#(and jake is indeed correct!)

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Scary ghost stories obviously do not work on art historians who speak 9 languages and can read 12 more.

The Librarians S04E07 And the Disenchanted Forest.

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

Blood binding and Sauron’s intentions

My pal @rey-jake-therapist and I were in one of our usual friendly discussions about this topic in one of her posts, but since the theme digresses so much from her original intent and I��m pretty much spamming her OG post by now, we decided to move the debate to here, and invite the fandom to join in.

As customary, Rey always presents good and challenging counter-arguments to mine. Because it's possible to disagree and keep it civil and friendly. This is good fandom etiquette, and this is the point of debates, after all: sharing different ideas and perspectives on the same topic. We usually end up agreeing on disagreeing and it’s all good in the end.

What were Sauron’s intentions and goals in stabbing Galadriel with Morgoth’s crown in 2x08? 

2x01 / 2x08 parallels: “Only blood can bind.” (Adar; 1x05)

1) Binding/Enslaving Galadriel to his Will

Rey made the case for Sauron’s intention of possessing and dominating Galadriel using Morgoth’s crown. And that we should focus on present intentions, and not lose yourselves in “what if” scenarios (with this I totally agree, so, let's focus on the present time).

This theory states that Sauron wanted to enslave Galadriel to his will, by having her handing over Nenya, in submission. This would explain why Galadriel seemed “bewitched” while removing Nenya from her finger, and almost surrendering it to him.  

This means Sauron has “outgrown” his intentions from 1x08, when he wanted to serve Galadriel (due to his Maia nature; he was created to be a servant to a Vala). Now, he wants full power, and he’s not willing to share it with anyone else (Galadriel included):

Sauron only wants to dominate/possess Galadriel now: she humiliated him when she refused him in 1x08, he developed an obsession for her, so he punished her with physical pain (the stabbing), and attempted to possess her so she would follow him.

And so, if blood binding theory is true, this would work like the Nine and the Nazgûl, with Galadriel not only being a servant, but a slave to Sauron. This theory can also imply she would have, indeed, become a Ringwraith herself, as her soul was entering the Unseen world (“Shadow realm”) when Gil-galad and Arondir found her.

This is a very strong theory, and I think many fellow fans share this view, as well. Would it pass Sauron to do something like this? Absolutely not, and it would not be OCC for him to have this intention, at all.

So what’s my problem, you might ask?

This facial expression right here:

Unless Charlie was having a case of fatigue eyes due to extensive use of contact lenses (speaking from personal experience), there’s no explanation for Sauron getting all teared up when he believed Galadriel was about to join him, if his intention was to enslave her to his will, and that’s what he was doing here.

And no, Galadriel can’t deceive him. This is underestimating Sauron’s power: he’s the “great deceiver”, and only he can deceive himself, really. And if they are, indeed, blood bound, Galadriel couldn’t possibly hide anything from him. And I already made the case for how Galadriel was about to join him, freely, in another post.

2) “You bind me to the light, I bind you to power”

Speaking of Sauron’s intentions, we need to remember the creator of this character and what he says about him. Tolkien tells us (in Letters 131, 153 and 183) that “Annatar” still has “fair motives”: he’s a reformer who, truly, wants to rebuild/heal Middle-earth, and he’s genuine in this endeavor (nevermind his methods, that’s why he’s a villain). Rey counter-argumented this does not translate in a desire to serve Galadriel, and she’s correct.

However, what was his intention in 1x08?  

And if Sauron still has a genuine concern in healing Middle-earth, what if his intention with Morgoth’s crown was giving Galadriel his power, while harvesting her light for himself, just like he wanted in 1x08? And if this was his intention, why would he keep her soul “trapped” in the Unseen world? What if he wanted to make her queen of the Seen and Unseen world? Not a mere queen of Middle-earth, but as nearly as possible to a literal Goddess he could serve?

Because Sauron/Mairon can’t escape his nature, he was created to be a servant, a Maia to a Vala. And, right now, he doesn’t want to serve Morgoth. Even though he does it, unconsciously, and perhaps he recognized this after he killed Celebrimbor in a rage fit (something that’s completely OCC for him, because that’s not who he is; Sauron is a control freak, a mastermind).

This scene with Galadriel happened after that; and Sauron cried because, when he looked up at Celebrimbor, all he could see was Morgoth’s bounds on him reaching the surface. And that chaotic destruction is Morgoth, not Sauron. And he doesn't want that at this point on his character arc in Tolkien lore. I think this is when Sauron makes the decision to bind himself to Galadriel, one way or the other.

I absolutely disagree with the idea that Sauron stabbed Galadriel to punish her or kill her: if that was his true intention he would have used Morgoth sword (he was already using it in his duel with Galadriel the entire time), not a powerful dark magic object infused with own blood (because Adar used it to destroy his previous physical form), nor he would have carried that thing around the entire time while mentioning "binding" twice (“I never believed I could be... Until today. Fighting at your side, I... I felt... If I could just hold on to that feeling, keep it with me always, bind it to my very being, then I...” (1x06); “The door is still open”).

“Binding” (usually connected with “blood oaths”) and “enslaving” are two different kinds of blood magic. Because the Nine rings of power are pieces of jewelry meant to be worn by ring-bearers, with a small dosage of Sauron’s blood (along with other specific spells). Morgoth’s crown not only has a lot of Sauron’s blood on it, but we also don’t know what kind of dark magic it actually contains: we only know it was made to hold the Silmarils and it can destroy Sauron’s physical form (implying that, maybe, Sauron doesn’t have much control over this object?).

Sauron accidentally sharing his power with Galadriel is nonsense to me, as well. He's ancient, has been around since before the world existed (he helped create that very world), has been a master in blood magic and every sort of sorcery for thousands of years, and he’s one of the most powerful Maia in existence, but isn’t aware he would be giving Galadriel some of his power by binding himself to her? When he clearly mentions this in 1x08? "I bind you to power". Because Galadriel appears to be seeing the world in a whole new way in 2x08 epilogue (and even her eyes look off):

Besides, Galadriel is suppose to be a powerful sorceress of her own right in Tolkien lore, mastering several powers. In the legendarium Galadriel own power was amplified by Nenya, yes, but this isn’t the case in “Rings of Power”, because we haven’t seen her displaying any magical powers in Season 1. She won’t have any other powers in the show (besides healing and foresight/visions), completely cutting off with Tolkien legendarium? If the show keeps it true to the lore on that bit, where did her powers (look into others’ hearts and minds, and communicate telepathically) come from? Will they “magically” appear out of nowhere? When and how? But, if these powers came from Sauron it’s because he wanted it to happen, and that was his intention. And if that was his intention, what was his purpose with this if not to serve her?

And Sauron does share power: he does share his power with those he wants to enslave; via the rings of power. That’s why Celebrimbor tells him he’s their prisoner, and not their master. However, these are two very different kinds and degrees of magic. Because with the rings ("enslave") he can control how he wants it to go; while sharing his actual power with another living being ("blood oath") is uncontrollable. He can’t possible know the end result of it.

I know there’s a popular theory that Adar was blood bound to Sauron, but I don’t think so. Adar not only doesn't have any magical powers, but he wouldn’t be able to kill Sauron himself, if that was true. Blood binding is a blood oath, and it’s forever, unbreakable, and it prevents beings from harming or acting against one another (physically) in any direct way. That’s why “Rings of Power” introduced the clue that Sauron might be blood bound to Morgoth in 1x03; and that’s the reason he could never leave nor forsake his master even when he came to resent him.

This means, that, in "Rings of Power", Sauron, most likely, only has Morgoth as a reference to blood oaths. And he probably thinks this will go the same way with Galadriel, and he’ll keep her light to himself, allowing him to keep Morgoth at bay. Only her “light” is merely aesthetic, really. The light that shines on her hair and eyes is the light of the Two Trees of Valinor, and it shines on every Elf that was born during the Years of the Trees (and not only her). Because Galadriel is a complex and nuanced character, and ticking bomb that can turn dark at any minute.  

[mothdruid]

First Session

synopsis.

your first session at Gym Bloom has come. and the first trainer you get to meet? everyone's favorite and the beloved, Jake S.

pairing.

jake 'hangman' seresin x afab!reader

word count.

4k

warnings.

this is an 18+ work, minors buzz off. smut, protected penetrative sex, vaginal fingering, a sex gym (so maybe paying for sex?), fucking your trainer

author's note.

it's here!! the first gym bloom one-shot! i hope you all love it!

“Wait, so your first session is today?” Steph sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” you pulled a purple sports bra from your dresser, “why?”

“Oh my god, who is your first trainer?”

You rolled your eyes at Steph's eagerness. Ever since getting you to join this gym she has been eager. She wanted to know everything, even though you barely knew yourself. All you knew was that they used sex to workout at this gym. Steph knew that too, she was to one who referred you. Which is how you knew it was safe, referral only. You could only sign up if you got a referral from someone you knew. And from your understanding, not everyone was actually allowed to refer people to sign up. So, you were counting yourself lucky to even be a part of this at all.

“I’m not sure, let me put my bra on and then I’ll look at the email.”

First you tapped your speaker phone on, then wrestled your sports bra on over your head. After checking to make sure that your sports bra and legging combo looked okay, you grabbed your phone. Steph was going on and on about a few different trainers. A Mickey, a Bob, a Nat, and others that you eventually tuned out for now. You went to your starred emails, clicking the one at the very top. You skimmed over the email, eventually finding the name.

“It’s Jake S,” eyeing the rest of the email, confirming the other general information of your session. You squinted as you noticed two lock codes.

“No way! How did you get so lucky?” Steph's tone had you pulling the phone back from you a little farther.

“Steph, calm down.”

“No, you don’t get it. That’s one of Blooms best trainers, a real treat if you ask me, or at least that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve actually never trained with him before.”

Oh?

“Never?” You questioned with a playful tone.

“Never.” Steph sing-songed back to you.

A smirk formed on your face.

“Well, I’ll make sure to update you about it,” you turned your speaker phone off, slipping the phone between your cheek and should as you head to the front door.

“Please do, I will have to know everything about it.”

“Oh, Steph, gross,” you slipped your tennis shoes on, not bothering to untie them first.

“What? I’m a woman, I have needs, and this need just happens to be knowing what Jake’s di-”

“Nope, Nope, I’m hanging up now!” You hung up quickly, not wanting to hear the rest of Steph's words.

After tracking down a baggy zip up hoodie, zipping it up only half way. You found your small side bag, checking to make sure your keys and wallet were in there. After you doubled checked, you grab your keys from your bag and slip your phone in your hoodie pocket. You locked your apartment door then headed down the stairs of your building. The place wasn’t fair from your apartment, maybe a fifteen minute walk on a bad day.

When you got to the building, you double checked the address after not seeing any obvious branding outside. After deciding it was indeed the correct building, you punched in the first code. A delightful chime played, signaling it was the correct code and unlocked. The hallway was short, but you noticed another keypad on the next door. You got another delightful chime after putting in the second code, finally letting you into the gym.

It was a very welcoming space. Bright colors complimented by neutrals to even it all out. There were ellipticals, treadmills, bikes, and many other machines neatly placed throughout the main open area. There were people using the machines, some others were chit chatting happily. There was a section of the gym that had a lot of doors, two closed and three open. You assumed those were the ‘training’ rooms.

“Hello!”

There was a gorgeous woman behind a short counter greeting you. Her skin was tan, dark brown hair pulled into a loose low ponytail. She had a matching pastel pink legging and sports bra set on. Your heart fluttered a little bit when she smiled at you. It was as if an angel was gracing you with their presence.

“Hi,” you awkwardly said.

“Do you have a session today?” She asked.

“Yeah, a two forty-five with Jake S.”

“You must be the new client,” she offered her hand out over the counter, “my name is Natasha. I’m one of the other trainers here.”

“Thank you, I’m glad to meet you,” you shook her hand, trying to match her smile and energy.

“So, I’ll check you in so Jake knows you’re here. For now you can go get a little bit of a warm up on a treadmill or elliptical, whatever you prefer. There are also locker rooms before the Bloom Rooms. Jake will come get you when he is ready.” Natasha smiled, marking something in the computer before looking back up at you.

“Okay, thank you,” you hated how awkward you were being.

“It’s my pleasure,” a sultry tone was laced into her words.

Heat flared in your cheeks. You nodded then turned, briskly walking towards the locker rooms. After entering the female locker room, you quickly placed your bag and hoodie into a locker. You kept your phone in the pocket of your leggings, not wanting to be completely bare without it. You found your way back to a treadmill, starting it up at a low pace. It was maybe five minutes before someone came up next to you, tapping your shoulder to grab your attention.

He looked like a living ken doll. Square jaw, blonde hair, green eyes, and fucking built. If this was the magical Jake S, you now understood what Steph was going on about. His biceps were hard to ignore, every minuscule movement noticeable. The black sleeveless shirt was hugging his torso and abdomen, not leaving anything to the imagination. You stopped your eyes from traveling lower, wanting to leave at least something to the imagination. At least for the time being.

“Nat says you’re my new client.”

A Texan drawl? Could he get anymore intoxicating?

“That’s me,” you hit the stop button, coming to a slow stop.

Jake came around the side to met you when you got off the treadmill. He offered you his hand for the small step down. It was surprising how soft his hand were despite the callous’.

“Let’s get headed to a room, I’ll explain more in there.” Jake said. His hand let go of yours, finding the small of your back as you headed to the room. He directed you into one of the ‘Bloom Rooms’.

The walls were covered in a soft pink color with forest green floral. One wall was an entire mirror, a rail for balance along the entire mirror. There were balance balls, cubes, wedges, a Bosu ball, and many other items along the wall. A nice dresser was along the same wall, a nice vase with flowers sat on top. You watched Jake close the door in the reflection of the mirror.

“So, how does this,” you motioned around the room, “work?”

“Well, I’ll direct you on what to do. Positions, reps, stretches, all the technical stuff.” Jake explained it so plainly, making you wonder if there was a catch.

“What do I do then? Besides listen and get fucked?”

“Oh no, sweetheart. I’m not goin’ to fuck you, you’re goin’ to fuck me.”

A smile was plastered on his face. Heat encapsulated your entire body, every nerve ending on fire from his words. No wonder he was a favorite, especially with this demeanor. You shifted your weight on your feet, crossing your arms before speaking.

“What’s the plan?”

“Well, today is going to be a leg day. You will be riding me in a squat-like position, working your glutes, quads, hamstrings, along with many other muscle groups. Since it’s your first workout here, I won’t make it too intense. But that’ll also depend on how much you can take.”

“How much I can take?” You asked in a surprised tone.

“Yes,” Jake brought a hand to the back of his neck, “everyone is different.” Jake stared at you for a moment, then clapped his hands together and took a few steps forward. “Let’s get started with some stretching.”

Jake strode over towards the wall with many items, retrieving some yoga mats, one for the both of you. You met in the middle of the room, taking the mat from him. You two laid your mats out, leaving a decent space in between them. You watched as Jake toed his shoes off, following suit before sitting on your mat.

“On your back, I’ll help you stretch.”

You nodded, laying on your back and watching Jake move towards you. His green eyes were raking over you, observing all of your movements. Jake had you prop your knees up. The soles of your feet were flat on the mat, Jake’s thumb hooked underneath your knees. His eyes were locked with yours, gaze not wavering.

“Let me know if anything is too much or not okay.”

You nodded.

Jake started to ease your knees towards your chest, folding you in half. You could feel the backs of your thighs and glutes being stretched. Jake’s body was impossibly close to yours already, his crotch was almost pressed to your ass. Heat was radiating from his body, covering yours entirely. Your knees were practically pressed into your chest, cheeks hot, his gaze making you burn.

“Is it okay if I open your legs up?” His grip on the back of your thighs was making it hard to focus.

“I- yeah, that’s okay.”

Jake nodded, hands adjusting to under your knees. His gently eased your legs out, keeping them bent at the knee. You brought a hand up to your mouth, pressing the back of it against your lips. It had become so sensual so quick. His crotch was now unbelievably close to your clothed cunt. All he would have to do is roll his hips and he would be pressing against you.

“I’m goin’ to move one leg up to stretch your calf,” he informed you.

You nodded, relaxing all the muscles in your legs. His right hand moved to the ankle of your left leg, extending it up inch by inch. You could feel all the muscles along the back of your leg stretch. He placed your ankle on his shoulder, keeping your leg propped up. The stretch felt euphoric along the back of your leg. An audible gasp escaped you, catching Jake’s attention.

“Feel good?” His voice had dropped a little this time.

“Yeah,” it almost came out as a whimper.

After a moment with one leg propped up, he switched to your other leg. A thin layer of sweat was already starting to form on you. It was hard to avoid with Jake being this close to you, practically folding you in half with his body. His firm muscles pressing onto your own, his weight barring down on you more and more. Not after long he released both legs, guiding them down on either side of him.

“Let’s get your back next,” he said while moving back to his own mat.

You sat up, following his movements. He got on his hands and knees, pushing his back out then letting it drop into an arch. You mimicked the movements, muscles in your back alternating between taut and loose.

“Nice, right?” Jake looked over at you, a smile on his lips.

“Yeah, never realized what all these motions stretched.” You added.

“Everything stretches something. You’d be surprised at what all sex stretches out,” his smile turned into a cheeky smirk.

“Well,” you hesitated for a moment, “I’m excited I get to find out.”

Jake showed you a few more stretches, legs primarily. Soon the two of you were sat across from each other. You were waiting patiently for what was next to come, a tinge of excitement running through you. Jake leaned back, palms flat on the floor keeping him up right. He had one leg casually stretched out, the other bent close to his body.

“We can start this two different ways. One, we start with a little bit of foreplay and massage work, or two, you take the lead and do whatever you want.”

“What do most people choose?”

Jake gave you this look, one that said ‘really?’. A shrug tugged on your shoulders, not sure why he gave you the look. He let out a noise that sounded like a chuckle mixed with a sigh.

“Are we really gonna play that game?” Jake’s look had a small amount of playful annoyance in his gaze.

“What?” Embarrassment started to creep into you, not sure about the next steps.

Jake’s words weren’t really comforting either. He was nice but there was this bite to him. A playful energy that was hard to read sometimes. You pulled both of your legs closer to you, soles of your feet planted on the floor. Again, you mimicked him.

As you were leaning back onto your palms, Jake was starting to move towards you. He got up on his knees, closing the small space between the two of your mats. It was like watching a cat play with its food. Inch by inch the gap between you closed. Your legs spread open, allowing room for him to move between them. He reached out to your jaw, cupping it while his thumb rubbed a part of your cheek. There was something playful in his green eyes. A smile covered his lips as he leaned in, lips next to your ear.

“This is about you, not anyone else,” the words were hot against your ear lobe.

Without a second thought you grabbed him, hand wrapping around the back of his neck, fingers threading up through his well trimmed hair. Soft lips melded with yours, dancing in synchronicity. A smile formed on his lips as he kissed you, slowly working you down onto your mat. Hands roamed up and down your sides, snaking down to cup your ass. His chest was pressed to yours as his hips started to slowly rock against yours.

“Does this count as a massage?” It was cheeky, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Full body if you ask me,” Jake nipped at your neck, trailing kisses down your skin.

He pulled back for a moment, hand moving from your ass to your chest. Even though your sports bra was tight, your nipples were starting to become visible through the material. A whimper left you as he started kneading your breast, thumb occasionally coming up to run over your nipple. You arched your back and relaxed, pressing your breast tightly into his hand. You heard a snicker come from Jake.

“What?”

“Most clients aren’t this pliant when they come in.” Jake said, tilting his head as a gesture towards your body.

A moan left you as he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. A smirk was plastered on his face now. You knew it wasn’t personal, but you took it personally. You hooked a leg around his waist, and put all your weight into it. A huff was all Jake let out as you flipped the two of you. You were straddling his hips now, ass pressing tightly to his crotch.

“That’s better,” Jake quipped, enjoying his view of you on top of him.

Slightly calloused hands traveled your sides, kneading your flesh every now and then. You kept rolling your hips down against his, sighing at the pressure. His dick had started to harden, becoming obvious as it pressed against your ass. As much as you wanted to just fuck, you had to remind yourself of the actual reason you were here.

“So, do I just ride you or..?” It was an honest question.

“Normally, we have a female client get off once prior to a penetrative workout. We like to make sure that they are ready to take whatever the trainer gives them.” Jake raised his eyebrows playfully at the last sentence.

Thumbs hooked into your leggings. You helped him take them off you, removing your underwear in the process too. Jake immediately noticed how wet you were, looking at the wet patch on your panties as he slipped them off you. Those calloused hands pulled you back into his lap, sitting up to meet you. Your hands gripped his shoulders, tugging at the fabric of his workout top. Fingers moved towards your cunt, finding your clit quickly.

It was obvious he did this regularly, knowing almost the exact motions to get you going. The sturdiness of his body kept you up right, his free arm wrapping around your back to keep you close. Wet kisses were littered all over your skin. The fabric of his shirt balled up in your fists. The hot breath on your skin was starting to be overstimulating. It was all so much at once. A hot trainer fingering your while leaving wet trails of saliva on your chest was not what you were completely expecting from today.

Jake changed the motion of his fingers in the slightest, making your body quiver into his. You weren’t sure exactly what he did different, but whatever it was made you feral. Your legs had started shaking, body slumping closer to his. You could feel the curve of his lips, that classic smirk appearing again. Within moments you were coming.

A whine was all you let out. You didn’t even pick up on Jake’s own heavy breathing. The arm around your back tightened, keeping you close to him. He bit back a groan as he felt you quiver against him, his fingers not stopping their motions on your clit. Your hands tugged at his shirt viciously, hips not being able to control themselves. Jake hadn’t expected you to have such an intoxicating effect on him. But he couldn’t get enough, deciding he was in fact going to fuck you himself.

“Jake!”

And with that his fingers were gone.

“Change of plans, I’m gonna fuck you.” Jake pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Jake laid your body down, sitting up for a moment to take his shirt off. You marveled at his body, reaching out to ghost your hand over his abs. He reached in his pocket and grabbed a condom. Your hand trailed down to the top of his shorts and boxers, helping him ease them down. He took them off, haphazardly tossing them somewhere off to the side.

Finally, all the puzzle pieces had snapped into place, showing you the complete picture of why he was one of the most sought after trainers. His cock was fucking gorgeous, just like the rest of him. His dick was already making your cunt yearn, wanting to feel the stretch it was going to give you. He tore the condom packet and rolled it down his length. Even though you knew it was what needed to be done, a part of you wished he could fuck you raw.

Jake’s hands grabbed your legs, placing your ankles on his shoulders, then slowly easing them out. His hands were lightly holding the outside of your thighs, holding them in a wide V shape. The head of his cock prodded your entrance, your cunt clenched with anticipation. A breathy moan left you when he pressed into you. The stretch was everything you were hoping it’d be, maybe even a little bit more.

“You feel better than I anticipated,” Jake’s words were breathy, chest rising and falling with each breath.

All you did was clench around him, watching as he closed his eyes tightly. You felt him pull out, only to push back in with a groan. A moan fell from you as he repeated the action. He found a decent rhythm, nailing into you while keeping your legs in the wide V. Your hands fumbled around your body, grabbing at your sports bra clad chest. The tight material bunched under your grasp. Your finger started to slip under the top of your sports bra, pulling it down to show your tits to Jake.

“Hold your legs still,” Jake commanded.

“Yes sir,” your words slurred with pleasure already.

Jake groaned at the name. His hands moved from your legs and up your body. Calloused hands removed yours then tugged on your sports bra. The material became tight against your skin, straps digging in until they started rolling off your shoulders. Your sports bra was holding your arms next to your body, leaving you restricted. Jake’s hands engulfed your tits as he fucked into you. You planted your hands next to your hips, pushing your tits out for Jake.

The backs and insides of your thighs were starting to burn. Jake’s thrusts were starting to make holding them up hard. Each thrust felt more powerful than the last. Once he found that sensitive spot inside of you, you whined. You tried to close your legs, both of them burning from the position you had held them in. Jake’s hands left your chest, grabbing your legs and forcing them back out into the wide V position.

“Legs out.” Jake commanded.

You hesitantly put your legs back out, holding them in place as they started to shake. With every thrust you felt a surge of pleasure. There was a burning that started to develop in your abdomen, a mixture of pleasure and tightness. You knew that a majority of the burning was because of the ‘workout’ aspect of this situation. Your legs were on fire, all while your nerves were starting to sear themselves with pleasure.

“That’s it, I know you can feel it,” Jake said, wide grin on his face.

One of his hands moved down between your legs, thumb circling your clit. Within the matter of seconds you were coming again, cunt clenched tightly around Jake. Your legs were starting to shake uncontrollably, your body becoming way too sensitive to the pleasure. Jake grabbed your legs quickly, wrapping them around his hips now as he fucked into you. He only lasted a few more thrusts before coming, filling the condom while inside of you.

Heavy breathing filled the room, both of you trying to catch your breath. Jake placed an forearm by your head, balancing himself as he looked at you. There was something soft in his eyes. He reached down and ran his thumb over your cheek. His thumb traveled further, down your neck and eventually his hand cascaded down your neck and chest. His hand stopped over your left tit. Your heart was hammering against your rib cage, Jake feeling it flutter in your chest.

Jake kissed your forehead as he pulled out. A moan leaving you at the sensation, now feeling empty inside. Your legs felt like jello, falling down from around his waist. Jake retracted from your body, stood up and moved towards the trash can in the room. You slowly and awkwardly pulled the straps of your bra up, adjusted them and sat up the best you could. Jake threw the condom away then headed back towards you.

“You good?” Jake asked.

“Yeah,” you grabbed your underwear and leggings.

The both of you got dressed before talking again.

“Sorry, about the change up for the session.” Jake slipped his shirt over his head.

“So, you’re telling me you don’t do that with all of your clients?” You joked, chuckling a little.

Jake smirked, shaking his head no.

“No, only the special clients get that treatment,” Jake held a hand out to you.

“Special? After our first session?” You accepted his hand, standing up with his assistance.

All Jake did was nod, not knowing exactly what to say. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. That soft look in his eyes had spread to the rest of his face. You gave him the same look, understanding that there was just now this unspoken thing between the two of you.

“There’s just something about you,” Jake finally said, “and I hope that the other trainers here get to experience it.”

A heat built up in you from the compliment. It was one of the most special compliments you had ever received.

“Until next time?” God, you were hoping there would be a next time.

Jake nodded with a smile.

“Until next time.”

[noxitsnox]

rivals in rhythm - ch. ii

jake sim x m!reader

tags: angst (?), bonding, use of m/n

a/n: i had to divide the chapter in two to post 😭

m.list prev next

you hoped jake would forget about the guitar lesson proposal.

but he didn't.

for a week he kept asking about it until you were forced to do it. for some reason, this afternoon jake and you were the only one at the dorm, everyone else was out for one reason or another. no excuse could've saved you, the two of you were there with nothing to do. you told yourself that even if you were going to spend so much time with jake at least you were doing something that usually brings you joy.

the biggest problem was that while you had a problem with jake, jake didn't have a problem with you. it would've been so much easier if the hatred was reciprocated. he wouldn't want to spend time with you just as much as you didn't want to spend time with him… in an utopian world you guys would live off of polite greetings and minimal interaction in front of the cameras. utopian, indeed, not real at all.

jake did not have a guitar, sadly. you gave him yours and called jay to ask him if you could take one of his. which was another thing that drove you crazy, jay too played the guitar so why did he have to ask you if you could teach him…

heeseung should've minded his business that day. he knew really well the reason why you didn't like jake and still he found a way to put you in this situation. how could you teach someone who lacked will and energy?

“well, i'm not a teacher so i don't promise you that this will be good”. you covered the situation, washing yourself out of all responsibility. jake smiled, passing a hand through his hair. "yeah, it's gonna be fun regardless.”

you put two chairs across from each other, so that he could see the way you moved your hands and replicate the movements on his own guitar. that's how you were taught and you believed it was the best way to do so. “obviously you know about music and stuff, so i'll just tell you the chords and how to go from one to the other.” he nodded eagerly and took his- your- guitar. first mistake, even the way he was simply holding it was wrong. you sighed, took a deep breath and corrected his form. there was no use in getting angry, you too used to get this stuff wrong.

promising not to let your biases take over, you started showing him the first chords. unfortunately, jake wasn't able to move his fingers.

crazy, another thing he couldn't do. double crazy, a great part of his job was about moving his body with harmony.

you corrected him a few times, but he kept doing it wrong. maybe you simply lack patience, but it was getting ridiculous. you angrily got up, you noticed his eyes widening. you were standing behind him, took his hands in yours and moved them to the right position with more violence than you originally intended. he looked dazed, unable to act accordingly to your sudden change of mood.

“sorry…”, you whispered while walking back to your chair. that single word was filled with shame and guilt. patience. you promised to heeseung you'd be patient.

“no haha it's nothing… i mean calm down but you corrected me multiple times.” “no. you're just learning, i shouldn't have reacted this way.”

jake offered you a small smile and you guys went back to the lesson.

tension was still in the air, not even the music you were playing could clear it up. even after it was done things were still a little awkward between you two.

regardless of your slip up, it was a productive afternoon. jake was almost able to play let me in by himself. you almost changed your mind about him, maybe your perceptions of him were wrong.

but as you were about to tell him a loud noise stopped you. the sharp sound of something falling to the ground. stern, decisive. a loud bang followed by heavy silence.

slowly your eyes moved from jake to the floor and finally you saw it. your guitar laying lifeless on the ground, broken in half. neck cracked, attached to the body only by those fragile six strings.

jake immediately started apologizing but you could barely listen.

“i'm so sorry! i was about to put it on its stand but i tripped and it flew off my hands… i didn't mean to break it!”

you wanted to get mad, but you couldn't. couldn't bring yourself to be mad and couldn't afford to get mad, not after the mess you did earlier. as if you chose the wrong answer in a multiple choice game and now you had to see all your progress disappear in front of you, unable to stop it.

jake's face spoke for himself. just by looking at him one could understand how mortified he was. getting angry at someone who's already about to cry is too much.

taking a deep breath you walked over to the guitar. before kneeling to pick it up, you gave him a reassuring pat on the back and a knowing look, one that said ‘i get it, we'll find a way.’

you observed the instrument in silence for a few minutes, one half then the other, the breaking point, the strings, the pegs. jake's impatient eyes on you. he wasn't talking, you could barely hear his breath.

“y'know… it's better than i thought. i'm not an expert,” you said in a whisper as your eyes met his again. “but i think i could fix it, maybe.”

“i'll pay for the repairs!” you laughed at this. you really needed him to calm down. “nah, you don't have to.” jake didn't look convinced, shame still coloring his face as he bit his lip.

“look on the bright side, at least the guitar is mine and not jay's and i was there when it broke, which makes everything easier mh?”

---

“he broke my guitar! i don't understand why i was the one comforting him. and the way he acted today?! he barely acknowledged my presence.”

everyone noticed the growing tension between jake and you. jungwon as you were getting ready to leave the practice room told you that yes, there's always tension between you two but that today it was more annoying than usual. and, of course, heeseung walked to you with a raised eyebrow and asked you to tell him how the previous afternoon had gone.

“if i, the person who's instrument has been broken by you, didn't make a big deal out of it, why are you doing it?”

heeseung sighed, tired of going on about the same stuff over and over again.

“put yourself in his shoes, he'll be drowning in guilt right now and you're not exactly helping either…”

“how? i didn't yell, i didn't do anything. i even patted his back!”

heeseung chuckled, “m/n, i know you, you don't need to yell to show your anger- see! this is what i'm talking about… look at those eyes.”

you sighed dramatically, but a slight smile appeared on your face. “so? what do you think i should do?”

“have you tried talking with him?” “don't make me laugh, c'mon. also why can't he come talk to me? again, he's the one that broke the guitar, not me.”

your best friend put both his hands and your shoulders looking you in the eyes. “in all seriousness, you've been hating on him for ages and this is the first time he gave you a legitimate reason to be upset. in almost five years this is the first time jake did something that justifies your hatred. you have to be the one starting this peace.”

you nodded. it was annoying when heeseung was so right you had nothing to say back. “yeah, i guess…”

@exactlyinfp @rairaiblog @nootnootpinguuu

[technofeudalism]

every reddit community is being flooded right now with posts about how amazing Joe Biden is and how he is the greatest President in American history and how "he's still got it."

normally, i'd find this kind of odd. because the tone has been drastically different everywhere else since the election loss. but then i found out why there's a sudden explosion of pro-Biden content.

During the 2020 presidential primary, Jill Biden campaigned so extensively across Iowa that she held events in more counties than her husband—a fact her press secretary at the time, Michael LaRosa, touted to a local reporter. His superior in the Biden campaign quickly chided him. As the three rode in a minivan through the state’s cornfields, Anthony Bernal, then a deputy campaign manager and chief of staff to Jill Biden, pressed LaRosa to contact the reporter again and play down any comparison in campaign appearances between Joe Biden, then 77, and his wife, who is eight years his junior. Her energetic schedule only highlighted her husband’s more plodding pace, LaRosa recalls being told. The message from Biden’s team was clear. “The more you talk her up, the more you make him look bad,” LaRosa said. The small correction foreshadowed how Biden’s closest aides and advisers would manage the limitations of the oldest president in U.S. history during his four years in office. To adapt the White House around the needs of a diminished leader, they told visitors to keep meetings focused. Interactions with senior Democratic lawmakers and some cabinet members—including powerful secretaries such as Defense’s Lloyd Austin and Treasury’s Janet Yellen—were infrequent or grew less frequent. Some legislative leaders had a hard time getting the president’s ear at key moments, including ahead of the U.S.’s disastrous pullout from Afghanistan. Senior advisers were often put into roles that some administration officials and lawmakers thought Biden should occupy, with people such as National Security Adviser Jake Sullivan, senior counselor Steve Ricchetti and National Economic Council head Lael Brainard and her predecessor frequently in the position of being go-betweens for the president.  Press aides who compiled packages of news clips for Biden were told by senior staff to exclude negative stories about the president. The president wasn’t talking to his own pollsters as surveys showed him trailing in the 2024 race. 

so it turns out that, after the last year and a half of leftists saying "hey, isn't this guy really fucking old and kind of dying?" and being completely shit on, told to shut the fuck up, sit down and know our place... the guy was indeed dying behind the scenes.

and now, because this story is gaining attention in the mainstream media (CNN ran a segment earlier), reddit has full tilt re-engaged the Biden propaganda machine in order to "preserve his legacy."

throughout the entirety of the Biden presidency, and even before the 2020 election, Biden's cabinet, advisors, spokespersons, campaign staff, etc., abdicated their duty. their lust to remain in power, retain influence and secure gainful future employment in Washington along with their contempt for the average human being (including Palestinians) has effectively doomed us to 4+ years of Republican rule. now, they will go onto lobbying in the private sector and cash in on years of clout accumulated through being a dutiful stooge.

target your anger appropriately. stop blaming the voters. the Democratic party has never and will never care about you or anyone in this country other than their corporate owners.

[avatarl0v3r]

The Lost Clan - Chapter 2

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Navigation

Warnings: none

Pairings: neteyam x fem!sarentu reader

Notes: so no one is confused the war was short but the sarentu stayed "hidden" they just kept wandering for years, until the reader is about 18years old and they come out of hiding by going to the zeswa first.

all the navi clans had come to the conclusion that the rda desecrated the whole sarentu clan no one knew were they went they just disappeared off the maps. they search for their sister clan after the war only finding their camp destroyed, still having hope they continued their search but to no avail no one could find a trace.

a few years later...

your clan flew upon the backs of ikrans towards the upper plains as you got to the outskirts of their camp a warrior sounded the horn and the zeswa stopped what they were doing and walked towards the front of the camp. you watched with a smile on your face seeing the plains again, the direhorses, the sounds it was different you had temek land next to your fathers ikran before dismounting her.

the cheif of the zeswa stepped forward "brother, the sarentu have returned to share our stories" you father said with a large smile plastered on his face the zeswa made sounds of cheer "welcome home brother."

that night we sat near the fire having a feast because of your peoples return, you shared stories, memories with all these people that night was filled with many happy memories and even a bead was added to everyone's songcord a bead for the return of the sarentu.

--

you sat by the river watching as it moved never stopping even if it was only for a moment. the celebration being heard within limits behind you before you heard footsteps approaching you "what is bothering you, my dewdrop?" the sound of that nickname made you smile your father has always called you that "just thinking," he sat down next to you waiting for you to continue "about how much we've missed these pasted years, and how much pandora has changed."

your father smiled gently at you before giving you a hug "we sarentu are connected to the people, and to eywa, although it may seem like we've missed a lot we truly haven't, we are just like a river constantly in motion no matter. what lands in our path"

--

a week later your clan was on the move again and word travels fast but as do rumors, and these soon reached the ears of the omatikaya people.

it was dusk and neteyam was doing his best to help out around the new home tree with chores and traing to become the new clan leader and overheard two girls talking about these rumors "excuse me what did you say?" he asked the two girls "people are saying the sarentu have returned and are sharing their stories and songs once again, can you believe that is sounds almost to good to be true, the rda eliminated all of them didn't they?"

neteyam had already tuned the girls out his mind already clouded with memories of you both together how you to had become close in such short time, would he remember what you looked like, would you remember him, his mind was racing he was excited and scared. after he saw you and your sister in your father's arms and the rda soldier right behind he thought the worst, his assumptions were deemed correct when the hunting party came back saying the sarentu came was destroyed along with no sign of you and your people.

as he walked into his family's shared hut he heard his mother's gasp as jake told her the news that the sarentu had indeed returned "ma jake do you think this could be true?" he stood there for a minute thinking "possibly they could have ran off and hid from the rda and kept moving, but that'd be hard to do considering its the rda." jake said to neytiri.

neytiri went back to making her paste for the hunters wounds, jake went back to cleaning his gun, for a mission they had soon. neteyam stood there messing with his fruit as loak and spider we're doing dumb stuff.

after the conversation jake had with neytiri they stopped speaking both wondering if it was true or just a rumor, it seemed more likely the rda killed the whole clan that would make the most sense "jake-" neytiri was cut off at the sound of the horn being sounded by the warrior who was keeping watch.

copyright © 2023 avatarl0v3r - on tumblr. do not translate/ remake/repost my works in any platform without authorized permission.

[melljam]

it’s unhinged long post time again! and this one’s about gitae kim >:)

so its assumed that gitae holds some form of resentment over his absent father, gap … (since he did vaguely murder him with james after all)

… but there seems to be some subtle hints that gitae might have also idolized gapryong kim

-> first up: gitae’s pipe being engraved with gapryong kim’s name in chinese (金甲龍) 「link to my post that goes more in-depth about gap’s chinese name」

as i mentioned in the linked post, it seems like that smoking pipe belonged to gap in the past and gitae somehow got ahold of it

so why would gitae keep a piece of memorabilia that belonged to his absent father if he only held resentment for the man? it might have some sentimental value for him, especially since he chose to bring it back to korea with him.

perhaps the motive behind gitae’s possession and usage of gap’s pipe could be comparable to jake deciding to don gap’s gloves

the two of them both hold resentment for gap as a father, while also selectively admiring and emulating aspects of him as a gangsters

-> secondly, on the topic of emulating gap …

jake seems to unwillingly (or subconsciously) follow in his father’s footsteps through his passion for protecting people (which is the symbolic reason he wears gap’s gloves), but he also inherited gap’s moral compass. jake dislikes unfairness or ‘cheating’, just like how gap could never “ignore any kind of injustice.”

also the way that gap is mentioned to never be able to pass by someone in need, while jake constantly gets involved in other people’s business for the sake of helping them (showing up to save victims in 3a and his entire dynamic with xiaolung lol)

by all means, minseon was correct (ofc she is <3), and jake takes after gapryong kim’s ‘good side’

and in the same vein, following in minseon’s words, gitae takes after gapryong kim’s evil side.

he’s selfish, he’s power-hungry, and he has the raw strength to do (or get) what he wants

all of which are also traits belonging to gap, shown through his cheating, his (failed) political campaign, and his strength making him the ‘legend of the pre-generation’

no one truly aspires to be any of the first two traits listed, but what about the third?

to be a legend, in terms of strength (which is very, very important as a gangism lookism character whose ability to succeed is correlated in their ability to fight …)

wouldn’t that certainly be appealing to a selfish, power-hungry man?

and it seems that it indeed was very appealing to gitae, since jinyoung alludes to gap failing to mimic gap’s fighting style in the past

-> “no matter how hard you try, you’ll never be gapryong kim.”

perhaps this was just a one-off comment about gitae attempting to mimic gap’s fists, but it could be indicative of another facet of gitae’s admiration for his father

gitae might have admired the idea of his father being gapryong kim, korea’s strongest gangster, to the point of idolization (which sounds a lot like a certain someone samuel hahah … )

if so, then he might have become obsessed with following in his father’s footsteps and attaining power as a gangster, especially if he lived in poverty as an abandoned child (just like samuel)

perhaps, in a similar manner to samuel, gitae might have grown up viewing himself as needing to be worthy of being gapryong kim’s son, needing to live up to his father’s name.

but is ptj really going to rehash the same backstory for gitae? there’s a possibility, but ultimately, i don’t think so. gitae seems like he’s driven by something different to samuel, something a little less insecure hahah :)

gitae may have found himself obsessed over another aspect of gapryong kim, something distinct from the validation that samuel craved, something like:

-> the identity of gapryong kim

the legend of the pre-generation, korea’s strongest gangster, an all-around powerful man

someone to admire, someone to idolize (only for these guys that is, jake is right in hating gap lol)

what gitae wanted was to be ‘gapryong kim’.

maybe not in a literal sense, but rather to have the power as a gangster that gap held during his heyday, to be a legend in his own right

gitae wanted to lead the life of glory that gapryong kim did, but might have felt ultimately limited by only being an illegitimate son of his

admiration, idolization, and obsession

gitae could have been obsessed with everything that gapryong kim represented, and the tortuously resentful ache of being unable to claim legitimacy to gapryong kim’s name might have driven gitae to commit his ‘ultimate sin’

perhaps gitae figured that the only way to ‘get what he wanted�� out of his life as an unwanted son was to murder his father and idol, gapryong kim, and thus allow himself to create his own legacy, one that eerily mirrors that of his deceased father, gapryong kim

-> additionally, as stated by minseon, gitae went to mexico because he ‘got what he wanted’

it’s very interesting that gitae went to mexico (since lookism takes place in south korea lol), and i think the reason that gitae decided to start a gang in mexico is an extension of his character motivation of power

gitae might have wanted to leave south korea because he was unable to attain the power that he wanted there, to build a legacy separate from gapryong kim’s, but very similar in nature

immediately after gapryong kim thwarted the ‘great threat’ that south korea faced in the past, he went into politics because he realized that was the only way for him to gain true power in korea

gitae didn’t want to follow in the path of the disgraceful politician gapryong kim, but rather the powerful gang leader gapryong kim

in mexico, the magnitude of the crimes, the underground businesses, and the authority that gangs have all fit someone like gitae better, someone who craves greater power and control

-> and to tie it back to the beginning of this post, gitae’s bitter obsession with gapryong kim might be why he keeps his pipe, or why he values that coat so much (since it likely belonged to gapryong in the past)

it’s a little morbid, especially if gitae gained access to gapryong kim’s belongings during or as a result of his murder, but gitae seems to cherish his father in his very own, twisted way

(gitae’s line about the coat being worth a life takes on a whole new meaning if he took it after murdering gap lol)

also, is it just a coincidence that gitae is currently dressed in a similar fashion to gap in his prime?

slicked back hair, black pants, a red shirt, and a black coat (possibly the same coat?)

anyway, thanks for reading my insufferable ramblings !!!

very excited to see what ptj has in store for gitae’s character now that he’s finally back :3

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 17

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 3.1k

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 16 | Series Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 17

A knock on your office door drew your attention, and you looked up from the computer to see Payback standing there. “Hey!”

“Hi,” he said. “Coyote and I are going to the food court in twenty. Did you want to go?” 

“I’ve already got lunch plans with my team. Sorry.”

“No problem, just wanted to check. You feeling okay today?” Smiling, you pushed back from your desk and touched your stomach.

“Pretty good. Tired, but good. You?”

“Same. Ready for the weekend. Got a date lined up.” 

“Oooh, really?” you smirked. He grinned and told you about the woman he was meeting up with for coffee. You couldn’t help but think back to that fateful day Jake had crashed your coffee date. After a few minutes, he glanced at his phone and grimaced.

“Coyote’s ready. Sure you don’t want me to pick anything up for you?” When you declined, he nodded. “Alright. Oh, and Bob wanted me to tell you that he’s going to stop by tonight to mow the lawn.” 

“What?” you frowned. “He doesn’t need to do that.” In all honesty, the yard did need to be addressed. Jake had mowed it shortly before he left, but it was getting out of control. You told yourself that you’d take care of it every weekend but never got around to it. 

“We got a schedule set up, and Bob’s up first. Said he’d be by after work.” 

“Reuben,” you sighed before pressing your lips together as tears sprang to your eyes. “You don’t - ”

“Nope,” he cut you off. “Just expect one of us every other week. We should have already done it.” Sighing, you pushed out of your chair and crossed the office, throwing your arms around him. 

“You guys are the best.”

“Just looking out for our own,” he shrugged, squeezing you tightly. 

Bob indeed showed up after work and borrowed Jake’s keys to move the truck from the garage and retrieve the lawnmower. While he zigzagged across the yard before making his way into the back of the house, you ordered pizza. It took only the slightest bit of arm twisting to get him to accept the thank you dinner, but he eventually yielded.

It wasn’t until you were walking back to the truck later that weekend after a trip to the grocery store that you noticed the yellow sticker on the back window.

Baby on Board. 

“This is my favorite thing ever.”

“Ever?” Jake smirked.

“Ever,” you sighed, wiggling to get more comfortable and closing your eyes in contentment. “It’s never leaving our bed. You’ll have to bury me with it.” Chuckling, your husband rolled his eyes fondly at the sight of you cuddling your pregnancy pillow.  

“Not gonna leave a lot of room for me with that thing.” Lazily, you waved your hand.

“You can sleep in the guest bedroom.” At that, he laughed as you tried to suppress a smile, opening one eye to see his grin. 

“I see how it is - I’m gone for six weeks, and you’re already moving me out permanently.” 

“It’s not the you being gone that’s getting you kicked out - it’s the you doing this,” you correct, placing a hand on your stomach. At twenty weeks, you were undoubtedly feeling less comfortable. After cruising some parenting boards and talking to your coworkers, they’d suggested getting a pillow to support you while you slept and to get it so you were used to it when it would be harder to get out of bed. So, after some research, you’d splurged on a huge U-shaped pillow. In addition to helping the bed feel less empty, having something curled around you was comforting - with the added benefit of helping with your ligament pain and heartburn.

“That was both of us,” Jake replied. His expression softened, and he let out a sigh. “It sucks that they rescheduled your appointment.” 

Pressing your face into the pillow, you shrugged. “I know, but only two more weeks until we find out if we’re having an Oliver or Sloane.” 

“And your mom wasn’t able to change her ticket?”

“No,” you sighed. “But it’s fine. We’ll work on the nursery or something.” Once you’d told your mother the date of the scheduled anatomy scan, she quickly booked a plane ticket to be by your side. 

“You shouldn’t be alone for that,” she’d said, brushing off your weak attempt to talk her out of it. “Dad would come too but he’s going to be in Huntsville that week covering for another shop.” He sometimes went to other sites as a contractor to help with coverage and staffing shortages. Mom had let slip that he turned down a trip to England to make sure he was stateside when you gave birth. 

“What’s wrong with the nursery?” Jake asked. He’d set up the crib and changing table before he left, and you’d turned down his offer to paint. 

“Nothing, just want to get it cleaned up and organized. It’s become a catch-all for everything, and Mom wants to go shopping, so I have a feeling that we’ll be getting a lot more stuff.” It was his turn to groan as he scrubbed a hand down his face.

“Tell her she doesn’t need to do that.”

“Oh, I’ve tried. But you try talking her out of it,” you scoffed before adopting a mocking tone. “‘Oh, it’s my first grandbaby! I’m allowed to spoil them!’” He chuckled, and you sat up, raising an eyebrow at the laptop camera. “Speaking of - Lina called me.” 

A weary look crossed Jake’s face at the mention of his sister. “Yeah? What’d she want?” 

“Apparently, your mother isn’t happy about the lack of updates she’s getting about the baby. I’ve gotten a request to send her an updated picture every week.” 

“Damn it,” he grumbled. He’d finally gotten around to calling his parents the weekend before. His mom had pestered him for information about the pregnancy, and he’d sent her a few pictures you’d shared to keep her happy. Now, it seemed like she was ready to push in more, especially if she was enlisting Lina. “No. If you don’t want to, don’t do it.”

“I don’t know. I don’t… I mean, my parents aren’t getting a picture every week, but I talk to them all the time so they know what’s going on. I have your mom’s number so I can text her an update every once in a while. But they’re your family, what do you think?”

While he knew that his mother wanted to be involved, the idea of having you be the one in contact with her made Jake anxious. The last thing he wanted was for you to be more stressed because of his family, especially when he wasn’t there to step in. “Lemme…lemme think about it,” he said after a long moment. 

“Okay,” you replied, giving him a soft smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’. I’ve gotta get back to work in a minute, so let me talk to the baby.” Heaving an exaggerated sigh, you lifted the arm of the pregnancy pillow and slid across the bed. Propped against the pillows, you set the laptop on your legs and angled the screen so your stomach was the central picture. Jake grinned at the sight. “Hey, Sloane - ”

“Oliver.”

“Sloane. I love you, baby girl. I can’t wait to see the new pictures of you soon. Keep bein’ nice to Mama.” 

“Your daddy’s going to call you Sloane for a little longer, Ollie,” you chuckled, placing a hand on your stomach. “I promise, Mama’s gonna make him eat his words for being wrong about you.” 

“Daddy’s gonna try not to rub it in Mama’s face when he’s right.”

“Good thing we’re not going to have to put that to the test since you aren’t going to be right.”

“I’m sorry,” he smirked, “I’m trying to have a conversation with my daughter.” 

“Whatever. We’ll know soon enough just how wrong you are.”

“More like how wrong you are, darlin’.” 

“Wanna bet?” you challenged, tilting the screen so you could see one another better. 

“What are the terms?”

“If he’s a boy, I want…” your gaze drifted to the side of the bed as you chewed your lip. Aware that he was in a public place again, even with headphones on, you wanted to be coy. “I want to use my favorite thing on you three times, whenever I choose. Wrists and ankles.” 

Heat flared in Jake’s gaze, and you squirmed, thighs pressing together at the memory of him held down by the restraints tucked under the mattress. He lifted his hand slowly and ran his thumb along his lower lip before licking it. After clearing his throat, he nodded. “Since I know I’m right, I’ll accept that. And I want a video when I’m right.” 

“A video?”

“With the present I sent you.” His voice was low and rough with barely restrained lust. It was your turn to blush. When you came home from work on Monday, there’d been a box on the front porch. Inside was a vibrator with clit suction, with a note from your husband saying it would have to do until he got home. You thoroughly enjoyed your gift once it was charged and you found a battery for the small remote. It may have been a bit unkind to send him a picture of you after using it, a blissful expression on your face after months of subpar orgasms, as a thank you. 

“Deal.”

“Hangman - mail!” Fritz said, shoving a cardboard envelope into his chest as they stood on the flight deck for the steel beach picnic. Jake quickly clapped a hand on the envelope, nearly dumping his plate with his burger and potato salad. 

“Thanks,” he grumbled, shifting the envelope under his arm and moving through the line. After grabbing a beer from the giant cistern, he made his way to where Mav and Rooster were sitting on the railing between the cornhole station and where some of the officers were hitting golf balls off the ship. The other pilots they’d been training with milled about, chatting and sipping their drinks. After two months at sea, the higher ups had chosen to throw a morale day for the carrier, knowing that they would soon be drilling down for the war games. 

“What’s that?” Mav asked, spying the package tucked under his arm as Jake set his drink and plate beside him. 

“No idea. Wasn’t expecting anything,” he shrugged. At the sight of your name on the return address, he frowned. 

“Divorce papers?” Rooster teased, and quickly jerked his leg out of the way when Mav moved as though to kick him. “Kidding, kidding. Damn.” Shaking his head, Jake tore open the tab and glanced inside to see a white envelope.

DO NOT OPEN BEFORE CALLING ME was written across the front of it, and when he flipped it over, he saw more writing across the seam. I DON’T CARE WHAT TIME IT IS, CALL ME ASAP

Glancing at his watch, he quickly did the time conversion - Saturday at 1:25PM for him would be just about 8:30PM Friday night at home. He’d already been planning on giving you a call as soon as he was done eating, so the cell was in his pocket. When he turned it on, he could see that the wifi extended onto the deck. “Be right back,” he said, stepping away from the two men and lifting the phone to call you.

You answered on the second ring. “Hey!”

“Hey, darlin’. Just got the letter you sent that I’m not allowed to open without calling you. Everything okay?”

“Oh my god!” you squealed. “Finally!” He could hear people in the background and smirked.

“Where are you?”

“Javy’s - I told you he was having us all over tonight.” 

“That’s right, I forgot. So, can I open this letter?”

“Wait, I need to see you open it. Can you do a video call?” 

“It’s, uh, a little loud on the flight deck, but I can manage it.”

“Okay. Is there someone there who can hold the phone for you?” 

“Darlin’, what’s in the letter?” Jake asked, turning back to Mav and Rooster. Rather than answer, he heard the phone beep and pulled it away to see that you’d started a video call. He quickly answered, grinning at your flushed face. “Hey, Mama.”

“Hey,” you beamed. 

“Hangman!” Coyote yelled, throwing his arm around you and waving. “Long time no see, man. How’s deployment?”

“Later, Javy,” you said, quickly brushing off the other man. “I love you, but I promise you, this is more important.” The aviator held up his hands and chuckled, and Jake could see his friends in the background - Bob, Phoenix, and Payback were lounging on the couch. 

“Why’s this envelope so important?” Jake asked, holding it up. Your eyes widened and you took a deep breath.

“So I wasn’t exactly honest with you a couple weeks ago. The anatomy scan wasn’t rescheduled - Mom and I went to the appointment on the original date.” 

Jake felt his heart stop as his eyebrows shot up. “Y-you went to the anatomy scan already? It’s not this week?”

“I had Mom record the whole appointment, and I promise you that I will send it to you as soon as we’re off this call,” you said quickly.

“So you know what we’re having?”

“No,” you grinned. “I have no idea and it’s been killing me for the last two weeks. I had Amanda put the ultrasound pictures and the gender in that envelope instead of telling me. We went right from the doctor’s office to the post office to mail that because I wasn’t going to be able to keep myself from looking at it.” Words failed him as came to a stop in front of his friends, mouth hanging open. As the silence dragged on, your smile began to falter. “Baby, are you mad? I thought - ”

“You’re letting me find out the gender first?” he finally asked.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Jake heard someone shout in the background, and you whipped around to see Phoenix standing, arms thrown out to hush the other men. “Are you finding out if you’re having a boy or a girl right now?” 

“What?” Rooster demanded, perking up at the sound of his best friend’s voice. Jake watched as you turned back to the camera and smiled shyly.

“Why does this feel like an impromptu gender reveal party?” 

“Sure seems like it is,” he grinned. “Mama, you seriously don’t know what we’re having?”

“I seriously don’t know. I closed my eyes when Amanda was doing that part of the scan.” 

“I fucking love you, darlin’. You okay with lettin’ these assholes listen in?”

“I am if you are.”

“He is,” Payback quickly answered, stepping up behind you. 

“Here, I’ll hold the phone so you can open it,” Mav offered, standing and holding out his hand. Jake met the man’s gaze and grinned, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. 

“Gonna give the phone to Mav real quick. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’m going to record this so we can send it to our parents. Now hurry up!” The older man greeted you when he was handed the phone and quickly flipped the camera, giving the young father a thumbs up when he was in frame.

“Ready when you are, Hangman.”

Taking a deep breath, Jake stared at the camera and grinned. “Alright, here we go.” The envelope tore easily in his hand, and he quickly unfurled the ultrasound pictures. He drank in the newest images of his baby, seeing their little fingers and nose. 

When he reached the last picture, he felt tears pricking his eyes as his heart soared. Unable to stop himself, he threw his arms up in the air and crowed, pumping his fist as he took a few steps away from the group. He knew he was drawing attention but couldn’t care. He could hear Rooster and Mav laughing as he turned on his heel and quickly made his way back, grabbing the phone.

Jake watched as you laughed and wiped tears from your eyes. As soon as the camera flipped so he was in frame, you spoke at the same time.

“We’re having a girl!”

“It’s a girl!”

He was vaguely aware of getting slapped on the back, and his friends laughing behind you, but Jake only had eyes for you. “Mama, we’re having a little girl.”

“Sloane Elizabeth,” you said through tears, placing a hand on your stomach and pressing against your daughter. “I guess you were right.”

“I told you aviators have daughters,” he beamed. “Wish I was there with you, darlin’.”

“Me too, babe.”

“Thank you, for letting me do that. I…” Emotion clogged his throat and he swallowed hard. 

“I know, Jake. But we both know you’d be here if you could.” 

“We’re a third of the way done, darlin’.”

“Two down, four to go.” 

True to your word, you sent Jake the video of the appointment as soon as you hung up. He smiled, beer bottle dangling from his fingers, and watched as Amanda the ultrasound tech pressed the probe against your stomach and pointed out Sloane’s features. He had to wipe away tears when he heard his daughter’s heartbeat.

And, just like you’d said, when it came time to find out the gender, you’d thrown an arm over your eyes to keep from peeking. 

Don’t forget our bet, Mrs. Seresin, he texted a few hours later when lying in his berth after watching the video for the fourth time. The ultrasound pictures were carefully folded and resting beside him. He’d already picked out the one he’d be putting up in his jet, right next to the picture of him carrying you across the front yard after the wedding, his hat perched on your head as you kissed him. 

A few minutes later, his phone vibrated with your response. A bet’s a bet, Tex. Any requests?

Want you in my service dress jacket

Blue or white?

Surprise me

Yes, sir 🫡 

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

Author's Note: They're having a girl! That was what the poll I put out about a month ago landed on, and I'm happy to say that it was in line with the original idea. The image of Jake finding out that he was going to have a daughter while on the carrier was actually the first thing that made me want to write this fic.

I also really love Bob putting the Baby on Board sign on Jake's truck. Wonder how long it'll take him to notice it when he gets back 🤔

Read Chapter 18

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem; @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle; @hardballoonlove; @maeleeme; @emma8895eb; @xoxabs88xox; @queenslandlover-93; @memoriesat30; @queerqueenlynn; @capswife

[eveningspirit]

We got skills, baby!

I think this was my favorite episode to date. Almost all characters had nice moments and writing feels solid across the board. Save for Santos, that is.

I can't decide if she's just that kind of "person", or if writing for her is weak, but she feels so one-dimensional. I thought I would like her, because characters who seem unlikeable tug at my heartstrings. They must have some redeeming qualities, though, meanwhile she's... just mean. And self-important. Idek. Judgment is still out, but if they don't make some sort of plot twist with her very soon, I'm gonna go with "bad writing".

Mel was awesome helping Whitaker with his blister guy. Self assured and upbeat. She knew what she was doing, kept her cool, stayed on top of things and did it all with such an air of someone who's right where they belong. Loved it! And I love her.

With the old lady, and especially her caregiver daughter, she came off too stiff, though, and technical. But I guess, when it comes to emotional connection with patients, she's not going to excell.

The way, say, McKay does. The way she approached her patient, sharing just enough of her own life story to get that woman to open up -- that was amazing. McKay is growing on me with each episode. Indeed, like Langdon said "Cassie, she's great". Even her putting Victoria in her place felt right. A bit raw and pain-filled, but she course corrected, because, well, Victoria is still learning. And she has a lot to learn -- mostly things she won't find in books.

Speaking of doctors connecting with patients, Dr. Mohan was her usual caring self and it's so heartwarming. Btw, the wives were wonderful too. It's rare to see someone suffering the way Joyce is with sickle cell, and at the same time having a good life, being loved, having everything to live and fight for. No, her illness doesn't define her. She's a "mom" to a "bougie bitch", she loves Ondine. Their story is one I'm most interested in among the patients, and I hope we see her improving by the end of the shift.

The interaction between Dr. Collins and Dr. Mohan was pretty great too. And here's where I can confidently say that writing for this show is very good (and that's why I'm still rooting for character development of Dr. Santos). The way Collins apologized, and told Mohan to "never change" and "you do you, Dr. Mohan" -- that was true character growth. And we've known those characters for six hours! We never witnessed their animosities, or Collins giving Mohan that nickname "Slow-Mo". Nevertheless, that scene had impact.

Finally, I would be remiss if I didn't mention Langdon. Each scene where he and YoYo (Dr. Garcia) argue and bicker brightens my day. As did the one in this episode, when he finally didn't let her "crice" and instead McGyvered intubation with Dr. Robby's help. I'm a sucker for his entusiasm and joy he gets from his work.

I loved his scenes with Robby's son Jake, too. They had such a big brother / little brother vibe. Or two twelve-year-olds fooling around, lol. That warm welcome and their whole interaction made me wonder how long had Langdon known Robby. Because it certainly doesn't feel like four years of residency. There's more history there (no, not that kind, eeeeww)

Yeah, I think that's all I wanted to say about this episode. Looking forward to the next one. :)

[blackkatmagic]

Hi! I was very happy to see the new labyrinths chapter. It was the first fic of yours i read and is really special to me bc of that. I see so many people commenting that you were their introduction to Moon Knight, but he was my introduction to Kat, and I will always be grateful to him for that <3

I'm also having feelings about Stevens surprise at being recognized by Bruce. I swear there are times in the comics then like 5 different people live in his house that all call him by a different name in the space of a minute, and none of them ever question this

Aww, that means a lot to me to know that!! I'm really glad my silly crossover could sweep you to my shores, that's so cool honestly. ❤️

And yeah, I've been doing a (slow) reread of the comics, and the sheer number of times Mar/Steven/Jake have to correct people about who they are is wild. Marlene especially, which. oof. I was making up a post about it, but tbh there were just too many examples to include from a single run. So having Bruce actually use his brain and apply critical investigative skills i.e. his eyes is a low bar, but he has indeed cleared it! Progress!

[bcacstuff]

Actually it does. Jake, Ashley, lots of people have trump at the top of their list, even friends of mine, who then realised and unfollowed. It’s because it’s technically a new acc yet keeps the followers so pops up as a new follow. Sam has already unfollowed from what I’ve seen.

Correct! I was just (waking up... sanitary stop) curious myself... indeed he unfollowed immediately

Well then....

Edit, even more curious... checking the analytics:

Interesting... 🤔

[tgmsunmontue]

From the top 3/6

IceMav, (eventual) Explicit, (background Hangster who are already established). Set post-TGM. (No dead Ice obviously).

Featuring not-mistaken identities (where they (Ice and Mav) pretend to be in the dark for REASONS), Ice is Jake's Uncle Tom, Mav is Bradley's Dad, everyone knows everyone, (un)requited love, coming out as an older person, and a little bit of a circus-vibe where Ice has a horrible realization that this is indeed his circus and these are also his monkeys.

An AU where Mav married Carole and adopted Bradley to make things easier legally. A USNA Bradley who has been very careful to separate Dad/Pete from godfather/Maverick. They had an argument prior to TGM, but it was around Maverick being careless with his life (RE: Darkstar because Bradley got the call that Maverick was missing, presumed dead). So it was about risk taking and thinking while flying, so that was happening and Bradley admits to the Dagger Squadron that Maverick is his godfather and they have a ‘complicated relationship’ which isn’t a lie per se, however it’s… complicated.

CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

                Pete is pretty sure he’s chatting with Ice. Tom. He chats the same way he types, all correct with capital letters and punctuation in the right place. Pete does as well of course, but it’s too much of a coincidence that Bradley installed Grindr on his phone and Tom’s cousin’s kid installed it on his phone. And now they’re chatting anonymously. Except Pete is pretty sure he knows exactly who is on the other side. He’s just asked what his biggest secret is, not sure what he’s expecting as an answer because he’s pretty sure he knows all of Ice’s secrets.

>>I’m in love with my best friend.

>>Have been for a long time.

                Pete stares at the words and just… cannot fathom what to say.

                Is Ice in love with Slider?

                Or someone else?

                Before now he’d have thought he was Ice’s best friend.

                Surely Ice doesn’t mean him though.

                Does he?

                He lets the realization that Ice may in fact be talking about him wash over him and Pete can’t help the little flare of hope. He’d never thought that maybe he and Ice could be more than friends. He’d definitely fantasized about it in his quietest and saddest moments, when he’d felt lonely and thought about coming home to him. His friendship has always been enough to sustain him.

                Before.

                Before he’d known that there might even be the slimmest chance. Now though? Well, other than the fact that Ice hadn’t trusted him stings a little, but also he understands, it’s not like he was shouting it from the roof tops. He’d just assumed Ice had known. His fault.

>>I recently found out that my best friend is gay.

                He stares at the message and wonders what Tom will say back. Wonders whether he should maybe ring Slider and do some digging.

>>Oh.

>>Really?

>>Yep.

>>He’s been unattainable the whole time I’ve known him, and I’ve cherished his friendship, thinking that was all I could ever have.

>>I had placed him very firmly in a box marked DO NOT TOUCH.

>>Fascinating.

>>And now?

>>Now I want to sweep him off his feet.

>>Do you think he’ll appreciate that?

                Pete grins to himself and taps out his answer.

>>I’m not going to give him much choice in the matter.

…            …            …

                Tom stares at the words and snorts in amusement, but the slow bubbling excitement is fizzing through his blood as he considers the implications that Mav is going to woo him. He’s never been wooed before, and casting his mind back Maverick is not subtle when it comes to affairs of the heart. Stolen planes and public serenades are definitely his speed. He’s not sure if he’s quite ready to be the recipient of such gestures, but if it’s the choice between having Maverick or not having Maverick he knows what his decision is.

>>So, while I know my kid hoped that I was going to maybe dip my toes in the dating pool with you, I’m going to have to let you down gently…

                Tom frowns, because surely Pete knows it’s him he’s talking to, unless he’s trying to give Tom an out?

>>Well, as I said. In love with my best friend and I’m in no rush to get over him.

>>I wish you luck in wooing your best friend.

>>Thanks. I think I’m going to need it.

>>I doubt that very much.

>>How about you try asking your best friend out?

>>Report back to me?

                Tom rolls his eyes, even without the social clues and seeing Mav in front of him he can tell Mav is teasing and part of him wants to call him on it but he also likes this flimsy excuse of pretending they aren’t going to… do what exactly? Try a couple of dates? Hell. They already do that when Mav is in town.

                Oh.

                Oh no.

                He’s going to have to try and be romantic back.

…            …            …

                It’s their standing weekly dinner when they’re both in the same area.

                Nothing special about it.

                He’d received a message from Ice asking if he was still coming over, he’d answered in the affirmative and then he’s had a little freakout that he was having dinner with Ice. He’d talked himself down, because he’s had so many dinners with Ice he’s lost count. But this is different. It’s a dinner date with Ice. He takes extra care getting ready, has to drive his car rather than his bike, because he’d like the flowers he bought to arrive intact rather than a mash of petals barely holding together.

                He knows he judged right when Ice answers the door. That’s the first difference, because he’s clearly been waiting for Pete to arrive rather than letting him simply push open the door or use the key Ice gave him when he moved in. Huh. He should have maybe considered that action more closely at the time. Secondly, Ice is wearing nicer clothes than usual. So is he of course, but in the dark fabric Ice's legs look even longer than he knows they are.

                “Hey Pete.”

                “Hey. Something smells good.”

                “Thanks.”

                He always compliments Ice on his cooking, but this is the first time he sees or notices the slight blush his comment causes. Fuck. Has he really been this clueless all these years? Then he realizes that Ice is looking at the flowers in his hands. Sunflowers. Because Ice has opinions regarding flowers. Roses are too pedestrian, lilies remind him of funerals, but sunflowers... Those make him smile. Whether a single one or a large bouquet, they never fail to bring a smile to his face and right now is no exception, although it’s a little shy and seeing Ice look so soft makes him want to wrap him up and hold him tight. His heart does a little stutter at the idea that he might actually get to do that, maybe one day soon even.

                “Let me put these in a vase for you…”

                “Thanks. I’ll just go and check on dinner. Glass of wine?”

                “Yeah, please.”

                On his hunt for a vase he spies the table, set for two, and it's not super unusual, but neither is it normal. Most often they usually eat in the living room, plates balanced precariously on their knees. Not tonight. Tonight lots of things are different. Little things, but they’re adding up, one atop of another into something monumentally huge. He turns to find Ice watching him, glass of wine held out between long fingers and he takes it, fingers brushing Ice’s slightly. It’s an accidental brush, but it feels like every hair on his body is suddenly standing on end, hyperaware. He licks his lips, doesn't know if he's imagining it or not, the weight of Ice's gaze on him, but it’s so heavy he can almost feel it on him like a calming weight.

                Things slip back into normalcy, conversation focusing around work and their extended group of friends, and he can almost pretend that it’s two or three weeks ago before he knew that Ice was gay. That Ice is in love with him. The knowledge still sends jittery excitement through his veins and over his skin, and when Ice directs him to the table to eat he doesn’t miss the barely-there hand on his lower back, like Ice isn’t sure it would be welcome or not. He needs to make sure that Ice knows it is, welcome and wanted.

                He settles into his seat and reaches his legs out carefully, then purposely rests his ankle against Ice’s. It’s all so innocent and careful, like they’re equally wary. But he’s always been the one more prepared to take the leap of faith and he notes the little spots of pink high on his cheeks and feels the same thrill as getting tone on a target.

                Bullseye.

…            …            …

                He’s slept with Pete. Spent the night curled together in a bed more than once when they were younger. Purely platonically of course, and he’d been younger, dumber and much more of a glutton for self-flagellation when he’d realized he was in love with his straight best friend. They’d gotten older and they hadn’t really needed to share a bed again, although passing out drunk on the sofa had also happened plenty.

                Needless to say, he’s familiar enough with touching Pete’s body that the simple press of his ankle against Tom’s shouldn’t be as arousing as it is. He knows, logically, that it’s not the touch exactly, that his brain has gone into overdrive thinking about the touch elsewhere. That the possibility of that touch happening is now almost certain after years of fantasizing about it. He fully expects Pete to bring it up, the whole silly situation with the misunderstood identities. Pete’s always faced things like this head on. He doesn’t bring it up though. So neither does Tom.

                They finish dinner, and Pete insists on doing the dishes, which is usual. Neither of them can stand to leave the mess sitting around, too many years of ingrained habit of having to be clean and tidy. He doesn’t miss the way Pete’s body is in his personal space more, every movement feels charged with electricity, making him hyperaware of the distance between them, of the warmth emanating from Pete’s body when he passes close by. He wonders what Pete would do if he just pressed him against the bench and kissed him, lifted him up onto the side table and slid his hands around him.

                He doesn’t do anything of the sort of course, but he thinks about it, each thought getting worse and he finds his pants getting a little too tight. Lord. He’s too old for inconveniently timed erections, this is ridiculous.

                “I’ll go set up the chess board.”

                Pete hums his acknowledgment and Tom wonders if Pete can tell, or knows what kind of effect he’s having. He finds he doesn’t care either way. The evening has felt both familiar and comforting, reminding him why he and Pete have been friends for so long. Layered over it though is a fresh newness, or maybe rather than it been layered over it’s been peeled back, exposing both of them to the potential of more. They play chess and he’s distracted, it takes him longer to win than usual, and the smirk on Pete’s face tells him that he’s perfectly aware of why.

                He really does love the asshole.

…            …            …

                He’s pulling on his jacket when he remembers. Ice is going to Hawaii for two weeks, where he’s meant to be based, and Pete is back in the good graces through his recent heroic actions, despite what Cyclone thinks.

                “I’m headed back to China Lake for some testing. Be gone a few weeks but should be back here by the time you get back.”

                “Hmm. Have a good time in China Lake. I'll see you when we’re both back in town.”

                “Yeah. Of course.”

                Every part of him is screaming to close the distance between them and just grab Ice’s face and pull him down into a kiss but he’s suddenly frozen with indecision. Terrified that maybe he will screw things up. Or maybe just somehow disappoint him. Which he realizes is such a ridiculous thing considering the number of times he’s had to ring Ice and listen to his disappointed sigh on the other end of the line as he’s explained exactly what he’s done and why it’s pissed someone off.

                Huh.

                Maybe he should have figured out that Ice was in love with him earlier.

                Instead he reaches for Ice’s hand and brings it to his lips, brushes a kiss over his knuckles and he doesn’t let his eyes leave Ice’s face. Takes in the widening pupils, his mouth dropping open slightly, and pink stain returning to his cheeks and Pete preens inwardly. Feels so infinitely powerful that he can make Ice look like this without even kissing him.

                “Thanks for dinner Tom.”

                He never uses Ice’s given name, but he uses it now, because this whole evening is about changing their relationship, moving the dynamics of what they have into something more and he wants Ice to know he’s all in.

CHAPTER FOUR

[glitterjay]

okay just a personal thought I wanted to share ever since I got to know jake I always see most of the people see him as a very soft puppy like boyfriend but I personally don't think that's true !! he's kind loving soft and indeed a puppy of course but I also believe he can get pretty controlling and strict with his girl I mean not like an asshole but still he wouldn't let go of her waist and hips if they're in a party or wouldn't really like her wearing short short dresses, and considering how he INSISTS on buying things as expensive as prada for engene it makes me sure he wouldn't let his gf even bring a wallet let alone pay for anything, other than that everyone say he's calm but I feel like he would actually get mad and fuck HARD when he sees his gf around other men ... like golden retrieve mixed with vampire personality and desires lol

i def get where you're coming from, i just love sub and loser jake a little too much and enjoy writing him like that! but you're totally correct as well. he's possive with what's his and his only. i feel like he loves showering his s/o with expensive things such as clothes, designer bags, jewelry, etc etc. AND HE LOOOOVES when s/o tells other people that he got all of those things for them.

he also seems like the type to get really fucking jealous and his way of coping through that feeling is jealously sex. "have you forgotten who you belong to?" type of shit. he's rough and all but so sweet during after care :( overall, he has the bubbly personality of a golden retriever, but dont get on his bad side or its over.

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

This collab has been in the works for some time now and we’re finally ready to share with you the first chapter! @kultavalo and I have giggled for many a moons over these two love birds so we hope you enjoy them just as much as we do 🥰

*Read on AO3

Pairing: Josh Kiszka X Danny Wagner *sweet sweet slash

Warnings and tags: 18+ ONLY! No minors need be present where Finn and I are involved! Some slight angst, idiots pinning and flirting, fluuuffff, more tags to be added later

Word count: 2.7k

Omne Trium Perfectum, everything that comes in threes is perfect.

What a beautiful phrase, though anything in Latin did tend to have that effect.

It was something Danny often thought about ever since he heard it read aloud from a book Jake was reading in their shared space on the bus between two seemingly identical cities.

The more he thought about it the more it did very well seem that everything that came in threes was indeed perfect: the sun, the moon, and the stars. Melody, rhythm, and harmony. The three musketeers, the three wise men, the holy trinity, hell even bacon lettuce and tomato…

Though he’d been close with the Kiszkas for a very long time, Danny still sometimes struggled to find where he fit in. Josh, Jake, and Sam- everything in threes is perfect.

Even despite their constant corrections of interviewers, their heartening attempts to include him, Danny still had this nagging feeling in the back of his head that he would always be just on the outside looking in. Of course that was until three times he and Josh kissed, and by the third time he knew he was right where he belonged.

𖤓 - ☾ - ☆

The mall was quiet. The giant plastic ice cream cone that slowly turned near the entrance to the food court hummed softly in its rotations. A pack of moms with strollers had invaded the benches near the central fountain and a group of kids who were quite clearly supposed to be in school right now shot them nervous glances from their huddled corner near the Hot Topic.

It wasn’t often that Josh and Danny got to spend some quality time with just the two of them. Often either Sam or Jake or both would tag along on whatever adventure they might go on, not wanting to miss out on any potential fun.

But honestly this trip to the mall was not exactly the kind of quality time or adventure anyone was actually thrilled about.

Earlier that day Josh had received quite a scolding from Jen, their makeup artist. He had been secretly dipping into her stash of white eyeliners after he had run out of the one tiny pencil he had brought on tour himself.

In his defense Josh had never expected that he would enjoy wearing the simple white dots that were all his current skill level would allow on a daily basis. The original idea had been to only apply them for interviews and more casual public outings where he still had to look the rockstar part. But the more he practiced and perfected his symmetrical application, the more he started to add the tiny bits of flair to his daily outfits. They made him feel pretty. The pencil he had brought lasted about two weeks.

He really thought Jen wouldn’t notice. It was just one pencil out of her giant kit! But in his ignorance Josh had inadvertently grabbed the most expensive item out of the whole bunch and Jen had definitely noticed.

She had cornered him in the dining room of the hotel during breakfast that morning. It had just been him and Danny at their table, sleepily blinking into their cereal as they tried to wake themselves up enough to actually go out and enjoy their day off between shows. Neither boy had noticed her angrily stomp up to them until it was too late.

She slammed her hand down on the table, rattling the cups and bowls and startling the two half asleep musicians.

“Joshua Michael Kiszka.” she hissed as she held up the stump of what used to be a full white eyeliner pencil.

“I know your mother raised you better than to steal so would you care to explain to me what this is supposed to be?”

Fear gripped Josh’s heart. Jen was one of the most gentle and loving people he knew. No matter what kind of shenanigans he pulled or how bratty he acted she always treated him kindly and with a smile. So the fact that she now looked like she was about to strangle him truly made him think carefully about his next words.

“Uhm…” was all he managed to stutter out before she put up a hand to silence him.

“Don’t even start with me, young man. Do you have any idea how expensive this pencil is?”

Josh simply shook his head slowly. He’d never really thought about the price of makeup, the shitty little pencil he got at CVS was just a few bucks, but the look on Jen’s face told him that had not been the case for the one he’d so carelessly nicked from her beautycase.

“Forty five dollars.” she spat at him and all the color in Josh’s face drained. He didn’t even know eyeliner could be that expensive.

“You better get me a new one Josh.” Jen continued, “Or you can do your own makeup for the rest of the tour.”

Danny, who had been trying to stay as quiet as possible and had just focussed on finishing his cereal and getting the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible let out a tiny snicker at that. He instantly regretted letting the small noise escape his lips when Jen turned her burning gaze to him.

“And you!” She pointed an accusing finger at Danny but quickly lowered it when she realized he hadn’t actually done anything wrong.

“You better go with him and make sure he doesn’t fuck up more.” she grumbled before storming back off to her room, leaving the two boys stunned in her wake.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that angry before” Danny mumbled into his coffee cup as Josh dropped his face into his hands in shame.

“Yeah me neither.” Josh’s voice was muffled but Danny could still make out the words.

“You gotta help me Danny, I really fucked up this time.” he sighed as he rubbed his hands over his face.

Danny sighed as he finished the last of his coffee. This wasn’t exactly what he had planned for his one day off in over a week, but he couldn’t let Josh down. Something about those big brown eyes that pleadingly stared at him from between those fingers made him incapable of saying no.

“Fine, but you owe me one.”

***

They'd hijacked a runner van and taken a trip to the nearest mall.

Soft jazz echoed through the almost abandoned halls and promenade as Josh and Danny made their way from shop to shop. The search for the insanely overpriced pencil had started frantically. Jen had left the stump Josh had tried to sneak back into her kit on the breakfast table and the boys had been smart enough to bring it with them for reference.

It didn't take long for him to get distracted however.

Besides his own impulse purchase of the white eyeliner during an unrelated CVS run, Josh had never actually been inside a makeup store. He had no idea about the wealth of products that were available and the wide assortment of colors and sparkles blew his mind.

Danny tried to keep him on track for the first hour or so but he had to admit trying out all the different shades of eyeshadow on the back of his hands was pretty fun.

“Do you think we should get Jen a new eyeshadow palette as well?” Josh had asked once both of his hands were covered in colorful swatches.

“You know, as an apology?” He continued as he swiped a new color onto Danny's wrist, having run out of space on his own skin.

Danny shot him a halfhearted frown but in all fairness the glittery purple Josh had put on him did look good against his skin.

“We don't have to do anything. If you'll remember I didn't steal anything. If you wanna buy her something extra to make up for your crimes feel free. I'm just here to keep you out of more trouble.” Danny said as he jokingly swiped a line of silver powder across Josh’s cheek.

Josh snorted out a laugh as he swatted Danny's hand away from his face.

“And you're doing a marvelous job at it darling.” He laughed as he turned back to the array of makeup in front of him, loading up his fingers with 10 new colors to try.

Danny knew Josh joked when he called him pet names. He called everyone darling, it wasn't anything special.

But the way his stomach felt… like there was a tiny firecracker that went off in his abdomen when the word hit his ears. It still made him feel special…

Danny quickly locked that feeling back in the corner of his brain he had labeled “for future consideration”. A corner he had established a few years ago when one random Tuesday in August he had looked at Josh and something in the way the sun hit him in that moment made his stomach flip over twice.

Danny wasn't sure when the time for consideration would arrive. It certainly wouldn't be right now though, walking towards the lipstick counter, about to tell Josh he probably shouldn't swatch the chapstick straight on his lips.

“Josh, I don't think that's very hygienic.” Danny hissed into his ear while he scanned the area for any employees who might have spotted them and deemed this the final transgression worthy of kicking them out of the store. They still hadn’t found that ridiculously overpriced pencil they were looking for in the first place.

Josh simply let out a huff and rolled his eyes.

“Calm down, I’m gonna buy it. It tastes like watermelon though!” he said as he absentmindedly threw the tube into the shopping basket Danny was holding.

After about another hour of swatching, searching, and Danny herding Josh through the aisles like a toddler who might eat all the crayons in art class, they finally found the elusive white eyeliner pencil.

Jen hadn’t lied, it really was fortyfive dollars. It seemed like a ridiculous price to Danny but Josh bought two anyway. One for her and one for him so she wouldn’t kick his ass for stealing again.

After their quest was complete the two men decided to reward themselves with milkshakes and look at their respective hauls in the food court.

“Can you get me a chocolate with whipped cream shake?” Josh asked as he walked towards the nearest table, typing on his phone as he took a seat, practically ignoring Danny.

“Absolutely the fuck not.” Danny said with a huff which made Josh look up in surprise. The confused look on his face was honestly adorable but Danny didn’t let that influence him.

“I sacrificed my free day to come along with you. You used both my arms as swatch central, and I’m carrying both of our bags. You get me a milkshake.” Danny laughed. He wasn’t actually angry at Josh but someone needed to reign in the diva on occasion.

The pouty look Josh shot at him was almost enough to sway his determination but Danny put his foot down. He did do all of those things for Josh and there was no reason why he shouldn’t receive a little bit of gratitude for it.

Josh let out a dramatic sigh when he realized Danny wasn’t wavering but he did get up and started walking towards the shake shop.

“Don’t you want to know my order?” Danny asked as Josh walked off but he simply waved and said “I know what you like.”

Danny pretended his stomach didn’t shoot up into his throat at those words. He took a seat at the table Josh had picked and started rifling through their shopping bags. their quest had started with just one pencil but they had ended up with so much more. Eyeshadow and blush palettes, mascara, nail polish, lipstick. They could have put together their own beauty kits at this point.

Danny lazily looked over it all as he waited for Josh to return. They had bought so much sparkly shit. He didn’t even know what half of it was for but he was sure he could figure it out with some help from google and youtube.

Out of the corner of his eye, still slightly stuck in the plastic bag Danny spotted an item he did know how to use however. The chapstick Josh had said tasted like watermelon.

He grabbed the tiny tube and pulled the cap off. The strong, sweet smell of artificial watermelon immediately penetrated his nostrils. It was a fairly intense but nonetheless pleasant smell.

Danny absentmindedly pressed the chapstick to his lips, wanting to see for himself if the smell actually matched the flavor or if it would simply taste like vaseline.

He had to admit he wasn’t disappointed. The chapstick truly did taste like a watermelon candy.

“I don’t think that’s very hygienic.” Josh's mocking voice spoke from right next to him, slightly startling Danny.

Josh simply chuckled as he set down the tray carrying the two giant milkshakes he had purchased.

“Now it’s almost like we kissed.” he grinned at Danny as he took a sip from his own cup and pushed the other towards the drummer.

Danny’s eyes went wide and all he could stammer out was a shaky “Wh-what?”

Josh shrugged as he popped the clear plastic dome off of his cup and used his straw to mix the whipped cream through his drink. He barely even looked up at Danny as he continued speaking.

“That’s what they say, when you share chapstick it’s like you kissed. ‘Cause your lips touched the same surface.”

Danny stared at Josh for a long quiet moment. Josh hardly seemed to notice, too busy with mixing his drink to the perfect consistency.

Eventually the self preservation mechanism in Danny’s brain took over and he quickly took a sip of his own milkshake to break the awkwardness.

The taste that hit his tongue was simultaneously nothing like he expected and everything he knew he wanted.

“I didn’t know they made watermelon milkshakes.”

“I told you. I know what you like.”

Danny tried to hide his blush behind his giant cup but honestly it was hardly necessary. Josh had grabbed the nearest eyeshadow palette and was intensely studying the shimmering colors.

Once they had finished their drinks they decided it was time to head back to the hotel.

They had seen pretty much all the tiny mall had to offer and Danny was set on spending whatever remained of his free day soaking in the jacuzzi tub his room had granted him access to. If he spent some of that soaking time thinking about a certain frontman and getting himself off, well that was between him and the bathwater.

Josh had texted the van driver while they were still at the food court so by the time they’d found the correct mall exit they only had to wait for another ten minutes to be picked up.

The sun was shining bright and there was a small patch of grass next to the pick-up area. Josh quickly kicked his sandals off and sighed contently as his bare feet touched the grass. With his eyes closed and his face turned to the sun Josh didn’t notice Danny staring at him.

There was a reason everyone compared Josh to the sun. He radiated a certain kind of light that was simply undeniable. Right now Josh seemed to be recharging, soaking up the few rays of direct sunlight he could get to make his own glow shine brighter once more. Danny loved staring at that glow, even if he could only do it in secret. Whenever he could bask in those little rays of Josh’s sunlight he felt like a starving man finally being fed.

It wasn’t too long before the van showed up and Josh reluctantly put his shoes back on, threw his bags in the trunk, and joined Danny in the backseat.

Josh patted his pockets as the van started driving, seemingly looking for something. He turned in his seat and hooked his arm over the headrest, trying to reach something in the trunk.

Danny looked at him in confusion but before he could ask what he was doing Josh turned back. He huffed, looked at Danny, and kissed him straight on the lips.

Danny’s brain short circuited.

It only lasted a second. Honestly it was over before he even realized what had happened.

He simply blinked at Josh in confusion, hoping that somehow the morse code his eyes were spelling out conveyed his question of “what just happened” to the other man.

It seemingly worked cause Josh simply shrugged and said “my lips were dry. The chapstick is in the bag in the trunk but you’re still wearing it. I’m simply getting back what I paid for Daniel, don’t look so surprised. If anything, this whole trip today should have taught you that stealing doesn’t work.”

He pulled out his phone and half heartedly started scrolling through instagram, ignoring Danny’s still shocked gaze.

Josh had kissed him. On the mouth. Like it was nothing.

Danny's stomach was in his throat and his heart was in his ears and Josh was just looking at his phone.

The watermelon flavored tube of chapstick burned a hole into the pocket of his pants.

𖤓 - ☾ - ☆

Tags: @sanguinebats @gracev0609

[thezombieprostitute]

Nightmares - Part 2

Summary: You and Curtis are having to deal with literal and figurative nightmares while working to make sure the Garbage Men operation runs smoothly.

A/N: Reader is plus sized female. No other descriptors used.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Family angst, Fat shaming (a lot of fat shaming), Implied violence, Mentions of death, PTSD. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

“Thank you, again, for agreeing to meet, Mr. Smith,” Bucky started. 

“I’ve been needing to catch up with Jonathan again so this was not out of my way,” Raymond replies after sipping his tea. 

“Were you informed as to the reason for this appointment,” you ask. “I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.”

“Indeed,” Raymond nods. “I was informed one of your people had a contract out on them and you were seeking to have it removed.” He pulls out his tablet and asks, “may I have the name of the person on the contract?” Bucky gives him Hummingbird’s name and he appears to search for it. “That’s quite the price tag on her head,” Raymond noted. “Did Mr. Bounty Hunter explain the costs for removal?”

Bucky nods, “we’re prepared to wire you the money. Half now, half after proof of the contract being burned.”

“Oh, you’re going for the full burn,” Raymond intoned. “Please do keep in mind that’s only a five year warranty that the person will not have a contract out for them.”

“We understand,” Bucky confirmed. He nodded to you and, after getting the account numbers from Raymond, wired half of the required money. Upon confirmation, Raymond worked at his tablet to remove the contract. GBH was able to confirm it was removed and any attempts at posting a new one under Hummingbird’s maiden or married name was unsuccessful. With that, you wired the rest of the small fortune. 

“If that will be all,” Raymond went to stand, “I have a lunch planned with Mr. Pine.”

“Mr. Smith,” you interject, “I understand your policy on not sharing information on who posts contracts and I will not ask you to release anything that could directly identify them.” Raymond stays seated and nods at you. “However, as the target in question is important to our Family, and pregnant at that, I hope you can understand if I ask for any non-specific information without it hurting G– Mr. Bounty Hunter’s reputation.”

“Your politeness and understanding are greatly appreciated on this matter,” Raymond commented. “I understand how emotional these situations can be, especially where female targets are concerned. I also appreciate that you put her importance to you and yours ahead of her pregnancy. Many would consider me a monster for allowing a contract on a pregnant woman, but the fact is, I did not know and it wasn’t a consideration. I do not look into who the targets are, after all.” Raymond takes another sip of his tea. “You are correct that I have an obligation to not reveal anything and I can assure you that your professionalism has secured Mr. Bounty Hunter’s reputation. If anything, the fact that he brought along such level headed people encourages me to raise his standings.” He looks at GBH, “but that will be another discussion.” GBH nods his understanding. 

Raymond continues, “as to any information about the person who posted the contract all personal intel will remain locked up. But, for your politeness and professionalism, not to mention Mr. Bounty Hunter’s good clout with our organization, I will say that a contract with this kind of price tag is almost always personal. Whoever wanted this woman dead, they didn’t want it for professional gain.”

“So someone with a personal vendetta against Steve,” Bucky mutters. “Doesn’t narrow it down too much.”

“I never said it was against Mr. Rogers,” Raymond remarked with a raised eyebrow. “Now, if you will all excuse me, I really must get to my lunch appointment.”

“So we’ve got Jake poring over her socials, the contract is burned, I’m not sure how much more we can do at the moment,” you report to Curtis. He picked you up from the hotel and was now driving the two of you to lunch with your mother and aunt. 

He nods in agreement at your assessment, grateful to have something to think about other than finally meeting some of your family. He figured something like this would happen eventually but the reality of it is pretty daunting for him. Part of him feels like he’d rather go another round with Lloyd than do this. But you need him so he’s stepping up. 

“Any last minute suggestions before we meet them,” he asks you. 

“My mom and I are going to argue, that’s a given,” you tell him. “No matter how much you might want to, don’t try to get between us, just focus on talking to Aunt Jo. She’s the one who actually listens.”

“So, no advice on how to get mom to like me?”

“I don’t know if she actually likes anyone,” you confess. “We’ll just meet her for a quick meal and hopefully knowing that I’m in a relationship will give her one less thing to yap at me about.”

“We skip ordering a main course and just get appetizers, then?”

“Solid plan. I love it.” You lean over and kiss his cheek. “I hope you know I love you, too.”

“Always,” he promises with a smile.

You walk into the restaurant and spot your mom and Aunt Jo. Aunt Jo sees you enter and waves. 

“Remember, Curtis, you just talk to Aunt Jo.” He nods in confirmation as you walk over. You give him a small thank you as he pulls out your chair for you, setting you across the table from your mother. 

“What the hell is this?” Your mother’s tone is doused in acid. “You’re so desperate to get me off your back about dating that you hired a homeless person to play the role?”

Curtis’s eyebrows raise at the insinuation. He’d even made sure to dress up a bit.

“Mom, just because he has facial hair doesn’t mean he’s homeless,” you bite back. “We’ve been over this.”

“Well excuse me for thinking that any decent man would be clean shaven when meeting their partner’s family.”

“Not everyone has to abide by your standards.”

“You certainly didn’t,” your mother scoffs. “Look at you! It’s almost as if you’ve gained weight. Must be all the stress from losing your job with the author.”

“Oh, you’re no longer working for Mr. Drysdale?” Aunt Jo’s question is a welcome interruption for Curtis who is doing his best to follow your request and not intervene.

“Correct,” you smile at her. “I’ve got a much more satisfying, if busier, job. Still pays well and has great benefits, too!”

“If you’d kept the job with Drysdale you’d have a better chance at marrying rich and not having to work,” Mom accuses. “Honestly, your only chance before was attraction through familiarity. But now you don’t even have that!”

“Mom, Curtis, my boyfriend, is right here.” 

“And?”

“And Curtis appreciates me as I am.”

Mom huffs, “probably because with you around he’s doubled his wardrobe. Or maybe your clothes are too big for him.”

“Just like not everyone cares about facial hair, not everyone cares about weight,” you snipe back. 

“And from the intensity of his glare I think he’s quite taken with her,” Aunt Jo adds, smiling. “Seriously, young man, I’m so glad my niece is with someone who looks like he’d happily make a scene to defend her.” Curtis is caught off guard by the compliment but nods his thanks to your aunt. 

Thankfully Mom’s reply is cut off by the waiter approaching and getting drink orders. You inwardly wince when your mother orders a mimosa, reinforcing your resolve to just get an appetizer and get out. You order yourself a ginger ale, knowing you’ll need it to help your stomach. Curtis orders a root beer, his comfort drink, so you know he’s feeling it too. You go ahead and order the appetizer now. The sooner it gets here, the sooner you can leave.

“An appetizer? Really?” Your mother shakes her head. “It’s bad enough you refuse to lose weight but to flaunt it in front of me is just rude.”

“The appetizer is all we’re going to eat,” you reply.

“So you’re admitting you don’t want to be here,” she snipes back. “Why bother showing up at all if you’re just gonna spit in my face by throwing away everything I tried to teach you and walking out on me?”

“Because it would be more rude to ignore you completely and you know it. I’m trying, I really am, even if you can’t see it.”

“And she’s clearly doing well for herself,” Aunt Jo adds. “She’s able to afford to keep living in the city, has a boyfriend who looks like he'd kill to protect her. And do you see her business outfit? That’s high-end stuff.”

Mom huffs yet again and Curtis sends Aunt Jo a look of gratitude as the drinks are brought out. Curtis makes sure to keep his hand on the bottle so he doesn’t slam a fist on the table as you and Mom keep arguing.  

“They’re going to be like this until you leave,” Aunt Jo confides. “So tell me, how did you and my niece meet?” Curtis falls into a nice conversation with her, frequently glancing over at you, letting you squeeze his hand, sending glares to your mother. Aunt Jo smiles at him, “you’re taking good care of her. Thank you for that. She’s gonna need your support more than your anger after this.”

“Why are they like this?”

“Probably a strong dose of multi-generational trauma,” she tells him. “Women in our family have been strongly encouraged to go on starvation rations for generations with the ideal of marrying rich. Thankfully a few of us have broken loose, like our girl there. But, like a lot of women, she still wants some kind of approval from mother, you know?”

Curtis turns his attention to you, eyes full of adoration. He squeezes your hand, “how about we head home?”

“You’re living together?! I know I taught you better than to be a whore,” your mother loudly whispers. Curtis’s grip on the bottle goes so tight the glass cracks, getting the attention of everyone at the tables nearby. 

“Sweetie, is your hand okay?” You give Curtis all of your attention and go to check if he’s cut himself.

“I’ll be okay,” he says through gritted teeth. “How about we just go home now?”

“Of course. Aunt Jo, it’s been a pleasure as always. Mom, I look forward to your phone calls and emails reprimanding me for everything. I hope the two of you enjoy the rest of your vacation.”

With that, you and Curtis get up, pay your bill and leave.

Part 1 -- Part 3

Series Masterlist

@alicedopey; @alexakeyloveloki; @bigtreefest; @dontbescaredtosingalong; @fic-reblogs-0-0; @hisredheadedgoddess28; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @texmexdarling; @veltana; @winter-soldier-101

[sombrashe]

Lord Otto

content gn! reader, older! troy, legal age gap, first meeting, reader’s parents are dead in this, no smut only fluff

note(s) how many times did I put simply and quite? | I see reader as being early 20’s and troy being more his season 8 age so like early to mid-30s

“Excuse me, Sir Otto?”

A voice startles him out of conversation with his brother. Tilting his head to the left he waits for his brother to respond. Only you never take your eyes off him. Bright and wide they look deep into his as you anxiously wait for a reply. You're breathtaking and he nearly misses his brother's words.

“Well, Troy? Are you going to make them wait? They clearly cannot wait to have an audience with you.”

He’s enamored by the way you ignore his brother's exasperated response. Annoyance going unheard or simply ignored as you bow low to show him you mean your words. Rising your fingers never leave their spot glued to your heavy-looking rich skirt. Eyes shining despite him never uttering a word.

“My lord, may I have this next dance?”

He gives a short laugh. A half smile shows off his snaggletooth. One of the only endearing qualities he believes he has. That and his money… he doesn't have many qualities. None enough to catch the attention of someone as starry eyes as you.

“Can not find another suitable dance partner?”

You frown and present your nearly full dance card to him. All different names written in perfect penmanship with one single blank at the very bottom. Keeping the card presented he realizes slowly that you are waiting for him to sign it. To take you up on your offer for him to dance.

“How enigmatic.”

“Vexing is the word you are looking for brother. Asking you to dance, ha, a waste of time indeed.”

He simply shakes his head and takes the small pencil hanging from your card as if not in control of himself. Here he was of noble blood taking up your offer to dance instead of the correct way around. He has to wonder where your chaperone was. He can’t help the prickles of fear that wash down his spine as he signs his name, bold against the ivory paper. Set resting pretty in a diamond-encrusted case. Something he remembers was never offered to the common guests of his ball. Straightening up he doesn't miss the wide smile that fattens your cheeks. You take in the crooked letters for a moment as if hypnotized.

“Brother, you must be joking. Father-.”

“I do not care what father has to say on the matter, Jake. Now if you will let me go I have a dance I need to attend.”

Ripping his arms from his brother's grasp he fixes his waistcoat, white as sugarcane, before allowing you to wrap your arm around his. Following him he maintains a decent distance from you. A given with how many eyes are on you both. Watching the youngest Otto and this random individual who must have bribed him to get him onto the dance floor. Or maybe this was all a ruse set up by his father. An attempt to fix their soiled name. Or maybe, just maybe, you were genuine in your interest to dance with him. Your fingers flex against his linen sleeves, but you do not attempt to pull away as he leads you toward the middle of the floor. Instead, you keep that simple sweet smile plastered on your face as he turns to face you.

“That was a bold move, asking me to dance. Especially in front of my brother.”

“I tried waiting for you to make your rounds. Hoping you would find me eventually and ask me to dance. Only you never left your corner so I decided to make a move myself. I hope that is okay, my Lord.”

“That is quite embarrassing. Having to be approached, especially as a man of my stature.”

“That was not my intention at all, sir. I deeply apologize.”

He watches as your eyebrows furrow together. Something so cute he notices as you start to frit. Bottom lip being chewed on, an action he notices you frequent if your lips are any indication of your actions.

“It is quite alright. I do not mind as one might think.”

You visibly relax and it helps settle an air of calm over the both of you. He settles into routine, step, pivot, step, spin, step, step, twirl. Over and over he moves in tandem with you. Your lips part to allow nonsensical words to fall from them. He listens to you ramble and takes in every word. He doesn't understand why he does. This is a one-time dance. A bored young individual who wanted to fill up the last spot on their card. Nothing more. Yet, he can’t help but fall hook line, and sinker for every single syllable you utter. He learns you are a patron of the arts. Using your valuable resources to fund specifically writers. Taking the time to study up on dozens of authors all of whom seem to fight for the spot as number one in your mind.

“By a Lady is a wonderful writer, she is quite exquisite in the way the letters flow from her pen to the paper. Oh, but there's also the woman who wrote Frankenstein. I really enjoyed how she describes the creature. It is quite sad. Or-.”

“Frankenstein was written by a man. A woman could not write a book with such depth.”

You laugh at him. You laugh at him and he can’t even find it in himself to get mad.

“Forgive me my lord, but a man could not have written that book. The creature is a sensitive thing. There are plenty of great male authors, but only a woman could write and understand the creature the way she does. Of course, you do not have to agree with me and I apologize for speaking out of turn I am simply passionate about writing is all. It’s silly.”

“Please do not apologize. Having strong emotions towards your interests like you do shows that you are quite intelligent. It is sweet. I am quite sure your future husband will think the same way.”

Step, turn, twirl, and your dance is completed. He means to wish you a good night and farewell, but when your hand reaches out to keep him in place he finds himself following you out of the crowd and into a slightly less populated, yet still suffocating, hallway. Smiling up at him you comment how you had a wonderful time dancing with him and how you wished to have one more with him if he so desired.

“I am not one much for dancing. I do apologize.”

Seeing you frown makes his heart ache and he almost leaves right then and there. He has much more important matters to attend to and yet here he is, his heart weeping at the sight of you so destroyed by his simple words.

“That is alright, my Lord. I understand. I will let you go then. I do not want to keep your company for longer than necessary.”

You stay still waiting for him to excuse himself. You have broken enough tradition it seems. Instead, he extends his bent elbow to you. You look up at him with the sweetest gaze as you gently wrap your hand around his bicep and he courts you throughout the halls. Your conversation is boring and he enjoys the time basking in your glow.

“What about sports, Lord Otto? Are there any that you are particularly fond of?”

“Boxing,” his answer is quick and he doesn't even notice that he’s responded until you're looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. Full of wonder and intrigue as you listen. “I am fond of boxing. I regularly attend matches and participate in quite a few of them.”

“Do you win? When you fight?”

He pauses and looks down at you. Innocence coming off of you in waves as you await a response. He’s never been asked that before winning, only ever being expected of him. Never an option. Starting up your walking again he formulates a response through a green carpeted hallway.

“Yes, I do, quite a bit actually. I’m just below Mr. Clark. Do you know who that is?”

“Of course. He is one of the top performers. He is quite a large man with thirty-odd wins under his belt, is he not?”

He is completely and utterly confused. There is no way you could know of his man. It was uncommon for men who didn't actively partake in the sport to know of him let alone someone of your stature. He proceeds carefully.

“He is. How did you know?”

“He is my uncle. I ask him about his fights every time he comes to visit. He gets a little too into the details, but I do not mind. The fights always sound so… brutal. Bloody too, I imagine.”

You kept your voice low to keep your conversation a secret. A young person like you should not be engaging in conversation where the topic involves two men beating each other to a bloody pulp. But despite the confusing descriptors you used what was most confusing was the fact that you were related to the Clark bloodline.

“You are a Clark?”

“My mother was, my father was something different altogether. She took his last name, which means I did as well. So, I am the last of my father's name.”

“Your parents, are they not?”

He was trying to be gentle. Keeping in mind what his brother taught him throughout his childhood. He was to keep unsavory questions to himself, but he couldn't help himself. He was simply much too curious about your answer.

“No. They are dead, my lord. Have been for nearly three years now.”

What a sad response. He dutifully caresses your hand with his. An apology for your loss quickly on his tongue. He has been following your lead and has done little to dissuade you from where you wanted to go. Until now. The estate was a sight to behold in the broad daylight and even now the darkness did little to hide its natural beauty. Moss and vines grow towards the heavens, covering the sides of the home with the front cleaned to perfection for guests. Plant life covers every inch of landscape, only the gravel path for carriages left unnatural. He begins to slow his descent down the stairs as he starts to notice in the distance a large hedge. Upon closer inspection, it seems to open in the middle like a curtain, permanent and inviting. Both words describe you. He should be pulling away. Making a scene to allow everyone from the ton knowledge that he was not the kind of man to be whisked off into a dark corner of the property for god knows what.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To the gardens, it’s just through the maze.”

“Where is the lady or master the house? I’m sure they would want to know before we go walking off into their precious gardens.”

“I believe they will be fine with it. I guarantee it.”

“You know this how?”

“Because they are me. I am quite alright with simply showing a guest my elaborate maze and gardens. It is talked about a lot, I know. Quite expensive. I spend every morning pruning the poor little things. This heatwave has been particularly mean to my Hydrangeaceae”

“This is yours?”

He can’t help the shock that seeps into his voice as he speaks. An entire estate taken care of by one person. Someone as young as you? Not even grown men can do it alone and here you were a few years out of your debut with no husband yet a house to take care of.

“It is quite hard, yes, but I have Ms. Daley. She has helped quite a lot and will continue to help me with all the paperwork as she was shown by my father. Until I am married, of course.”

You finish leading him from your home over to where the garden sits, hidden in the middle of an acre of thick hedges elaborately woven into a maze. It was absolutely gorgeous and he never once makes you stop. You simply do. Right in front of the large open hedge which starts the beginning of the maze.

“I go left and you go right? See who makes it to the garden first?”

He is once again reminded of your age as you offer this simple game he was fond of as a child. Grinning he breaks away from you with a nod.

“Deal.”

With that, you're hoisting up your skirt and rushing off towards the middle of the maze. Huffing he sprints to the right stopping at a turn before skirting behind it and following the twists and turns of the maze with little trouble. All the while your loud giggles and huffs of annoyance at getting lost in the dark are crystal clear this far away from the soiree. Shouting out he asks for help when he comes face to face with a decision, right or straight… he feels particularly keen on continuing straight. You simply laugh, an intoxicating sound that god himself must be listening to on such a clear night. He follows his gut instinct and follows the dark hedges straight, straight, straight until he comes across another right-hand turn which leads to another hedge much like the one from the beginning. Stepping through the opening he comes out the other side surrounded by fauna and flora. The garden is massive, with dozens of different types of flowers and even more greenery swallowing the small resting area provided.

“It’s wonderful, is it not?”

“It is.”

He doesn't close the distance, opting to inspect the naturally made bouquets. The sheer mass of flowers that litter the ground and grow upwards towards the heavens has him in awe. The splashes of reds, greens, purples, and pinks look muddied in the moonlight, but he can still see the beauty in the care you have provided for them. The silky feeling of the petals is exquisite and he feels heat rise to his cheeks as he wonders what you might feel like, silken like the petals or sharp like the thorns hidden beneath the leaves. He can feel his skin physically react when your soft hand presses against the sleeve of his top.

“I maintain a lot of primula vulgaris, different types of rosa rubiginosa, and a few bushels of lonicera. That's not all of course, but those are my favorites to work with. Quite a tasty snack when I have been working for a while.”

“They are beautiful.”

You look up at him with a small smile gracing your lips. The bumps and pits that decorate your skin are filled with dark shadows that dance across your face when you shift and he finds it difficult to move his eyes away. When he finally does he hopes you don't mistake the stare as what it is. Staring at the muted colors he thinks of what to say next. He is not one to be tongue tied and yet here he is completely and utterly befuddled. The sun is starting to rise and he lets out a breath he had no clue he was holding. Pinks and oranges start to light up the dusky sky. Turning his head he watches as those colors reflect themselves off the slope of your nose and the curve of your cheeks. You were mesmerizing and only inches away from him. He wants nothing more than to lean down and catch those soft pink-hued lips with his golden-streaked ones. Instead, he simply smiles and decides now is as good a time as any to end the night with you. Knowing how these parties went you would host a breakfast where all the ton members would sit and chat for a few extra hours before letting you alone to rest for the day. Gently he gathers your hand in his palm and raises it to his lips. Pressing those mellow painted lips against the dorsal side it sends a shock of electricity through to his toes.

“It was wonderful meeting you.”

“And I you, Lord Otto.”

A mumbled goodbye against soft skin and he’s separating himself from you. Refusing to look back he leaves you alone with your garden of beauty. A flower sitting unattended.