scam accounts). Check scambuster blogs like kyra45 for guides and updated list of scams.

Also as @/nabulsi mentioned in the notes, be aware of this profile picture as well as a few others. They have been reused multiple times when a scammer makes another account:

GFM posts are very rarely scams, and there are people who thoroughly vet them! Please take your time by donating and sharing these verified fundraisers instead.

-

Mahmoud Khalaf's family reached the initial goal! Now the goal is raised to cover expenses that will be needed from moving to Ireland whenever they are able to.

Post: supportgaza

Verified by: el-shab-hussein & nabulsi (151, line 155)

Current amount: €33,873 out of €55,000.

GFM:

-

Previous GFM that I included (mohammedayesh) has reached their goal! so here is Hossam's fundraiser that is shared by him.

Post: gaza-evacuation-funds

Verified by: nabulsi & el-shab-hussein (251, line 255)

Current amount: $26,389 CAD out of $30,000.

GFM:

-

this person has reached out to me to share their campaign. The funds are going in very slowly, if you have $5 to spare please consider helping them! Abdulrahman is a skilled graphic designer and you can see his works in the link to his Behance account.

Post: abdulrahmanpixel

Verified by: nabulsi, Vetted Fundraiser Spreadsheed (225, line 229)

Current amount: $1,749 CAD out of $31,000.

GFM:

and all else do your daily click as well !

[wcnderlnds]

fool for you | kang dae-ho

・❥・ summary: best friend dae-ho gets jealous when he sees you flirting with someone else ・❥・word count: 630 ・❥・warnings: angst, sad dae-ho ・❥・ authors note: im so sry i have so much angst in my soul this week. this was a request from this list. feel free to request any!

Dae-Ho’s fist clenched at his sides, the food on his lap long forgotten as his eyes focused on the only thing that could make him feel like this. His blood was boiling, his fingers flexing in his hands as he fought the urge to walk over there. It wasn’t like he had a say, it wasn’t like he could control who you spent your time with but, man, if it didn’t hurt. Why on Earth you had taken an interest in the eccentric, purple haired junkie was a mystery to him. Then again, it wasn’t like he had told you his feelings. No, he couldn’t. You were just friends. Best friends even if he had thought about you as more than that for a long time.

He tore his eyes away from you, unable to watch as you flirty patted Thanos on the arm. That was more than his stomach could handle. Picking the food up, he shoved it to the side on the floor. If he’d even had an appetite, it was long gone by now. The ache in his chest all but consumed him.

“Hey, you good?” Your cheerful voice sounded beside him. Huh, when had you even approached him? Must have been too lost in his thoughts to even realise.

“What? Me, yeah!” He plastered a fake smile on his face, shifting his body a little so he could look at you making sure to avoid direct eye contact. You knew him far too well that the second you looked into his eyes, you’d know something was up.

“Good because I need to talk to someone,” a near squeal passed your lips. “Thanos said when we get out of here he’ll take me for a drink and I swear my heart almost beat out of my chest. He’s just so handsome and funny and he ma-”

“Can you stop talking about him for one second?” Dae-Ho cut you off, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn about him or what he does to your poor little heart.”

His outburst took you aback. Curious eyes examined his face. You noticed the clenched jaw, the way his hair was a mess from how many times he’d been running his hand through it. Oh. “You’re jealous?”

Dae-ho almost protested but what was the point in lying now? You had figured him out and there was no denying it. Anyone with eyes could see he was acting like a jealous fool. Jealousy wasn’t something he had ever experienced this deep before but his feelings for you were so pure, the thought of you with anyone else hurt. It hurt a lot. 

“I - I… yeah, I am. I think you can do so much better than him,” he nodded his head in Thanos’ direction.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Just do me a favour and don’t talk about him in front of me anymore, okay? I can’t handle it. Please spare me. If you care about me in any way, just… don’t.”

He got up to walk away but you grabbed the sleeve of his jacket trying to pull him back down. “Dae-ho, wait. Please don’t walk away.”

“Sorry.” With a frown on his face and an ache in his heart, he walked away trying to put as much distance between you as he could while he got his feelings in check.

[pucksandpower]

Mad World

Logan Sargeant x Vowles!Reader

Summary: no matter how cruel the rest of the world may seem, Logan will always have a home with you

Logan stares blankly at James Vowles, unable to process the words coming out of his team principal’s mouth.

“I’m … I’m sorry, what?” Logan stammers, his heart pounding. This can’t be happening.

James looks immensely uncomfortable but pushes on. “Alex needs your chassis since his is too damaged and the team does not have a spare. You’ll have to withdraw from the race weekend.”

The room falls into an oppressive silence as the words sink in. Logan can feel his chance at remaining in Formula 1 next year slipping away with each agonizing second. Why is he being punished for a crash that wasn’t his fault? The questions swirl dizzily in his mind.

James regards him with remorseful eyes. “I’m sorry, Logan. There’s no other way ...”

The words hit Logan like a punch to the gut. He stares at James, numb, his mind spinning. After a long silence, he nods mutely and forces out, “I … I need a minute.” His feet move without conscious thought, carrying him blindly down the corridors as burning tears blur his vision.

Logan’s heart pounds in his chest as he rushes through the hallway, tears streaming down his face. He can barely see where he’s going as he barrels toward his driver’s room. His breaths come in ragged gasps, the weight of James’ words crushing him.

How could they do this to him? After everything?

He fumbles with the handle, finally wrenching the door open and slamming it shut behind him. Logan leans back against it, sliding down until he’s sitting on the floor. Sobs wrack his body as the reality sinks in — he’s out for the weekend because of someone else’s mistake.

It’s not fair. None of this is fair.

His career, his dreams, his entire future flashing before his eyes, slipping away because Williams can’t get their act together. Why did they even re-sign him if they have so little faith? The questions swirl in his mind, only compounded by the hurt and anger burning in his chest.

Logan stays like that for who knows how long, gasping for air between cries that feel like they’re literally tearing him apart from the inside.

He’s so consumed by emotion that he doesn’t hear the tentative knock at first. When it comes again, louder this time, he jolts slightly, raising a hand to wipe uselessly at his tear-streaked face.

With trembling fingers, he pulls open the door, and you’re standing there. The mere sight of you breaks through the haze of devastation, if only for a moment.

You step inside without a word, wrapping your arms around him, and the dam breaks again. Fresh sobs spill out as Logan crumples against your chest, clinging to you like a lifeline while you softly hush him, guiding the two of you to the couch.

You maneuver him gently until his head is cradled in your lap, your fingers combing soothingly through his hair. “I came as soon as I heard,” you murmur, voice thick with shared pain. “I can’t believe they would do this to you because of their own mistakes. It’s not right.”

Logan tries to speak, to voice the turmoil inside him, but all that comes out is a strangled, “Why? I don’t … I don’t understand. It’s not my fault, so why am I being punished?” His words dissolve into hiccuping gasps. “They must not have faith in me at all. This … this is it, isn’t it? The end.”

You shush him again, cupping his face to brush the tears away with your thumbs. “Don’t think like that. The team is the one in the wrong here, not you.”

But the storm won’t be quelled so easily. Logan sits up abruptly, putting distance between you despite how his heart aches at the loss of your touch. “But soon I won’t even be a driver anymore,” he chokes out, meeting your eyes with his own reddened, devastated gaze. “You shouldn’t … you deserve so much better than me, Y/N. Better than someone whose career is over before it even started.”

“Logan Sargeant, don’t you dare say that.” You’re on your feet in an instant, hands on your hips in a stance he knows all too well — the fierce protectiveness that still makes his heart flutter, even now. “I am with you because I love you, every amazing, incredible part of you. Not because you’re an F1 driver, but because of the person you are.”

He can only gape at you, stunned into silence by the intensity of your words, the unwavering certainty in your tone. You step closer, cupping his face again, making him meet the blazing love and conviction in your eyes.

“I don’t care if you never race again, though you know I believe in you with everything I have. I’m not going anywhere, do you understand me? We’re in this together, always, no matter what.” You press your lips to his brow, his cheeks, finally claiming his mouth in a searing kiss that leaves him dizzy. “I love you,” you breathe against his lips. “I love you so much, Logan.”

He’s dumbstruck, overwhelmed by the ferocity of your devotion, even in the face of his lowest moment. How did he get so lucky as to have you in his life? In a heartbeat, Logan is kissing you again, tears of a different kind streaking his cheeks as he murmurs the words over and over. “I love you, I love you, I love you ...”

Eventually, you guide him back until he’s lying down on the couch once more, placing a small pillow under his head. “Get some rest, babe. You’ve been through the ringer today.”

He catches your hand before you can move away fully. “Where are you going?”

The fiery look in your eye makes his stomach flip. “I need to go have a … conversation … with my father.”

Logan lets out a teary laugh at your protective fierceness — one of the many things he loves most about you. “Yes ma’am.”

Leaning down, you brush one last lingering kiss to his forehead. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As you turn and head for the door, Logan feels his heart swell watching your receding form. For all the hurt today has brought, he knows more than ever that he’s the luckiest man in the world to have you by his side.

As Logan drifts into an exhausted doze, his last conscious thoughts are of you — his forever, his everything — and how lucky he is to have such an amazing love in his life.

No matter what happens next.

[thewitchblue]

"Please, we need you."

Dick was not above begging. He desperately needed your help. You don't bother looking away from cooking your breakfast. He broke into your apartment to plead for your help. Why are they bothering you this time? You retired years ago. You said flatly,

"No."

Of course they would come to you. Your power is biokinesis, and you hate using it. The ability to control the processes within every living thing felt unfair. You could control their blood cells, the photosynthesis of plants, you could use their stomach acid to attack their organs, and there are so many body horrors you can do. You could ruin people. Permanently, if you aren't extremely careful.

You can control vital organs, snap or fuse bones by controlling the calcium, and knit muscle together by manipulating the protein and blood controlling the muscles. It was overpowered, and you felt no joy in your abilities. It's beneficial, yes, but you became their crutch when someone goes rogue, and now that you are retired, you have become their last resort panic button. What's even happening? Did the Justice League become evil again? Doesn't Bruce have plans to neutralise them?

Younger you were in love with being a hero and being the best. Older you now realised how robotic and fruitless the fighting always has been. You gave up your suit. You gave up that life.

"Hate to break it to you, cupcake, but you're needed. Get in your suit."

Jason said as he, too, crawled in your window. He paused to look at Dick. They appeared to have the same idea to recruit you without discussing it among themselves. You sighed. You don't even have your suit anymore. You got rid of it to stop the temptation to return. You retired. You're done. Why can't they respect that?

"Even if I wanted to, I destroyed my suit. I'm not going out there."

The eldest brothers looked at each other as Tim also crawled in. What is this? A clown car? Where did he come from? Tim admitted sheepishly,

"We made a spare suit for you. Y'know... just in case you came back?"

He was rudely shoved out of the way by Damian. The two glared at each other for a moment before both of them gave up on their combined annoyance. Dick said,

"This is an emergency. Every other hero has been taken over except us."

You shut off your stovetop and plated your pancakes with a scowl. They deal with something like this monthly. What is the big issue now? You grabbed your fork and maple syrup.

"This happens all the time. Why do you need me now?"

Silence followed your question. None of them wanted to admit why they came to you. After a long moment of silence, Dick, ever the leader, decided to tell you since nobody else was saying anything,

"Bruce has been taken over as well."

You nodded. That makes sense then. Bruce is their beacon. Who they all turned to for any plan when there is little hope left. Still, you didn't want to come back.

"Constantine?"

"Out of commission."

"Plastic man?"

"Taken over."

"Wally?"

"Outrunning it, but unable to help."

You groaned. Obviously, they would take the League first and foremost, but the backup heroes are also taken over? What about the all of the other solo heroes?

"Am I really your last option?"

You were perplexed. Why are you among the last to be mind controlled? Was it something in the food? Tim shrugged. He explained,

"You were a missing hero. They don't expect you to come out of retirement."

You took a bite out of your pancake as you contemplated what to do. They obviously need your help, but the fight would be taxing. You're out of practice, too, so you'll be more tired than previously.

Nobody can fight someone who could fry their brain or fuse their muscles together to prevent movement, but it would take a lot out of you to fight so many heroes at once. You finally said,

"Let me finish my breakfast first."

And so they all awkwardly lounged around your apartment as you ate, to your amusement and their stress. They all felt a timer going off, but you felt like dragging your feet until you could feel your responsibility to the world suffocate you.

"When did you take this picture?"

Jason cried in outrage, holding one of your various framed photographs. You snickered. That's the photo of Jason cuddling with Artemis, clearly asleep but Jason was smiling so serenely and she was clearly trying to struggle away from Jason's iron grasp without waking him up like a trapped bunny struggling against the inevitable.

"And when did you take this?!"

Dick said as he held up his favourite plushie that you stole. He had to buy a new one after months of searching. In your defence, he never came to you and never asked for it. You said defensively,

"It was a souvenir! I took something from everybody. I stole Tim's old Superboy shirt that's honestly kind of embarrassing. Why is Kon shirtless, Tim?"

Tim decided it's best not to answer that question. Kon gave it to him. He found it in a store in Thailand and decided it was funny enough to give to Tim. Neither of them talk about it now, and it turned into a pyjama shirt for when everybody else is out of the house. It was so poorly photoshopped that it would be a shame to throw away. It's better to hide it. They laughed about it every time they looked at it now. Even Bernard found it funny when Tim showed him the shirt.

Damian stared at you with raised eyebrows. What did you take from him? He didn't notice anything missing. You gave him a sharp smile before getting up to do the dishes. You innocently said,

"Jon actually willingly gave me a goodbye picture. Does that cheek kiss mean anything?"

Damian froze as all eyes turned to him. He looked disgusted in the photo, but you could tell there was something there. What's with the Bats pining painfully for the Supes? Bruce isn't any better. They actually kissed (while undercover, but you snapped a photo and blackmailed him for weeks).

"Are me and Dick really the only normal ones?"

Jason was in disbelief. Did they break the Super curse? You scoffed,

"Dick is the only normal one, and even he dated an alien. I know about your past situation with Kara, Jason."

Jason, Jason, Jason. Always the "I'm too tough for love," but he thrives on it.

What is up with all the Bats pining aliens anyway? Tim let his crush go when he aged and met Bernard (who he never shut up about to his friends), Bruce let go of his Clark crush the day after their kiss, but Damian is still hesitant to admit he may be gay and kind of annoyed he is so similar to his father. Even their taste in men are the same, gross.

"Is there a point to your useless questioning, or are you ready to fight?"

Damian asked with crossed arms. You chuckled. He's just mad Jon gave you that photo. You have a lot of photos all over your home. Some petty, some wholesome, some purposely ugly. You had a little bit of everything.

Dick found the photo of Bruce very comfortably kissing a startled Clark. It looked like they were going to make out judging by the way Bruce was holding him and the robbers in the background. Bruce was undoubtedly thinking of a plan, but you managed to snap the picture after locking the two into place by fusing their knees together and their wrists in place.

Dick decided to question you about this after the fight. Your feet cracked as you walked to the window, drawing their attention back to you. You unlocked your window and opened it again.

"Fine. I'll fight."

You said before you crawled out of the window. The others quickly followed until everybody realised you had no idea where you were going, so Dick took the lead. You asked,

"What's the plan then? Am I fighting alone?"

Jason looked at you as if you were crazy. Alone? No. They are too antsy to sit around and do nothing. If they can be useful, they will be useful.

"Never alone, cupcake."

Jason said. You didn't know how to feel about that. They are incredibly useful, yes, but you weren't sure if they would get in your way or not.

You put on the suit in the Batcave with a sigh. Back to this chaotic storm. You said after a pause,

"You'll be the guards then. I'll work on frying the control."

The others nodded. That works for them. They need to be doing something, or they would feel useless.

You all arrive to where Bruce was last tracked to be and found a massive base. You scowled as you eyed the ranks. Most of the sidekicks would be easy to take care of, but the big members were more challenging. The control would be more established.

You decided to target Batman first in the meantime. Batman has everything possible in his utility belt, no matter how unlikely something will happen with the wits to back up his fighting prowess, so he's one of the biggest threats to your crew and you. He's dangerous.

"This is going to hurt."

You warned just before shutting down various parts of his brain. You grimaced as you forced the mind control out of him. It was a battle of wits that Bruce eventually was able to join in helping the more you pushed out.

You closed your eyes and winced. Even with the help, whatever is in control was digging their way through you as well. Bruce was the easiest one with his mental fortitude. What will happen with the others? What will you have to do for Clark? Or Wally with his speedy thoughts? Could you even keep up with his thoughts? The idea made you nauseous already. They are going to be the hardest. Wonder Woman might be the next best target. She'll be the next easiest because of her godly genetics, and she can help in the fight against Superman.

You succeeded in releasing Batman's mind control and immediately moved onto Wonder Woman. She's a massive threat already to the Bats. Batman can join the fight, but even he will struggle with Wonder Woman. He'll have to rely on the others for help while he figured out a way to take her out.

You scowled when you entered her mind. The mind control is becoming smart. It moves locations now. You have to chase it through the brain and even through the nerves and veins in the brain.

It's sentient, you realised. You thought maybe it was just a device or someone else, but no. They are a hive mind of living beings. It's a parasite that you have to chase through their brain to "cut" out. You have to cut their feeding ground.

You hissed in pain as you moved through the heroes. You have no idea how you will deal with the aliens like Starfire and especially the Supes. You had to double-check that you didn't transfer the parasite to yourself multiple times.

There are so many heroes and so many devastating combinations that you had to break up. Everybody was in chaos, but the Bats worked as smoothly as a well-oiled machine. It would be admirable if you weren't so preoccupied with both fighting heroes and killing the parasites.

The League was getting overwhelmed. They were struggling to fight off the horde of sidekicks that they trained, and the solo heroes weren't easy to take down either. You were working as quickly as you could, but these parasites are so quick in their squirming and don't give up. You were trying to fry them out and starve them without causing any lasting damage on anyone. You were so, so, so careful in protecting them that it was slowing you down substantially.

You were also being overwhelmed by the sheer numbers. Would it kill the League to stop picking up sidekicks? You managed to share with the telepaths to look out for a parasite and to distract it until you can get to the hero, but they were also struggling by the numbers.

You shuddered. You needed more help. Could you get Constantine to help at all? What about the other magicians? You weren't sure there was any more help to have. The parasites are smart and learn from each other. When one goes down, they all learn. Soon, you'll run out of tricks, and who's to say a similar parasite won't come back again? There could be more out there.

You almost collapsed when you finished the last hero, shivering. There are at least 30 sidekicks turned into newly made heroes, not even counting the League and the solo heroes, but you managed.

Before anybody could hug you or even thank you, you were gone. You slipped away silently, but everybody knew that you saved the world. You were the main and only reason they won.

The earth isn't conquered, and the heroes don't have to be killed by the Bats. You left a note to Batman about everything you learned about the parasite, but you left the clean-up to the telepaths. They can assess any damage done to the heroes better than you ever could.

You did your best to heal the damage done when you had to shut off parts of the brain in your mission, but you know the telepaths will be much better suited than yourself with assessing mental damage. Everybody was perfectly normal and functional, at least, so that had to count for something, right?

You undid all the fused bones and locked muscles as you left the building. The sound of seemingly hundreds of bones cracking back into place again is a sound you wished you weren't familiar with.

The following screams haunted your memory as you heard everybody fall to their knees in agony. You fixed their muscles and bones, so it's to be expected to be agony.

You had to decommission everybody at some point in order to work out the parasite without fuss, so everybody was in severe pain. Nothing but agony follows you, but they are all healthy, and that's all that matters in the end.

You went home after dropping off the suit into the BatCave and collapsed on your couch. Now, you can relax and retire once more. You sighed in relief at the thought. You don't know how many heroes you helped, but it felt like far too many.

You really hated being a hero.

[punkrockbuttrfly]

Disabled Trans Woman In Need

I am sorry to ask this of everyone but I really need help. Please bear with me I have never done this before.

Wednesday, April 23rd, 2025

My name is C and I am a disabled, mentally ill trans woman who currently has single digit money to her name.

My disabilities make me unable to work full time, and my part time jobs were supposed to have started by now by my references will not get back to my prospective employers so everything has stalled. I am currently living on job seeker's welfare, which is not enough to cover everything I need. I am working on getting disability welfare but the system is designed against us, and I will have to wait weeks to months to see any results, good or bad.

I have moved house twice in the last few months, from a town in Conservative heartland to a city with a thriving trans community because I would not have survived any longer in that town, but moving house is expensive and as stated above I have been unable to find employment.

My welfare doesn't come in until the 6th of the month, and is dependant on me turning up to appointments with a job centre. However, because of my disabilities I have to take public transport, and currently I cannot even afford the bus ticket to get me there, so even what little money I am waiting for is in danger.

I owe £1500 for what I borrowed to help me move house, £500 to my old water provider, £200 to my therapist, and need something to get me to the end of the month.

As I cannot walk without a cane and cannot go far with one, I am unable to regularly leave the house to earn this anywhere, and so I am turning to the kindness of strangers and community in hopes this will help me. I really have no idea what else I can do at this point.

If you can spare any aid it would go so far to helping me, but please only donate if you can afford to do so. Please also share this post if you can.

£0/£2500

P3ypal here

Thank you very much

[utilitycaster]

Daggerheart Death Moves in action

this is in reference to this post I made - now that we've seen a few more death moves, and much more combat, I want to talk through it a little bit more!

Skreev in this episode is a great example of "not wanting to say goodbye to the character yet," and specifically a great example of a player who is generally very open to PC death picking this option. I want to be clear that as someone who is very open about being pro-character death, wishes C3 had actually been deadly, greatly dislikes Vax being brought back, likes that Molly's death remained permanent, enjoyed Candela and Calamity's PC death ratios given the genres they're in, etc etc, I am staunchly against the idea that the Avoid Death option is an easy way out. It can be - any choice in a TTRPG can be, while we're at it; but no one is forcing a player to take it. The fact is Skreev has been around for barely a full episode at this point, and his death wouldn't be interesting nor hold much weight, so Liam picks it. Additionally, while Skreev is out for quite a while, he actually participates in the fight about as much as Snyx, who's conscious the whole time! By my count, in a fight with 7 PCs and 3 enemies, he is unconscious for 9 action rolls; this would not be unusual for D&D combat.

August rolls, which is the correct move as this is very much his fight - as Taliesin says, he can't be unconscious for this. It's all or nothing, and it works in his favor, with him coming back from the brink to face his greatest personal enemy, but if he died, it would be at the hands of his own backstory, which would, unlike with Skreev, be fitting. I think had this come later in the game, Blaze of Glory would have also worked (and Taliesin would be open to choosing it) but at this point in the game, in a miniseries, allowing the dice to decide if he dies here or continues feels better than a definitive end.

Misty goes unconscious both times. I don't think this is the only valid option, but I also don't think it's a problem. It's not her climactic fight, and it's in a campaign where her death would signal her being gone forever. I think if this came midway through a longer-term game, blaze of glory or rolling for it would have felt better given her connection to August, but I don't feel like her dying nor coming back from the brink dramatically is narratively necessary here. She also, as we learn in Cooldown (and which will be played out next episode - the cast forgot), obtains a scar, which does have mechnical and narrative significance. The scar mechanic is important; going unconscious is not something you can do indefinitely.

More generally: I think Daggerheart does an excellent job of eliminating some of the most bogged-down or narratively unsatisfying elements of D&D (another example is that you can do max four HP damage per attack, leading to tighter combat and fewer endless slogs of Number Go Down). The fact is, death itself can end up feeling cheap or narratively unsatisfying in D&D in a resurrection heavy campaign.

@essektheylyss mentioned in a reply on another post that Daggerheart combat doesn't force quite as rigid circumstances for players to react to given open initiative, with an example of the combat in 2x98 (Fjord's assassination) being driven by the circumstances of initiative order. I agree - I think there's plenty of cases where D&D mechanics led to a unique emergent narrative that would not occur in Daggerheart. However, I also believe the reverse is true: it's not absurd to consider that in D&D, August might have been healed a few HP, and fallen down again, and spent the entire fight in an unconscious-to-few HP cycle unable to do much else than drink healing potions. Skreev might have died first thing - or, given the increased urgency to heal multiple fallen party members, might have remained unconscious but stabilized thanks to a magic item or Spare the Dying. I think Daggerheart provides much more narrative control the players surrounding matters of character death, and I think that is a good thing. Players can make uninteresting choices (though I don't think this was the case in this episode); but that is true of any TTRPG.

[sylusonychinus]

Fake it, Till you make it

this is for @kira-loves0905 came across her post and decided to endulge in her little prompt :3

"You owe me for this."

Rafayael flops dramatically onto the couch beside you, draping himself over the armrest like a fainting noble in some period drama. You barely spare him a glance, focusing on your surroundings instead—because unlike someone, you actually take your job seriously.

"You agreed to this," you remind him.

"Under duress!" he whines, rolling his head to look at you, pouting. "I was bullied into this arrangement, Miss Bodyguard. Coerced. Trapped."

"You literally said, and I quote, ‘Fine, but only if I get to be the hot one in this relationship.’"

"And? That doesn’t mean I wasn’t emotionally manipulated." He huffs, tossing his legs over your lap, forcing you to either shove him off or accept your fate. You choose the latter. For now.

Rafayael, sensing victory, beams. "You should be grateful, you know. People would kill for a boyfriend like me."

"People would kill you for being annoying."

"And yet," he sighs, stretching like a satisfied cat, "here I am, bravely enduring the cruelty of my fake girlfriend."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Raf—"

"By the way," he interrupts, twisting to smirk at you, "how long do you want to keep this up?"

You freeze for half a second. He catches it, of course.

"...Pardon?"

He grins. "I mean, until when do you want to continue this fake boyfriend-girlfriend thing?"

The teasing lilt in his voice makes you want to shove him off the couch. But his eyes—sharp, watchful, knowing—keep you rooted in place.

"As long as I need to," you say evenly.

Rafayael hums, tapping his chin. "Hmm. So mysterious. So vague. So incredibly suspicious—"

"Rafayael."

He sighs dramatically. "Fine, fine. Keep your secrets, Miss Bodyguard." Then, as if to ruin the moment entirely (which, knowing him, is fully intentional), he flings himself against you, burying his face in your shoulder.

"But I demand compensation," he mumbles into your sleeve. "affection"

You shove him off the couch.

Rafayael yelps as he lands on the floor, groaning. "Cold-hearted!"

"You’ll live."

He groans again. Then, softer—almost to himself—he mutters, "You still didn’t answer me, though."

You don’t have an answer.

And something about the way he’s looking at you tells you he already knows that.

You should’ve known better than to agree to this.

Xavier leans against the bar, one arm draped over the back of your seat, his fingers barely brushing your shoulder. He’s playing the part of the devoted boyfriend a little too well—flashing that lazy, cocky smirk at you, tilting his head whenever you speak like he’s fascinated by every word that leaves your mouth. It’s all for show, of course. A necessary illusion to fool the ex who can’t seem to take a hint.

And yet…

His touch lingers. His gaze drops to your lips when you aren’t looking.

“Relax,” he murmurs, voice smooth as honey, just loud enough for you to hear over the chatter of the restaurant. “You’re acting like you don’t enjoy being my girlfriend.”

You scoff, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. “I don’t. This is a job.”

Xavier hums, amused. “Cold. And here I thought we were having fun.”

“Fake fun.”

He chuckles, then leans in—closer than necessary. Close enough that his breath fans over your skin, and his next words send a shiver down your spine.

“How long do you want to keep this up?”

You blink, caught off guard. “...Pardon?”

“I mean,” he murmurs, tilting his head, “until when do you want to continue this… fake boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

The teasing glint in his eyes is unmistakable. But there’s something else there, something quieter. Something that makes your stomach twist in ways it shouldn’t.

You swallow, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “As long as I need to.”

Xavier exhales a laugh, and when he speaks again, it’s softer.

“How long do you need me to?”

Your heart stutters.

This was a bad idea.

A very bad idea.

Because for the first time since this started… you’re not sure if you want it to end.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I’m gonna hold your hand.”

Sylus’ voice is laced with irritation, but his grip on your wrist says otherwise—firm, steady, reluctant.

You roll your eyes. “You agreed to this.”

“I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend. Not to act like some lovesick fool.”

“Wow, what a loss. I’m heartbroken.”

His lips twitch—like he’s trying not to smirk—but he schools his expression into something unimpressed. Typical Sylus. Always too smug for his own good.

You’d both been thrown into this situation for one reason: convenience. You needed to fend off an unwanted admirer, and Sylus—well, he had his own reasons. Reasons he refused to elaborate on. But the deal was simple: you fake date for a while, then go back to ignoring each other like always.

No complications. No real feelings.

At least, that was the plan.

Then he had to start acting like this.

Leaning down just a little too close when he talks to you. Throwing an arm around your shoulder in crowded places. Holding your gaze for a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to call him out on it.

And now, this.

“How long do you want to keep this up?”

You blink at him. “...Pardon?”

His eyes glint under the dim light of the café, unreadable as ever. “I mean, until when do you want to continue this… fake boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

He leans forward slightly, just enough to crowd your space. His voice drops lower.

“How long do you need me to?”

Something about the way he says it makes your stomach flip.

This is just an arrangement. A game.

So why does it suddenly feel like you’re the one about to lose?

“Careful, sweetheart.”

Caleb’s voice is a low drawl, a teasing lilt in it as he steadies you with a hand on your lower back. His touch lingers—fleeting, warm, familiar. You roll your eyes, pulling away, but not before you catch the smirk tugging at his lips.

“You don’t have to call me that,” you mutter.

His smirk widens. “Oh, but I do. It’d be suspicious if I didn’t.”

You exhale sharply, ignoring the way your heart stutters. You should be used to this by now—Caleb playing the role just a little too well, saying all the right things with just enough sincerity to make you second-guess.

After all, this was your idea.

A mutually beneficial arrangement. A fake relationship to keep your nosy family off your back and to help Caleb dodge some persistent admirers.

No feelings. No attachments.

And yet—

“How long do you want to keep this up?”

His voice is quieter this time, almost… hesitant. It makes you look up, catching the shift in his expression—still playful, still wearing that damn smirk, but there’s something else lurking beneath it.

“...Pardon?”

He leans forward slightly, eyes never leaving yours. “I mean, until when do you want to continue this… fake boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

Your throat dries. “As long as I need to.”

Caleb hums, tilting his head like he’s considering something. Then, with that same infuriating smirk, he murmurs—

“How long do you need me to?”

The words send a shiver down your spine.

Because he says it so casually. Like he’s asking what you want for dinner. Like he’s not subtly giving you an out while also offering to stay.

Like he’s pretending this doesn’t matter to him just as much as it does to you.

And for the first time since this whole thing started…

You don’t know what answer you’re supposed to give.

You should have known better than to make a deal with Zayne Li.

He leans back against the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of whiskey, the other resting casually on his knee. He looks utterly unfazed, like this whole arrangement—this fake dating thing—is just another one of his perfectly calculated moves.

But you know better.

There’s always something simmering beneath the surface with Zayne. A quiet intensity in his gaze, a sharp edge to his words, like he’s waiting for you to slip—waiting for you to realize just how deep you’ve let yourself sink.

“How long do you want to keep this up?”

His voice is smooth, laced with amusement, but his eyes—dark and unreadable—never leave yours.

You swallow. “...Pardon?”

“I mean,” he murmurs, swirling his drink lazily, “until when do you want to continue this… fake boyfriend-girlfriend thing?”

You hate that your breath hitches. That the way he says it—low, deliberate—sends something electric down your spine.

This is just an act. A temporary arrangement. You were the one who asked for his help. You were the one who swore there’d be no complications.

But Zayne has never been the type to follow the rules.

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping lower. “How long do you need me to?”

The words are deceptively simple, but there’s an unspoken challenge in them.

A test.

Because he’s watching you too closely, waiting for your reaction. Like he already knows you’re in too deep—like he’s daring you to admit it.

And the worst part?

You don’t know if you can anymore.

[sepherinaspoppies]

Like Him

ꕥ series masterlist & taglist ⋆. 𐙚 ˚masterlist ✧₊⁺AO3

⟢summary: Aemond's son Aelyx, is afraid to be like his father now that he has the same scar as him. (He later gets his revenge)

⟢pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Original Female Character x Original Male Character (Aelyx Targaryen)

⟢warnings: mild gore, mentions of violence, blood and injury, Aemond being a bad father, daddy issues, heavy angst, spoilers to my main story, sad with a happy ending at the end, Spanish words, but its okay cause I translated it.

⟢wc: 2824

⟢gif credit: @notalicent

So do I look like him?

Do I look like him?

-Like Him by Tyler the Creator

Vidalia had been in the nursery when she first heard it. 

A loud piercing cry followed by thunderous roar that shook the entire ground. She might’ve thought it were an earthquake, if not for Vidalia recognizing the familiar roar. 

Vermithor. 

“My lady, there has been an accident in the outer yard.” A maid sheepishly informed as she bowed her head down. 

Vidalia’s once playful smile deterred, towards the information. “What accident?” She asked, placing her babe in the arms of her trusted handmaiden. 

There had been a stinging sensation in her chest and by the way the timid maid fidgeted with her fingers and kept no eye contact with her, indicated that something bad must’ve happened.  

“It’s best you see it for yourself, my lady.” 

The maid gave her one last bow before she quickened her steps out of the nursery. Vidalia gave her little babe a kiss on his forehead as she too walked away in the direction to the outer yard. 

Along the way, Vidalia sensed the Keep was way too quiet for liking as if everyone else but her, knew what happened and decided to lock themselves in their rooms to spare themselves from her fury. 

Her first thought came to be of her second eldest son, Aelyx. Besides herself, Aelyx was one to always cause trouble amongst the Keep. Particularly towards his father whom he showed no fondness of. 

Although she often laughed at Aelyx’s pranks, she advised him to be wary of Aemond as he was quick to anger and hated mockery if it were directed at him. Aelyx shrugged her off as usual and Vidalia silently prayed Aemond would not harm her son. 

Her path to the outer yard came to be a short one as she spotted her crazed husband pounding on Aelyx’s bedroom door. 

“Open the door this instant, taoba!” Aemond bellowed. 

Aelyx shouted an angry reply in High Valyrian that she couldn’t quite make out. But she figured it was a mix of curses. 

“Please, open the door Aelyx. I’m so very sorry–”

“What happened?!” Vidalia asked, her eyes widening at the blood dripping on the tip of Blackfyre. 

Aemond felt the air in his lungs vanish as he came across his wife. He knew that by telling her what happened would ruin things between them further than what they already were. 

When she threatened to leave him before, Aemond feared she might actually do so now after the news. 

“Mi Vida, you have to believe me. It was a horrible accident in which I am deeply sorry for—”

“What. Did. You. Do?” She cut him off, uncaring for his apologies. Vidalia wanted to get to the root of the problem and she didn’t have time to hear his meaningless words. 

She wanted to know what he did to her son. 

Aemond’s lips open and closed, unable to conjure up the right words to say to not anger his wife. 

But Vidalia only scoffed irritatingly and gently knocked on her son’s door. 

“Alex, cariño, soy tu mamá, por favor abre la puerta.” She pleaded in Spanish. 

Vidalia had taught all of her children Spanish just as Aemond taught them High Valyrian. It was important to her that they knew the language from their Mexican ancestors even if no one in Westeros spoke the language. 

All of her children could speak and write it perfectly. While that made Vidalia proud, she could not help but to feel slightly vexed when Aemond constantly begged to not be kept out of the loop and to be also taught Spanish. Normally, Vidalia would not mind teaching non-Spanish speakers but when it came to her crazed husband she did mind. 

The door slightly cracked open and Vidalia took that chance to let herself in. Though, not alone as Aemond used his strength against Aelyx and pried the door wider for him. 

“Alex–” 

“Aelyx.” Aemond corrected. 

Vidalia ignored him, rushing straight to her son’s side where he had been covering his left eye with his hand. 

Almost immediately, Vidalia felt a panic attack brewing in. 

She saw the blood. The same deep crimson blood that had been on the tip of Blackfyre. 

“Show me, cariño.” Vidalia instructed as she kneeled to Aelyx’s shorter level. 

Aelyx glanced between his father and mother before he slowly brought his hand away from his wound. 

A long and gaping cut had been etched on the left side of his face. From the above his silver brow down to the tip of his cheekbone. 

The eye had at the least been spared. 

“Dios mío,” she whispered with a gasp. 

Aelyx’s lower lip twitched, pouting as he attempted to hold his tears. The young boy knew that the cut had been ugly and horrid; identical to his father’s own scar. 

There was a brief moment of silence between them, only the sound of Aelyx’s dragon whimpering in the distance, mimicking his rider’s pain. 

Vidalia didn’t fail to notice the way Aelyx moved away from her touch as she tried to examine him. 

He was scared. 

Her little boy was scared. 

A fiery rage suddenly built up inside her so vast that she stood up in all her height and turned to the person who’d been at fault. 

“You fucking did this!” Vida exclaimed, hitting Aemond square in the chest so hard he slammed his back on the wall. 

The one-eyed prince dismissed the pain, attempting to control his Vida but to no avail he could not. 

“It was a lapse in judgement. An accident. And I regret it, I’m so very sorry, mi Vida.” Aemond persisted. 

He only wanted to discipline his son after years of not being able to due his wife’s pleadings. 

Aelyx had been the most difficult of their children. Often speaking out of turn, not attending lessons with the maesters, pulling pranks on him and his family, and most importantly disobeying his orders. 

Like he had done in the outer yard.

Vidalia grabbed Aemond by the shirt of his collar, forcing to look at their injured son. “It is not me you should be apologizing but to Alex!” She hissed like a venomous snake. 

Times like this, his wife reminded him of his own mother in Driftmark when she fought and raged to his father over what the Strong bastard had done to his eye. 

“He is only just a boy. Our fucking son. You should be protecting him, not hurting him.” 

Aemond gulped, glaring at Aelyx who had been crying and holding his eye just like Aemond did those many years ago at Driftmark. 

“I’m sorry, Aelyx. Please, my son, you have to forgive me.” Aemond pleaded, keeping eye contact with his son’s brown eyes. 

However, Aelyx wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand, expression hardening and becoming dark. 

“Save your apologies. You’re only ever sorry for putting yourself at risk with mother. But now she sees what you’re capable of,” Aelyx sneered. 

Aemond attempted to rebuke this when his wife beat him to it. 

“Make yourself useful and grab me my medical bag along with a bowl of clean water. And tell the acolyte Alester to brew milk of the poppy.” Vidalia urged Aemond, letting him go out of her hold. 

Without another word, Aemond did as he was told. 

—

Vidalia spent a total of three hours stitching Aelyx’s wound. In those three long hours, she tried not to cry seeing her son wince in pain every time the needle went through his delicate flesh. 

Although she had given him milk of the poppy she knew it wasn’t sufficient enough for the pain. If she were back in the modern world, she’d make sure her son would be prescribed something better. 

But sadly they were here, in this backwards country she desperately wanted to be rid of. 

“We could fly on Vermithor, just you, me, and my brothers. He is big enough to fit us all. We could find a way back home if we leave now,” Aelyx whispered loud enough for his mother to hear because even the walls had ears. 

Vidalia paused. 

“It’s not too late,” said Aelyx as he squeezed his mother’s hand. 

Vidalia glanced back at the door, fearing for her obsessive husband overhearing. 

“One day we will. Just not now,” she assured, staring deep into his brown eyes. “Hold still, I’m about to be finished with the last stitch.”  

Aelyx wondered if his mother truly wanted to go back to her world. At a young age, he constantly overheard his parents' conversations. Most of which were about his mother expressing to his father how she longed to go back to her real family and his father angrily denying her wishes saying she had a family here. 

It didn’t take long for Aelyx to figure out that the bedtime stories about the other world Vidalia would talk about was actually the world she used to live in. 

Unknowingly to the young Targaryen, Vidalia could not take her children just yet. Seeing as Aemond killed all of the witches left to prevent her from ever going back. 

“But don’t you miss–” Aelyx tried to say before Vida cut him off.

“We’ll talk about that later. Right now, I’m more intrigued to know what happened in the outer yard.” 

Aelyx sighed and Vidalia gave a ‘go on’ look which caused his mood to sour at the memory. 

“I went to train with Daelan and Lucas, to show them the moves Ser Willis taught me when fath– Aemond came to the grounds with Crispy Cole. He saw and decided to watch us train and after a while he asked us to fight one another. Me and Daelan did but Lucas did not wish to fight, he only wanted to observe. Aemond insisted he fight and asked to pick up his sword and have a duel with me.”

“But you know how Lucas is. He couldn’t say no to his father, so he did and accidentally pushed me. I didn’t mind it seeing as we were training but Lucas began to cry thinking he hurt me. I tried to calm him down but Aemond warned us not to mollycoddle him or else he’d get used to always being babied. Then he started being harsh with Lucas and— well I defended him.” 

Vidalia clenched her jaw in outrage. 

“My sword was nowhere near long enough to defend Lucas so I unsheathed Blackfyre from Aemond and began to fight him but it wasn’t long before he unarmed me and swung the sword at my face for interfering.” 

Aelyx then remembered the look of shock and regret his father had on his face. After a few moments, Aelyx realized that Aemond only felt that way because he feared what his mother would think or do. 

And he was right. 

Vidalia felt even more disgusted towards Aemond than she usually felt. One thing for sure, Aemond would pay for what he had done to her son. 

“Are-are you mad at me?” Aelyx mumbled, his voice cracking at the end. 

Vidalia shook her head, holding her boy close to her chest like when he first came to life many years ago. 

“No, I can never be mad at you, mi cariño. I’m proud that you stood up for your brother; that makes you very brave. But as a mother, I’m sad that this happened to you. I should’ve been there.” She cried, brushing the wild silver hair from his face. 

They held each other close for a long while until Vida explained that she needed to continue to clean the wound to prevent any infection. 

Of course, Aelyx let her. 

As she did so, Aelyx could not help but to look at himself in the mirror across from him. For years he tried to convince himself that he did not look like his father. But as he grew more and more each day, he started to really see him in himself. 

There were those in the Keep who considered the identical twins, Daelan and Lucas to be an exact replica of Aemond. However, most would argue that it was him who appeared more like Aemond. Even his grandmother, Alicent said so as well as his great-grandsire Otto. 

And that infuriated him more. 

He did not want to look like his deranged father. And Aelyx certainly did not want to be like him. 

But after what happened today, Aelyx wondered if he was him. 

Is that why they treat me differently than my other brothers?

Because I look like him?

Will they whisper how I will soon follow in my father’s footsteps?

Aelyx was so in his head that he did not realize he abruptly stood up from the chair and had walked in front of his full length mirror. 

“Alex, are you okay?” He heard his mother ask. He could not look at her and instead focused solely on his own reflection. 

The young prince then began to pick out one by one the rough familiarities he shared with him. 

He recalled being told by Alicent that he was tall for his age. Like him. 

He was slender. Like him. 

His posture was like his. 

He made the same expressions like him.

His face structure was like his. 

His nose was long like his, with the same dimple in the middle of it. Like him. 

Even his weird thumbs were crooked like his. 

He had silver hair like his. 

And when it was loose and unbraided, he looked like him. 

But now what absolutely destroyed him was that he had the same identical scar as him. 

They both had been ten when they got their scar. 

He was Aemond. And he’d always be like him. 

There was no going back now. 

“Wh-Why do I... Do I look like him now?" The little boy cried as he turned to his mother for comfort.

Vidalia felt her heart break. 

“Will you hate me too?” Aelyx cried. 

She shook her head.

“Will you one day leave me too?” Aelyx asked. 

Vidalia ran to her son before he said another word. 

She picked him up with all her strength and sat him down on her lap, wiping the tears away from his beautiful eyes. 

“Listen to me, I will never hate you. Nor will I ever leave you. Please, know I will never do either of those things.” Vidalia deeply easied his worriment. 

“But you will one day as I grow because I look just like him!” Aelyx exclaimed, thrashing around his mother’s arms. 

“No I won’t.” 

“But I—” 

“—you don’t.” 

“But I do just look at me—”

“I am looking at you and I’m telling you don’t.” She moved his head away from her chest and grabbed ahold of his red puffy face on her hands. “I never thought you looked like him. Never. Maybe just your hair but then again my family also has hair like yours.” 

At her words, Aelyx stopped his wriggling. 

“Are you saying your family were also Valyrians too?” 

She gave a small smile. “No, but both my abuelo and tio had hair like yours. The same color too; silver and shiny. But my tio shaved his when he was around your age. My abuela told me it was because kids in school would bully him and one day Belen had enough and grabbed my abuelo’s hair clippers and gave himself a buzzcut. Since then Belen has always had short hair.” 

“Genetics has always been a mystery even in my world. I look more like my abuela than my own mother. I have her dark skin and eyes instead of my mother’s light- fair skin and honey eyes. These very eyes are the same ones as yours, you know.” Vidalia tried to enlighten and it seemed like it worked. 

Aelyx stopped his crying and his head filled with wonder over his mother’s side of the family. 

“If you want I can cut your hair off, but I can’t promise I’ll do a very good job,” she laughed but she secretly hoped he wouldn’t agree. She loved his hair and it reminded not of her stupid husband, but of her family back home. 

Aelyx stood from his mother’s lap. “As tempting as it sounded in the beginning, no, I don’t want to do that anymore.” Hearing the familiarities he shared with his Mexican side of the family made him want to proudly show off his features. 

Because not only was he Valyrian, he was also Mexican. 

Like his mother. 

“I do have a better idea of who should cut his hair, though.” Aelyx said with a look of mischief. 

Vidalia smirked, knowing exactly what her son meant. 

“I’ll go get the scissors!” 

In the morning, Aemond Targaryen woke up to his hair practically gone and the whole Keep heard his scream of fury.

----

notes:

I forgot to mention, Aelyx is pronounced like "A-licks" and Aelyx hates it cause Aemond named him when he was born. So he goes by Alex instead since it's as close to his original name.

If some of this is confusing please let me know, I think I suck at explaining shit ahaha.

translations:

taoba: boy

Mi Vida: my life

cariño, soy tu mamá, por favor abre la puerta: darling, i'm your mother, please open the door

Dios mío: my god

abuelo: grandfather

tio: uncle

abuela: grandmother

thank you so much for reading <3 and I hope you guys enjoyed it!!!

[teresalace]

🐸 Prince Naveen x Female Reader (NSFW) 🚩 (smut)

💃Happy marital life after the wedding~

▪︎Words: 2110

▪︎Warnings: Teasing, Cunninglingus, Naveen going down on reader on the dinnertable.

😭💕 Wrote this two weeks ago, I'm getting more comfortable with smut writing. Hope y'all enjoy! This is my second instalment of the 'Disney x reader' series 😁 first was Prince Philip. Please enjoy!

~~~~

Cooking is a part of your love language, anything to do with taking good care of your loved ones never tires you out.

Firmly handling a long wooden spoon, you swirled through a bubbling pot of gumbo, nice and slow in the thick stew. The rich meaty mixed vegetables flavor filled the entire kitchen, every breath you'd take in would be a delicious meal as you hummed a jazz tune to yourself. 

Even from afar, there was a lovely shine on your slightly sweaty skin casted down from the golden crystal lights fixed to the ceiling. Popping your hips out to every few beats of the boiling pot you continuously stirred. Oh, you couldn't wait to eat right after your husband comes back from his music band, dinner always tasted better with a loved one. 

.   .   .

Click. 

Right on time, you heard the soft thud of the front door knob opening and a faint scuffle of shoes being taken off. At that familiar sound, a happy tingly feeling rose from your stomach, not just because you were starting to feel a little peckish but you were looking forward to seeing someone...

A pair of muffled footsteps led towards the kitchen and gave you a lovely surprise.

Hearing a low melodic whistle from behind, you instantly smile and throw back a glance over your shoulder. "Oh you're absolutely glowing, my evangeline. Glowing!" Naveen said enthusiastically, leaning his side against the doorway, his sparkling teeth and wide smile never failing to lift the tiredness within you from a good day's work, his princely presence alone cheering your spirits.

Your lips spread into a loving warm smile as a chuckle rose out of you. "Why thank you, Naveen, you're looking more handsome than usual." And goodness gracious he really was, wearing sleek long pants with that favourite white polo shirt of his, the sleeved clumsily rolled up at the elbows and revealing his firm arms crossed over each other. Emphasizing the muscles there, like he was barely containing himself from springing his arms around you. 

"Of course, of course. It is both a burden and a treat to be as unbelievably handsome as I am~" He eagerly ran a hand through his luscious hair and kept it behind his head, posing unashamedly for your eyes. Never failing to reel chuckles and laughter out of you, anytime and any day.

“Uh huh, right. It must be so hard for you, baby.”

He nodded in an exaggerating fashion. "It IS very hard to have a beautiful person such as yourself by my side…” His eyes shut as he loudly breathed in the air, pausing dramatically. “Mmmmm, it smells delicious… Absolutely divine." His eyes reopened and stayed on you like a target, hardly sparing a glance to your side where the stew you cooked was. "Why don't we get comfortable and…” 

“-And miss out on dinner? Naveen, we best keep our stomachs full before anything else.” You lightly said, a scolding tone as you shook your head for good measure at his teasing expression. 

Putting down the wooden spoon on a plate, you heard a deep, almost mischievous chuckle. 

"Oh, I know a way to get full…" 

As if he couldn't wait any longer, Naveen gleefully leapt and wrapped his strong arms around you, lifting you off your feet with little effort as you yelped being brought out of the kitchen, his grip slightly crushing your breasts and you grumbled when your toes barely grazed the ground. 

Like a floating water lily unable to move as easily against rippling water, you felt like you were floating as he carried you onto the dining table. 

"Naveen–" Before any protest could come out of your mouth, his lips mashed into yours and sent your body an explosion of tingles to course through.

Not wanting to fall, you had your hands propped behind you on the table surface and continued the harmonic kiss as his warm firm hands fondled the fleshiness of your thighs for his own pleasure. Inching higher and higher towards your hips, massaging gently as his hands dipped underneath the elastics of your underwear and tugged downwards.

Any and all protest disappeared from your mind when a breeze flowed by as your underwear was gone, and you heard a slip of fabric followed by an undone belt falling to the floor. 

"I've been looking forward to this meal, princess." His mouth latched to the sensitive nub, with little pressure at first while his fingers rubbed and probed around your vulva in lazy circles to get you worked up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer for better pleasure.

And it was working.

Round and round your labia, working up a slow rhythm that build up a delicious heat in your tightening core, but his chuckles added a cherry on top vibration onto that

It didn't take long with the help of his fingertips, like the skilled musician that he is, played you like a fiddle to spur on your release, your tensed thighs relaxing around his head, an audible sigh of relief letting out from you.

Wow…

"So, how was it, (Name)?" 

A slightly sweatier Naveen smirked sweetly up at you, breathing a little heavier, his long tongue running over his glistening wet lips in a smug fashion as if he was savoring your taste and to get a reaction out of you.  

You wheezed out an answer with a dazed smile, weakly rolling your eyes at his display, trying to glance down to his handsome face in a pearly sheen from the sweat. 

"Very… Very satisfied." 

That would be enough for a long while until the next time you'll make love with him.

"Then I'm about to do it again," his happy response was swift like his readied tongue when he dove back down in between your thighs, to your dripping entrance, continuing his expert strokes and rapid flicks on your vulva. 

Hardly appearing to be exhausted though you were sure his jaw would've been sore and aching now as his flicking tongue twisted and turned in so many different angles you never knew was possible, worked another explosive orgasm out of you. 

 Your curling toes, calves tensed as he never stopped his tired tongue from lapping up your juices. 

"Ah. I-I already came," half-mewls kept slipping from your lips. "You can rest," you breathed hard and heavy and called out to the head deep in-between your thighs, your fingers interlaced with his dark locks of hair tugging a little to get his attention. "Naveen!"

"I'll stop once you've begged for more~" Now that isn’t fair, that logic of his never helps you at all and he knows that! What a greedy prince.

"Please, don't give me more," you gasped at his sped up tonguing, like adding firewood to a burning furnace. He kept firing you up.

"Naveen! I won't kiss you today if you don't take a break," you grumbled a warning, sweating like rain, meaning every word you said.

Hearing you, he paused, cool puffs of breath closely fanning over your slit and making you twitch but giving you a chance to take in a proper deep breath. 

"Fine by me, princess– I'll just kiss your other lips, they look more lonely." The pounding in your chest intensified as your hands clenched onto the table edge, mentally you weren't prepared for his determination in peppering you in ravenous affection.

His tongue resumed drawing all over your intimates, specially licking up any essence of your obvious arousal glistening under the chandelier lights like a pearl.

"From my glorious time being a frog, I have learned to never underestimate what nature can teach you." He added before lowering his entire face down, your hips involuntarily jolting at feeling the sudden pleasures multiplying the second his lips began to kiss your very clit, no doubt swollen from his previous workings.

Almost making you feel jealous of your own…. Self. 

Then came his tongue. Oh gosh, his tongue! 

It penetrated your stickiness, lava hot, made you squirm involuntarily on the edge of the dinner table. Twisting and turning inside of you skillfully, inch by inch, scissoring you while his fingers prodded around your labia teasingly like he didn't know what to do.

Pleasurable torture is the only way you could describe it as you breathed in through gritted teeth, eyes barely focusing on the chandelier above, your shaky hand pulling onto a tuff of his hair gently.

Every time you even tried to move away from his tongue, his other hand slipped around your waist and secured you in place while his silken tongue kept dancing along your inner walls, his soft lips brushing against your lower ones.

He was french kissing you in another way, gosh. And you were so weak to him.

Finally, your whole body froze and shuddered as you climaxed, locking Naveen's face against your slick for a few seconds until your limbs slackened. 

A quiet gasp for air came from below you before a small burst of laughter came.

Both of you needed a moment to breathe deeply, your face flushed in a light sheen of sweat, which was laughable in comparison to Naveen's overly pleased smirk as he rose to his feet, his chest equally as heaving as yours. 

Another comfortable moment passed by.

I… really appreciated it. You didn't have to do this so soon, Naveen…" You caressed his cheek, your thumb gently rubbing his cheekbone, watching the warm dark skin turn shades darker beneath... And your wetness shining around his mouth.

He smiled in full satisfaction and leaned into your touch, his blushing never gets old, you knew he really was a sucker for compliments especially from you. "But I really enjoyed it, thank you, honey."

"Oh believe me, it was my pleasure, darling." Yeah you believed him, a certain hard poke at your thigh from below his waistband reminded you that it's going to be your turn to satisfy him.

"Well, It's about time I give you a reward," you smiled wide teasingly, slowly unbuttoning your shirt underneath the apron, his eyes sparkled, you could almost hear his anticipating excitement, following every inch of exposed skin before your apron blocked him. "But first, dinner. I made some good o' gumbo, and we should eat it while it's piping hot." You said smoothly, pushing yourself off the table and stabilizing on wobbly legs.

Naveen laughed out hard and rubbed his belly, joking. "I think I've already eaten plenty—" Oh the gull on this man.

"—Oh no you don't, fun comes later, I will not let you be with an empty stomach no matter how 'full' you say you are. Now come on, honey." You gently cut him off with reddened cheeks, shaking your head in disapproval at him. "There will be no skipping dinner while I'm here, not on my watch." 

He jokingly rolled his eyes when you placed a hand on his hard chest and lightly pushed him for you so you'd be able to get unstuck between him and the dinning table. 

Smiling, he let you push him to the side as you sauntered into the kitchen, him naturally following you to provide some help in bringing out the plates and utensils to the table. Teamwork always sped things up.

Using two hand towels to grab the hot handles of the still boiling pot, you heaved it onto a pre-prepared thick cloth on the dining table. Naveen already set up the soup bowls for both you and him, large plates and tall glasses for water. All that's left was to bring out the fluffy rice and dinner would be served at last.

Out of nowhere, your husband nervously blurted out as you were about to sit down. "I love you, my princess, I adore you." His glimmering eyes seemed to stare straight into your soul and captured your love all over again.

You paused mid-way and smiled lovingly, "I'd say the same in a heartbeat if I wasn't starving, but I do too. I love you, Naveen." 

And just like that, both you and him leaned in over the dining table and kissed briefly... Which turns into one long smooch, leading to three then the loud rumbling of his stomach interrupted the moment right on cue. He sheepishly grinned, "guess I'd better eat before loving."

"My stomach agrees," you giggled, the powerful smell of the gumbo stew making your mouth salivate, and you weren't the only one, looking at Naveen eyeing the soup across from you. 

Dinner that evening was a lovely overflow of laughter, praises, conversations and much later a lot of fun loving. 

[archiewantsheetmetal]

Hello Layton Nation. I am creating an AU based on those freight-hopper stories set in a time based on the Great Depression.

Major PL spoilers!

This is my first ever AU I am making public! The first chapter is already in the works while I plan out the major plot points of the story.

To summarize, Professor Layton's life has been almost completely destroyed in this 1930s-esque England, amidst a economic depression. Severe economic crisis has rippled across the globe, and Layton has been unable to get back on his feet since his attack shortly after Claire's death, losing his job and his money. He's left his city life behind and now lives wherever the tracks take him, staying out of the way of his previous loved ones in order to spare them of his problems and to relieve them of his burden.

Luke Triton is much the same as he would be pre-Last Specter, but everyone was effected by the depression. His family had to juggle treading financial waters and taking care of issues within the village until a greedy, desperate-for-money, immoral organization, Targent, destroys Misthallery in search of the Golden Garden. He runs away in order to save his own life after everything he knows is destroyed. He hops into a nearby freight, and meets a sleepy and free-roaming gentleman.

They ride the tracks together until Targent, which was also hired by the government to snuff Layton out, destroys the freight while it's still moving along the rail, propelling Luke and Layton off the familiar track and into the main story;

Phantom Railway.

After escaping from Targent at last with the notion that a mysterious assassin is on their tails, Layton and Luke learn of a strange railway that supposedly suddenly appeared one day. There are many myths and legends that surround the tracks, saying that those who manage to board the train that rides them are taken to the afterlife, and any who try to follow the tracks to the end disappear, never to be seen again.

With his interest piqued and his money nonexistent, Layton figures he wants to go explore this mysterious railway. Luke, of course, with nowhere else to go, insists on going with the man, and the two set off.

Phantom Railway I hope will do at least a little bit of justice to the types of stories on which it is based, and I hope those who read it will enjoy it. It will be less of a mystery-type and more of an adventure, but I'll try my best to incorporate both aspects into the storyline as much as I can.

I came up with this idea while driving past an abandoned railway in my town, and figured it looked eerie enough to make a cool story. I then found myself thinking about one of the scenes from a movie where a group of chain-gang prisoners escape to hop into the boxcar of a moving freight train, which has always been one of my favorite scenes in cinema.

This is my first time writing a project like this, so I'm hoping it does decently.

I'm still working things out, and if anyone has any questions, please ask! Honestly, it will help me understand my own lore so I can build and write it a little more fluidly.

This is still heavily WIP, and so many things stated in this post may change!

If anyone has any sort of objections, tell me those too! Correct me on anything, talk to me, ask questions, I'm open!

THANKS! -ARCHIE ☻

[teddybeartoji]

thinking a lot of thoughts about bf!gojo :(

he will be the sweetest bf ever.. it's a bit concerning with how attached he is to you, bordering on codependency but he just cant help it he loves you too much :(( everytime youre both together on something like lunch with friends or hanging out the sight of you two is enough to give anyone who spares a glance cavities.. his eyes are so in love and hes always got that dopey smile on his face, his touch is always gentle and caring despite him being a teasing asshole sometimes 😭

and behind closed doors ... dear god this man is INSATIABLE.. always has to have a hand around you and touching you !!!! and his sex drive.. erm.. yeah.. idk i see him as the type to want to do it everyday because he just loves you too much and he doesnt know what to do with himself and all this love he has !!!! theres something sweet about him just always wanting you and wanting to make you feel good eufnhffhehrjfnf

the stark difference between you two being such a sweet couple in public but also .. having seen each other INSIDE OUT quite literally is so hot and cute.. :( that level of intimacy .. :((( BF!GOJO WE NEED YOU !!!!!! ok this has gotten too long im sorry HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU

HIIII MY SWEETHEART I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!! I'M HERE AND I'M FEELING TERRIBLY SOFT FOR HIM AND I NEED TO HAVE HIM IN MY ARMS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!!!! i agree with everything you've said nonnie!!!! and i am covering you in kisses as thanks!!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!! wait also!!!!!!!!!!!! more exclamation marks!!!!!! please please please don't apologize for rambling!!!!!!!!!! i will always hear you out!!!!! i want more actually!!!!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok everybody get comfortable bc i have some of bf!gojo headcanons for you!!!!

his pupils are literal hearts whenever he's with and whenever he's Thinking about you!!!! (i'm saying that his pupils are always like that)(he is simply unable to get you off his head)(he's not even trying)(he's so fucking in love with you).

he's constantly resting his head on your head or on your shoulder. this just came to me. he wraps his hands around your middle and he always gives you a squeeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a kiss on your neck. and he probably (read: definitely) smells you. and then hums into your skin. omfg i need to hug him so badly. i am losing my mind here nonnie...

okay and i just talked abt him taking naps with you too, right? and i just can't stop thinking about him always taking pics of you whenever you fall asleep on top of him:(((((((((((((( drooling or not, he's taking the pic!!!!!! AND i truly believe that he has begged (literally begged down on his hands and knees) shoko and suguru, so that they'll take pics of the two of you together aswell!!! satoru has a folder with like a THOUSAND pics of you both just napping together:((( he goes through it whenever he's really missing you:(((((((

ok and he loves taking showers and baths with you. loves, loves, loves. he just wants to sit under or in the water with you, just feeling your skin against him. feeling your heartbeat against him. he likes the intimacy of it all. it's so tender and so soft and so loving and he just wants to do everything with you. he's gonna take a fucking piss with you if you'd only let him.

he loves your smile sm. this is such a basic little concept but he does. nothing else in this sick world brings him as much joy as your smile and laughter. and oh my fucking god his heart feels like it's going to explode whenever he makes you laugh (which is all the time let's be honest he's very fucking funny and he is not afraid of making himself look like a fool just for you<3). he loves it when you laugh at cat videos, he loves it when you laugh at whatever the fuck is playing on the tv and he loves it when you laugh at a joke one of his friends make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he goes a little insane whenever he sees you having fun with his friends:((((((((((((((((((((( it just means the world to him:(((( and you and the younger ones too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omfg when he sees you coddling gumi and yuuji and nobara:((((((((((((((((( stop, he literally feels like he's going to cry every time i am also crying i can't do this anymore

btw he always swings your hands whenever his fingers are interwiened with yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!! and he has that big dopey smile on his lips again and his dimples are showing and he's laughing so loudly that everybody is turning to look at you both on the street but you couldn't care any less!!!!!!! how could you when your boyfriend is making your heart grow twice the size it was before and you just feel so giddy and so full of love and you want to kiss him stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he loves spending his morning with you. i actually think of him as more of a morning person actually idk how popular that concept is but yeah. don't get me wrong - he refuses to let you up from the bed for at least an hour after you wake up but he does have a lot of energy. he wants to kiss and he wants to hug and he wants to tickle and he wants you to play with his hair and he wants and he wants and he wants and you will give and give and give!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's a little lovesick puppy and he needs your attention like he needs air!!!!!

and then he wants you to brush his teeth for him. yes. you read that right. he sits you down onto the bathroom counter and bares his teeth at you like the puppy that he is and HE'S SO FUCKING CUTEEEEEE FUCKKKK CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS SO REAL I NEED TO JUST SQUEEZE HIM A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAA I NEED TO PINCH HIS CHEEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!! he still looks sleepy and his smile is so fucking big and his hands are resting on your hips, his thumbs are drawing hearts into your skin. and he most definitely kisses you before he actually rinses his mouth.............. and then laughs when the toothpaste gets all over you. it's a mess and he's laughing and you're in love.

he loves it when you baby him. he does ask for it as a joke but when you genuinely do it he gets a little flustered. the tips of his ears always turn into a shade of dark pink and he's looking at you like puss in boots. you know what i'm talking abt. big eyes, fluttering eyelashes - he loves you so fucking much. he loves it when you tuck him in bed, he loves it when you kiss his nose, he loves it when you pinch his cheeks i am biased i just said i want to do that don't look at me, he loves it when you tickle him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT STOP HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU TICKLE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS YOU TO STRADDLE HIM AND TICKLE THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF HIM HE WANTS TO LAUGH WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i died

he also loves it when you cling to him. in any way. hands around his neck, around his body, around his arms - it does not matter. he wants you to quite literally climb him like a tree. he loves it when you snuggle into him and when you refuse to let him go. and when you hold his hand and try to stop him from leaving. he's not going to go. it doesn't take a lot for him to give into you. he's folding immediately. he doesn't want to go either. he loves it when you're needy. he loves it when you whine. he loves it when you tease him. he might pop a boner. at everything you do. he just loves you sooooooooooo muchh!!

18+ HE IS INSATIABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS THEE LOVERBOY!!!!!! i think he does like to get a taste of you every single day, no matter whether it's actually having sex or it's eating you out or it's just making out or it's entertaining you with his beautiful slender fingers or it's dry humping etcetcetc. he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you - it's a must!!

i already said it but he loves intimacy!!!! like yeah ofc he likes his freaky sex as much as the next guy (he most definitely likes it more than the next guy) but he loooooves when he can just be in the moment with you!! he's always savouring you - holding your hand when his burying his dick deep inside you, he's snaking his arm around your body as he grinds into you from behind. he's licking and nipping at your skin because he just can't get enough of you. he's sucking on your tongue, he's pressing your hips down against his, he's kissing every fucking inch of your body. i truly think he wants to eat you and he wants to devour you and he wants to merge the two of you together forever<33

okay i have officially melted away... i am a puddle of love Goo... ily nonnie

[mouldycakes]

"There is something wrong with the way that I am built. I... I can't, uh, I can't just enjoy happiness like regular people, you know? [...] every time something good happens in my life, I... I just I think of when it's gonna end. That's all I can think about." - Danny (S04 E19)

Original HERE.

I saw it on Twitter and wanted to have it and suffer over here ;_; Transcript of the whole conversation in 4x19 + some thoughts:

Steve: She's pretty.

Danny: What?

Steve: Amber. Can tell she really cares about you, too.

Danny: Yeah, I'll probably screw it up like I do everything else. Right? Not in my DNA to be happy.

Steve: I didn't mean that. That's not what I meant. (Earlier, Steve had said: "Danny, if she (Amber) was the same age as you, you would come up with a different excuse, whatever you need, because you can't be happy. It's impossible for you; it's not in your DNA.")

Danny: No, I'm officially agreeing with you. There is something wrong with the way that I am built. I.. I can't, uh I can't just enjoy happiness like regular people, you know?

Steve: You don't think you're being a little hard on yourself?

Danny: No, I don't. When I was a kid, my parents would go out to eat dinner. And if they were late coming home, I used to imagine that they died in a car wreck, just 'cause they were 15 minutes late. And I used to talk to God and beg him. I said, "Please just take my dad, not my mom." 'Cause I couldn't live without my mom. I mean, every time something good happens in my life, I... I just I think of when it's gonna end. That's all I can think about.

Steve: (seriously concerned) You for real?

Danny: Yeah.

Steve: That's not normal.

Danny: I know it's not normal. Listen to this. On my wedding day, I'm looking at Rachel, just about to say "I do." And all I can see is the day she's gonna serve me with divorce papers. No joke. And I... I don't know, man. The only sustained happiness I ever felt in my life so far is Grace. And, you know, it's just a matter of time before she turns 18, and then she's out the door and she marries some schmuck. I don't know.

Steve: (serious) You got to change, man. You can't live like that.

Danny: Well, I'd like very much to change. It's just not so simple, you know?

-- after losing Billy, Rick(kinda), Grace, Meka, Matt, all the stuff with Rachel and her mother, Gracie being taken away from him almost 3? times, being used as spare parts for Charlie -because if he hadn't been sick, Danny would have never known Charlie was his son and wow if that isn't a punch to the gut-, being there for his mother and sisters when they need something and then they just go 'kay thnx bye' and disappear, all the brushes with death Steve's had, plus his own, plus the stress of worrying about everyone, plus being kidnapped tortured shot and afterwards being basically abandoned by his best friend while barely out of hospital unable to walk unassisted I'm also mad Steve didn't answer his text or his last words wtf Steve?! , not to mention the casual way Danny talks about killing himself through the seasons... and I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting some stuff! man, Danny needs therapy ;_; (and I need to rewatch :D)

EDIT: HOLY SHIT I forgot about Reyes and Colombia, what did all that go - they beat the sht out of him and the guilt he had (and boy if that's not a nice starter for Danny whump... they could have probably done something else and not just beat him up...)

I have lost count also of how many people spell it Columbia and not Colombia in fanfics; un saludo pa' mis hermanos latinoamericanos.

[vixen-diaries]

mmmh yeah i see what u mean! somehow the said niche kin stays locked in my subconscious until the weather starts to get cold and then all i can think about is how the shortcut up the road from my home leads onto a dirt road much like the one from my canon and a bunch of other wizard shit lolllll

im so glad im not alone ^_^

(Open question btw)

is it just me or does anyone else have a “seasonal kin” that only pops up at a specific time/times each year? i only have one as of now, and it shows up right around Christmas, then leaves by February. sometimes if spring is rather rainy i may get a small kinshift, but otherwise that particular kin shows up only during the winter festivities. does anyone else experience this?

- #🩵🔮✨

0

[paramountinplace]

ADHD Van thoughts (below the cut) - Apologies if you've gotten bored of these, but I cannot stop thinking about this hc. As always, I am working through my inbox and I'm so sorry if I've left an ask unanswered for a long period of time! My goal is to get through most of them soon.

Gets super flustered when she realizes she's forgotten something important. She's used to her forgetfulness being met with hostility and that's not so easily unlearned, even when the others try to be very gentle with her about it. Being so flustered only serves to make it more difficult for her to remember stuff because she gets anxious about forgetting and focuses really hard on trying to keep details in her brain, which usually backfires when focusing too hard just ends up jumbling them all up in the wrong order.

Doesn't understand why she's able to quote 95% of Jurassic Park from memory but cannot for the life of her remember to grab her wallet when she's leaving the house. It's frustrating for her to have specific pockets of very detailed knowledge about things but struggle to remember very simple things like her debit card pin at the same time.

Has big time sensory issues with her clothing being too tight. Anything form fitting is a huge no and she can get really upset with the cinched waists of hoodies and jackets. Sometimes getting her out of the house is a hassle because she hates the feeling of one shoe being tied tighter than the other, but she also can't stand when they're too loose.

If she skips a step in her routine one time, she's about ten times more likely to forget it the next time and then the step will be inadvertently dropped from the routine. She skipped the mouthwash step of her nighttime routine one time and then suddenly realized that she it had been ages since she'd gotten the bottle out of the cabinet weeks later.

Leaves things like her keys, wallet, sunglasses, etc on random surfaces in the house (mostly the kitchen) because if she puts them in drawers, she'll either completely forget they exist or be totally unable to find them again. Lottie really prefers the house not to be so cluttered, so they put a 'Van bin' on one of the counters where she can dump all her stuff and no one else can move it. It comes as a slight shock to almost everyone else that she loses stuff way less after this because the bin itself is so cluttered, but it makes perfect sense to her.

It becomes second nature for cgs to make sure they have spare sets of ear defenders in their bags when they go out because the likelihood and Van remembering them is so low. They're not just useful for her, of course, but she's the most likely to space out and not grab them.

She gets a little surprised every time someone understands a reference she makes in an attempt to explain how she's feeling about something or blurts something out that, in all honestly, doesn't really make that much sense. Her whole face totally lights up when she realizes she's come across exactly how she's intended to.

Really likes music, but gets fixated on one or a few songs at a time and doesn't want to listen to anything but those songs. Nat burns her CDs and lets her use her portable player to listen to the songs so that the whole house doesn't have to hear the same three songs on repeat for hours.

Has a habit of repeating things that are said to her as a means of giving herself an extra second to process the words. It's so second nature she doesn't always realize she's doing it.

"Van, can you pick up some paper towels when you go out later?" "Can I pick some paper towels when I go out later?" "Ye—" "Sure!"

She's not actually looking for a response—she's just processing. It gets a little confusing if she inflects like it's a question, but she's just sounding it out to herself. They all pick up on that after a while.

"Van, go pick up the dinosaurs, please." "Pick up the dinosaurs?" "The ones—" "'Kay."

[shield-and-saber]

So feel free to ignore this but I am literally so intrigued by your HCs about Sol's childhood?? Spare a crumpet pls???

P.s. thank you for filling my dash with Baze and Chirrut (and Sol) <33

so a lot of my headcanons come from a combination of trying to add context to what little we know about him in canon + my own self-projections lol. buckle up, we're going for a ride (my ideas span from his pre-jedi childhood on his homeworld probably up to his teenage years as a padawan!!)

(banner is an edit made by the blorbo from my blogs @/armoralor)

so first off, jj actually spoke very briefly about sol's childhood in an interview from july 4 where he mentions that sol was very lonely and kind of struggled with his training when he was growing up. plus we have that line from vernestra in ep 1 about how sol was shy when he was a youngling

funnily enough, i hadn't seen that interview when it first came out but i was thinking a lot about sol's childhood around that time, so i'd made like a whole post about it literally a week after, which i'll add my favorite parts here:

i keep thinking about what would make a man so dedicated to being a jedi so reckless and selfish when it comes to wanting a padawan, and all i can think about is him growing up lonely he's so shy that he's unable to connect with his peers and thus feels closest to his mentors and the adults in his life, but nothing feels satisfying to him the way he wants it to. he doesn't feel like anyone truly knows him bc his peers see him as odd and the adults see him as a child, and he feels somewhere in between

^ especially in regards to the 2nd part, i kind of headcanon sol as being neurodivergent or on the autism spectrum. now this is much more of a me-specific headcanon bc i'm also on the spectrum and i grew up feeling much the same way, so i ended up projecting onto him a lil bit. but i digress.

me personally, i was a very lonely child bc i loved books and learning more than being with my peers (and i couldn't socialize to save my life). i got along better with the teachers & other adults in my life than kids my own age. similarly, bc of sol's deep friendship and connection with vernestra, i like to think of her being a mentor to him when he was a youngling, that she was the jedi master he always turned to instead of any of his peers bc she made him feel safe and heard (maybe she was the one who found him???). plus she had her own "gifted child who advanced too fast too early" complex, so i think she would've understood sol and tried to support him (i also like the idea of her being sol's master & i know that's not canon/wouldn't work bc of qimir, but i still like to headcanon it anyways lol)

as for his family life before the jedi, i get p much all of my thoughts on that from ep 3 & 7. he tells osha that he was taken from his family at the age of 4 & that not only was he different from the rest of his family, but he discovered that with the jedi there were other children like him. so again, on his homeworld he was probably very lonely and separated from his peers bc he (and everyone else) knew he was somehow different (which would again relate to him being on the spectrum. when ur growing up and ur not neurotypical, you kinda just know that you don't fit in with everyone else but you don't understand why)

where my other thoughts on his childhood come is also ep 3 & 7 related. like i mentioned in the tags of this post, you can see how sol is reacting to his observations of the baby twins in the forest. my biggest takeaway from this scene is when koril shows up and says "there will be consequences for breaking the rules"

^ tell me that's not the face of a traumatized man. my very first thought when i realized this was, oh god he was abused. maybe that's dramatic of me, but i think that either emotionally or physically, baby sol was mistreated by his family (if he's this terrified of "consequences", did he get hit as a kid for disobeying/breaking rules/not doing the right thing?). he literally has that ptsd deer in headlights stare, he's visibly shaking, and for the rest of his time on brendok, sol is acting under the impression that the twins (but mostly osha) are in danger. he's projecting his own trauma and fears onto osha bc her predicament reminds him of his own

other less angsty headcanons i have of his childhood/homeworld have just gradually developed from wanting to see him happy, things i've seen explored in fics, etc etc. but i like to think that sol grew up in a little farming community, like a foresty rural korean village, and i think he had a mom, dad, and some siblings, altho i definitely think he was the youngest. (this also leads into my thoughts that, if sol had never become a jedi or he'd left the order, he would have been really happy becoming a farmer on his homeworld and getting married, starting a family of his own. or maybe he would've been a teacher to the local children. either way tho, i think a quiet and peaceful life with a family of his own that he absolutely treasures would've been so wonderful)

i also think maybe he was also very fond of nature. he probably enjoyed the river, exploring the woods, feeling the force energy that emanates from every living thing. so ofc when he gets taken to coruscant, that's an incredibly jarring experience for him bc everything is cold, hard metal or stone. even as beautiful as the jedi temple is, it's all stone. there's no grass or flowers or gardens or animals except for like, the one singular tree in some meditation garden i think?? and the last surviving piece of the planet is the highest mountain that you can only see the very top of. so i think maybe that contributed to sol feeling alone as a young padawan bc he was disconnected from nature and it left him feeling really unmoored for a long time

so like, all of that combined with sol's inherent fondness for children really screams to me about a boy who grew up feeling very alone, probably didn't have a lot of friends, and had a very emotionally painful life, and then he saw all these little younglings who want to become jedi and he thinks to himself "i could show them that they don't have to be afraid, that there are no wrong answers when it comes to the force, i won't let any of these children feel the way that i did". which is, i think, why he connected so much to osha ("you're going to be okay, osha. you will never feel like this again."). he saw that she didn't want to be on brendok, she felt like an outcast among her family, and he really connected with that 💔