#im not hurt? maybe a little. but mostly baffled

[vamppeach]

warning signs that I forgot to eat:

1. I start thinking about that one friend breakup where I didn't get closure

2.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Gold Dust Woman | iii

A confession that was long overdue makes life even more complicated than before. Y/n has to make the hard decision of logic or emotion, only to realize that the answer she is so desperately seeking brings even more questions, and holds no comfort at all.

Read part two here

Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 13.1k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it), fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!reveiving), oral (m!receiving), face-fucking, choking, praise, touch of orgasm denial, biting, overstimulation, name calling, pet-names, multiple orgasms (male & female), dirty talk, some fluff, angst if you squint (light arguing, mostly just the plot line angst), feelings of guilt, swearing, sorry if i miss any!

howdy. im back from the dead 😁 here’s a little apology for all you wonderfully patient people. thanks for sticking with me ♥️ this is basically porn with plot. sorry if it’s not fantastic, i really wanted to get this out for you guys so some parts are a bit rushed and it’s poorly edited. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻

“Why now, Sam?” You asked, still trying to wrap your head around the information. His hand was still resting atop yours, the heat of his skin searing and the feeling just as electrifying. He didn’t respond, just took the opportunity to watch your face, studying the details like he was dependent upon it. You raised your eyebrow, prying for an answer.

“Now is as good as any time, right? Something about living in the moment, or whatever.” He shrugged, the boyish charm of his humour showing. While it usually made you swoon, now it was infuriating.

“No, not really.” You laughed, but it wasn’t because the situation was humorous. You had no idea what else to do, and that was the only sound that wanted to make an appearance. “Maybe a few months ago? Last week? Last night, even?”

“Why does it matter?” He asked, thinking he could catch you in your lie.

“Because it does!” You exclaimed, keeping your voice as quiet as possible. The last thing you wanted was to make a scene and get everyone else involved. To get Jake involved, more specifically. “I’ve been in love with you for…” you paused, looking past him and settling your gaze on the wall. You needed to gather your thoughts before continuing. Your emotions were high, which never meant anything good. You much preferred to use logic instead of emotion, and the last two days had been completely void of anything logical. “A long time, Sam.” You finally said, looking back to him. “A really long time, and you never gave me any idea that you felt the same way.”

“You never said anything, either.” He defended, a sinking feeling settling in his stomach. Had he known you felt so strongly for him, he might have acted sooner.

“Because every time you come over, you always seem to want to talk to every girl other than me. You always acted like I was just another one of the guys, not that you liked me, too.” You could see the look of regret form on his face, but you didn’t feel bad for saying it. You were hurt, completely baffled that he’d waited so long. “And the one night…” you took a deep breath, forcing the words to come out, even if you didn’t want them to. “The one night I wasn’t sitting there watching you, waiting for you to pay attention to me like a lost puppy, is the night you notice. The night I finally decided to have fun, instead of just existing, you happen to be watching me, too. The night you see another guy paying attention to me was when you finally decided to speak up? Like I was only worth liking when you were scared you couldn’t have me?”

“No, y/n. It’s not like that.” He shut the idea down, realizing how bad it looked, now. “I mean, yeah, it definitely made me want to speak up, to say something before I lost the chance, but that’s not why I’m telling you.”

“Months, Sam. You can’t tell me you didn’t notice. My entire world revolves around you, and you waited until someone else made a move?” You didn’t realize the extent of your words; once you said them, his demeanour changed.

“So, it was more than a game of beer pong?” He questioned, but he didn’t sound angry. Your stomach dropped, realizing you had sold yourself out. When you didn’t respond, he took it as more than enough of an answer. A small smile graced his lips, one that was more than unexpected. You didn’t like the look in his eye, like you’d just lit a fire inside him. “I have competition?”

“No, Sam.” You shook your head, shutting it down before he could go any further. “No competition. Not a game, or a race. This isn’t like that.” But he wasn’t listening, already straightening up in his seat with a smirk adorned on his lips, like he’d been waiting to reveal this idea to you, but didn’t know when he should. “Sam,” you warned. He moved his hand from yours, making a move to stand, now. You got up, too, not willing to let him leave without any more conversation. Once you were both standing, he didn’t turn away. Instead, he stepped towards you, brushing your hair from your face. Your heart sped at the sudden contact, not expecting it.

“It’s okay,” he assured you, running his thumb over your cheek. You couldn’t help but lean into him, feeling the same gravitational pull you felt with his brother. Maybe it was a Kiszka thing, or it was just something they had in common. That, you weren’t sure of. You were sure of the heavenly feeling of his hand on you, and how badly you wanted to stay like that, forever. “You can have your fun with him, because I know you’ll end up with me, princess. I’ll make sure of it.” He promised, no tone of joking present within the statement.

“Sam,” you breathed, wanting to put a stop to the situation before it could start. Even so, you couldn’t help but feel your head swirl at the closeness of his face. The scent of incense was still lingering on his clothes even after a long night of drinking, captivating you and pulling you in even further. Through all the similarities you’d noticed between him and his brother, the feeling of their touch was so different. Both fantastic, but so unlike one another. The idea of kissing Sam was almost comforting, like a promise of safety after a long journey. The thought of kissing Jake felt almost forbidden, like it had to be kept a secret, but it was exhilarating. It was a battle of thrill and security; you’d never had much of an issue with it before, but now it seemed impossible to choose.

“Why are you saying my name like that? I haven’t even done anything to deserve it, yet.” He hummed, pulling you into him a little more. You were certain he could sense the effect his words had on you. Your chests were practically pressed together, heartbeats synced and rapid. You were torn, stuck between the satisfaction of finally having him in such a way, and guilt for doing it behind Jakes back. For something you’d been wishing about for so long, it was producing a lot of conflicting emotions.

Unbeknownst to you, Jake was well aware of what was happening in the kitchen. He’d caught on as soon as Sam followed you in there, and he wasn’t mad about it. Anyone with a set of eyes could tell you had feelings for Sam, but he was confident in his ability to win you over, too. Both boys had the same deadly mindset, no worry in their mind that they would lose the game. Their cockiness and determination was leaving them blind to the reality of the situation. Both were so certain they could win you over that they were forgetting they were playing with real emotions, yours and their own.

But, it’s nothing if not human nature to be selfish, and in this specific triad, greed was the only motivator.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You finally said, but you knew you didn’t mean it; there was nothing you wanted more.

“No?” He questioned, using his finger to tilt your chin upwards. “You want me to stop?” You wanted to say yes, to push him away and forget the whole thing ever happened, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength within yourself to do so. His stare was captivating and his touch was invigorating.

“Just kiss me.” You expelled, once again unwilling to think about any consequences. Permission was all he needed to proceed. He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss that was sweet enough to make you forget your worry. It was different than any you’d had before; filled with emotion and not reliant on lust. It was over soon after it started, and unlike the moments you shared with Jake, the ending of the kiss with Sam left you with a feeling of fulfillment and relief. For the first few seconds, at least. Then, a crashing wave of panic followed.

He picked up on your change of demeanour, immediately pulling you into an embrace to soothe the after effects. He held you to him, hand rubbing circles in over your back in attempt to calm you down. “Hey, it’s okay.” He assured you, finally realizing that he may have put a little too much pressure on you. When you didn’t respond, he pulled back to get a look at your face. He wasn’t expecting you to pull him into another kiss, shocked at the suddenness of your actions.

He snaked his hand to your hip, the other cupping your cheek in a loving hold. This one was hungrier, a type of desperation laced within it. He assumed it was for him, but in truth, it was desperation for an answer. You thought if you could pinpoint the exact emotion the kiss produced within you, it would make your choice a lot easier. For a moment, it did. When you pulled away, it seemed like the world made sense again. The comfort from the short moment you shared with him was incomprehensible; something you’d been yearning for forever. The logical thing would be to let Jake go, to understand that at the end of the day, you had real feelings for Sam that had been solidified even further with time. To understand the animalistic nature of your attraction to Jake was just that, and nothing more.

The right way to go about it was to end your entanglement with Jake, and pursue the relationship with Sam. You understood that had this happened just a day sooner, there would be no internal debate or struggle about being with Sam. You had to act based on that, because bouncing between both boys was immoral and wrong. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt either of them, and allowing things to continue as such would only result in a catastrophic failure. But, even as you came to terms with the fact of the matter, you still felt saddened at the thought of losing Jake. You wanted Sam, that much was undeniable, but just within a day, Jake had earned a spot in your heart and didn’t seem to want to leave.

You yearned for the opportunity to be with Sam for so long that you seemed to put him on an untouchable pedestal. One where he was almost angelic and was viewed as if he could do no wrong. That was the issue with crushes, because it always made the subject appear like they were above all else. And, the idea of them was solely based on imagination. Whereas with Jake, you had actually been with him. Your idea of him wasn’t a fallacy; it was more real than anything you had ever shared with Sam. You knew his hands, his mouth, and his ability to bring you to your knees with just a glance. The version of Sam you had in your head was complete fantasy, and the idea of Jake was reality. And because of that, he was settled in your bones like sediment and was weighing you down while you tried to make the right decision.

“You’re evil,” You sighed, looking over his face. He gave a small chuckle in response, still hesitant to let you go.

“I never said I would make it easy on you.” He teased, giving you a smile. “Think about it, princess. You don’t have to give us an answer right now.”

“You’re asking me an impossible question.”

“Not impossible, just difficult.” He corrected, as if it would make you feel any better. “Like I said, I’m not worried.” You fought back an eye-roll at his statement. He was so caught up in his own cockiness to realize you were hurting over it. This was not the position you wanted to be in, and although he wasn’t helping, you had dug your own grave by giving in to temptation for both of them.

The sounds of footsteps in the hallway caused both of you to part, shying away from each other as if you’d committed a crime. You quickly sat back down, burying your face in your cup of coffee to hide your rosy cheeks and guilty expression. Danny and Josh walked into view, almost immediately picking up on the tense nature in the room. Danny looked as if he was about to comment on it, but decided not to. He always seemed to notice when you were acting out of the ordinary. “I think we’re gonna head out. You coming?” He eventually asked Sam. The boy looked to you one last time, but gave a nod. “We’re still on for lunch, tomorrow?” Danny turned his attention to you, now.

“Yeah, of course. I’ll pick you up at 12?”

“Yeah, perfect.” He agreed.

“Thanks for coming over.” You smiled. “I’m sure you’ll be back soon?”

“You can’t get rid of us that easily.” Josh assured you. You bid your goodbyes, eyes following them as they walked towards the front door. You listened for the sound of the door shutting before slumping down into your seat. You pulled your head into your hands, fingers tangling in the roots of your hair and gently pulling at them.

You knew what you had to do, but you wanted to process it before having to face Jake. You could hear the gentle hum of the guitar from the living room, taunting you with serenity. The sound was much too calming for your situation. The idea of joining him in the living room produced nothing but unease within you; knowing you had to go in there and tell him to leave was agonizing, because deep down, you still wanted him to stay. You were completely caught in your own mess but couldn’t find the strength to have sympathy for yourself, knowing you’d created it all on your own. Right vs. Wrong was barely existing within you, because every possibility seemed to be a little bit of both.

You thought that the shared moment with Sam would have solved everything, that it would have made the turmoil make sense. In a strange way, it did. In many more ways, it made it worse. So, you stood, no real plan in mind, and walked to the living room with intent to settle your mistakes, to right them in some sense, even if you weren’t sure how to. When you appeared in the entryway, Jake didn’t even seem to notice your presence. Instead of announcing it, you watched him for a moment, admiring him while you still could. His hair was framing his face, cascading down in a sea of brown and perfectly showcasing his features. His eyes were settled on his hand, gracing the fretboard with their talent. He seemed to be playing so effortlessly, like it was more natural than breathing. You supposed, to him, it was.

You didn’t notice the trance you’d found yourself in until he looked up at you. The simple eye contact was powerful enough to steal the air from your lungs. It only took a smile for you to forget what you’d come to talk to him about. “Alone at last, Gold Dust Woman.”

‘Fuck.’ you thought to yourself. As confident as you were in your decision, your ability to follow through was diminishing more by the second. ‘Damn him and his pretty face.’

“Come to break the bad news?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. Your blood ran cold, unsure of how he knew without you even speaking a word. He gave a small smirk at the expression on your face, wondering if you would come clean or not.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” you said once you’d gathered your thoughts. He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at you.

“I told you, angel. You’re not a very good liar.” He searched beside him, finding the case for the guitar. He unplugged the cord before gently setting the instrument where it belonged.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, unsure of what exactly you were apologizing for. Part of you felt it was because it was a show of guilt for your actions, the other part of you thought it may be because you were ending whatever you’d started with him.

“For?” He questioned, sitting back against the cushion of the couch. In place of an answer, you stared, realizing you still hadn’t made up your mind, despite being certain you had. Maybe it was his aura, so intense and alluring, or perhaps it was due to the unfulfilled promise you had made to each other. Either way, any coherent decision and moral was long gone now that he was in front of you. “Hmm?” You swallowed hard, only focused on his hand resting in his lap. The curious hand that started it all, the one that contained all of his power.

“I, uh…” his eyes never left your face, making your nervous demeanour even worse. He expelled a long breath, almost as if he was annoyed for having to answer for you again.

“Sorry that you were sneaking around with my brother?” He theorized. “Or sorry that you were caught?”

“How did you know?” You finally mustered the strength to speak up. He gave a shrug, one that radiated carelessness. He didn’t give a single shit about what you’d done with Sam, and it was blatantly obvious.

“It’s written all over your face, sweetheart.” He let out a laugh, like he couldn’t believe you were so oblivious to your own stature. “Everyone knows you like Sam, y/n. We’re not blind.”

“So why did you start whatever this is?” You asked, feeling annoyance bubble in your chest. If he was so aware of your feelings, there was no logical reason for him to instigate a relationship with you.

“I can’t give you all of the answers.” He replied, nonchalant and unapologetic for his actions.

“At least give me some!” Your frustration was apparent; both boys had been elusive and indirect about their motives, and it was driving you insane. If their intent was to drive you crazy, it was working. He let out a little sigh, as if your inquiries were an inconvenience.

“You like Sam, Sam likes you.” He stated, as if he were explaining the situation to a child. You clenched your teeth, slowly becoming more angry as he continued on. “I like you, you like me.” He paused again, waiting for confirmation of the fact. You wanted to shut the idea down, deny that you had any interest in him. But, you couldn’t, because it simply wasn’t true. If you had no feelings for Jake, it would have been easy to tell him to leave, to end the debate without a second thought. Instead, you were struggling with the simple idea, let alone the execution. As much as you hated to admit it, you did like Jake, and you liked him way more than you originally thought.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Now we have a level playing field.” He shrugged. “If you’re going to pick between us, it should at least be a fair decision.”

“So you guys decided this on your own?” You couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed at the knowledge, that they’d let you drown in guilt and regret while they knew what was happening the whole time.

“I think you decided it, too, actually.” He explained. “You haven’t told me to leave yet.”

“Okay, leave.” You snipped, crossing your arms over your chest in annoyance. He laughed at your command, finding the bossy persona entertaining.

“Is that really what you want, sweetheart?” The longer you looked at him, the more you felt the urge to strangle him. Something about his air of superiority was insufferable; the nature of his entitlement was off-putting, almost like he knew you were bluffing, even before you did. You couldn’t find the strength to confirm your statement, because the truth was that you were dreading his departure.

The whole situation was ridiculous, completely unnecessary and utterly pointless. In the battle of winning you over, they didn’t seem to realize that they were only pitting themselves against each other. The promise of affection from you simply wasn’t enough to excuse the loss of their relationship, and you wanted them to understand that before they took it too far. You were well aware of how dangerous the game was, but even so, you were enjoying it despite the fact. Something about being loved by a Kiszka was euphoric, and to have it from both of them was more than enough of a reason to ignore any potential consequences.

“This isn’t a good idea, Jake.” You whispered.

“It’s a better idea than one of us sitting back and suffering in silence. We both have a fair shot, now.” You shook your head, baffled at his inability to see the issue. “We know what we’re doing, angel.” He promised. “Now, tell me the truth. Do you really want me to leave?” You felt dirty even holding a desire for him to stay. The idea of being pursued by both brothers was thrilling, but unsettling, especially knowing that it was bound to be a catastrophe. Knowing that they were aware of the situation and were actively trying to win you over was no comfort; all it served was a reminder that they were obviously not thinking clearly. You knew you should shut it down, stop it before anything bad could happen, but that pull he possessed was stronger than ever. You felt like you were gravitating towards him without even realizing it, with no means to stop it.

He stood, now, slowly making his way towards you. The gentle nature of his movements were like a cloud of a reassurance, a silent promise that he would take care of you and aid you in forgetting any of the worries you had. It was their charm in action once again; both of them had the ability to make you see past even the worst of decisions. The air surrounding him even radiated with a sense of calmness, like everything would be okay as long as he was around.

As his hands landed on your hips, your eyes fluttered closed at the feeling. Morally, you knew you should have recoiled, shied away from his touch and told him to leave. You came in with the intent to do so, and still hadn’t let go of the nagging thought. Then again, you felt the same way when Sam was touching you like so. Afterwards, you seemed to have a new found sense of clarity. You thought that the clarity might make a reappearance if you kissed Jake, that the decision would be so much easier if you allowed it one last time. That way, you could have an unbiased opinion on both feelings, and make a plan accordingly. You repeated that thought in your head until you believed it.

Once again, you’d failed to see the repercussions of your actions, blinded by your own stupidity and lack of self-control. In no world was allowing the kiss an intelligent decision. But, you wanted him so badly that in the moment, it seemed only right to do so. The devil was a master at his own game, and you’d fallen right into his trap. As certain as you may have been about your course of action upon your arrival, deep down you knew that Jake would never let you go so easily. “You should go, Jake.” You managed to get the words out, despite not wanting to say them. He was close enough that you could practically feel the warmth radiating off him. His face was just close enough to taunt you, his lips so easily accessible that it was hard to think of anything else.

“I didn’t ask if I should, I asked if you wanted me to leave.” He reminded, the low hum of his voice vibrating through you. You took in a long breath, keeping your eyes closed in hopes it would help you to follow through with your statement. “Because if I remember correctly, you were the one who wanted me to stay.”

“That was before everything got complicated.” You said, barely speaking loud enough for him to hear.

“I don’t think it’s complicated at all, angel.” He lifted a hand to your face, cupping your cheek with the utmost care and caution. Your heart was pounding against your ribs, stomach twisted in a knot, knowing that if you didn’t put a stop to his antics, you’d end up in the same position as you were the night prior. “I made you a promise, and I intend to keep it.” The devil inside you was partnering with the one that was possessing him, pushing you further into his arms. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You did; you’d been starving for it since he’d given you the first taste. Even if it was wrong, the temptation was too high to turn him away. “You’re despicable,” you breathed, finding the truth of the statement proper for both brothers. Relentless and utterly despicable in their charm.

“You like it.” He taunted, knowing all too well that he was correct. He awaited a verbal answer, but the time for talking was through. Before he could get another word out, you leaned forward and closed the gap between your mouths. As much as he was hoping for the outcome, he was shocked at the suddenness of your motion. It only took him a few seconds to catch up to speed, pulling you into him and responding with as much enthusiasm as you were giving him. The internal struggle you were caught up in was immediately silenced; the only thing that mattered was him, and how you never wanted to forget how it felt to have him on your skin.

When you broke away from each other, you were too far gone to take a moment to reassess the situation, only thinking about the promises of the night prior. There was no more debate on whether he should leave. The thought of not finishing what you had started was unbearable; the idea of his departure was excruciating. You decided that you could decide later, that the damage was already done and you were only allowing yourself to be fully educated before picking your path. You could wallow in your guilt later, but for the moment, Jake was the only thing you could think about.

The human ability to overlook pain for momentary pleasure is abstruse.

“Still want me to leave?” He asked, breathless from the kiss. Although yes was the best answer to his question, you were aware that he wouldn’t even make it to the door before you were chasing after him.

“Shut up,” you snapped, still annoyed from the events that unfolded, and on edge from the pent up sexual tension. His grip on you tightened at the harsh words, picking up on your energy and preparing to match it. “Are you going to finish what you started?”

“Don’t expect to speak to me like that and get what you want.” He warned, lips still hovering over your own. You didn’t cower under the authority, too worked up to submit just yet.

“You can’t walk away either, and you know it.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.” He muttered. He knew he wouldn’t, but he absolutely could if he wanted to. He’d mustered the strength to do it once, and he knew he could do it again. Instead of continuing the bickering, you snaked your hand around to the back of his neck and pulled him into another kiss. It was needy, both of you trying to make up for the state you left each other in the night before. A messy struggle ensued, a battle of trying to remove each others clothes without breaking a kiss.

He managed to free you from your shirt, only breaking away from you for a second. You took the opportunity to do the same to him, wasting no time returning back to each other. Now his hands had the opportunity to roam your upper body; the feeling of him on you was better than you remembered it, perhaps because you were sober, or maybe just because you wanted him so badly. It didn’t really matter which it was, you only cared about him never stopping. He guided you towards the couch, neither of you bothered by the fact you were still in the living room. You had both come to the conclusion that the bedroom was too far away and were content with the current location.

Once you were secure on the sofa, he hooked his fingers through the sides of your shorts, pulling them off in a swift motion. There was no more willingness to wait, you were both starving for each other. He settled between your legs, reminding you so strikingly of the night prior that you were almost scared he would leave again. Your worry subsided when his hands returned to your body, knowing no other thought could override how he was making you feel. His lips curiously drifted over every available part of you, remembering every sensitive spot while he used the gesture to appreciate you all at the same time.

You could tell his patience had greatly diminished since the night before. He seemed less concerned with teasing, focused more on catching you up to his speed than anything else. In that moment, you understood just how hard it was for him to walk away from you. His plan had worked; you hadn’t stopped thinking about him once, but he achieved it at a price. His determination for the long game had faltered, and he was caught in your web just as much as you were in his. His silence spoke volumes, proving further that fucking you had been the only thing on his mind.

His fingers slipped between your legs, the act as natural as breathing for him. He took a moment to appreciate the arousal that had begun to pool, but didn’t hover too long. His thumb found its way to your clit, barely applying any pressure. Even so, the small action caused your breath to hitch in your throat. A hard realization washed over you; his hands didn’t only posses such power when you were drunk and everything seemed fantastic. You were sober, no diminished inhibitions and all normal brain power restored, and he still felt better than anything you had ever experienced. The devil inside him was constant, not encouraged by intoxication or any other means. The version of Jake you knew from the night before was the same one in front of you, now. You were gutted at the thought, knowing that liquor didn’t have any effect on the situation; he was just as charming, and you were just as willing to fall for it.

He gradually increased the pressure of his thumb, the small action quickly turning you into a mess below him. He barely had to touch you to drive you crazy. He watched your face, intent on seeing every micro-expression you were willing to make. He had yet to speak a word, and you almost didn’t want him to. As good as he made you feel, there was a part of you that was still pissed off at him. You continued to tell yourself that this was solely to settle the score, to finish what you started and move on, but you knew it wasn’t true. The intense emotions incurring within you were a direct result of his minuscule actions. Without a doubt, that told you that whatever your situation was, it wouldn’t end with your orgasm. It was far beyond sex, now. If it was just a hookup, or just for the sake of sex, you would have no issue telling him to leave. If you wanted to hook up with someone, all you had to do was go to the nearest bar. Whatever this was, was laced with emotion and coated with complexity. Even with his hands on you so intimately, you were terrified of him walking out the door.

When his fingers slipped inside you once more, you were ashamed to admit that the thought of Sam was long gone. Whatever evil Jake was doing, he was doing it unfathomably well. The spell he casted over you made it impossible to think of anything other than him, and it was terrifying. You knew that even with the knowledge of a future filled with suffering, that moment made it all worth it. The things you were willing to do to keep having him like this was despicable, and they made you feel dirty for even thinking such a way. But, as you grew to understand in the last twenty-four hours, Jake was inescapable, and part of you was okay with that. As much as it made the nature of your predicament so much more complicated, it radiated an air of comfort. That was another revelation that made your decision so much harder; the thought of cutting him off was unbearable, but the idea of continuing on as such was anxiety inducing. No matter which way you looked at it, every possibility seemed terrible.

“Does that feel good, angel?” The gravelly tone immediately stopped any forebodings before they could surface. In an instant, just with a few words, he had you completely immersed in his being once more. His caring nature seemed to be genuine, but there was a distant look in his eye that made you second guess the sincere impression. You thought maybe it was a question pertaining to his ego, and the idea did not take you as a surprise in the slightest. Still, with how generous his actions were, you had no problem feeding into him a little bit.

“Feels so good, baby.” You sighed, reaching down and cupping his cheek in your palm. The pet name seemed to spark a fire in him, his eyes darkening and his jaw clenching. He took in a long breath through his nose, seeming to relax him and allow him to focus back on his objective. He sped his movements slightly, letting his thumb brush over your clit with every pump of his fingers. “God, please don’t stop.” You whined, back arching off the cushion of the couch begging for just a bit more contact.

“Being so good for me, baby.” He stated, his mind clearly fully immersed in your face. “You know I’ll give you whatever you want.” And he wasn’t lying, although the terms were subjective and almost always his own. You had little say on when you could get what you wanted. Still, you knew that anything at all from Jake was well worth the world, even if you had to suffer first. “You gonna cum for me?” He asked, picking up on the furrow of your eyebrows, the slight part in your lips and the laboured breathing. Even if he’d only seen the expression once before, he could recognize it anywhere. It hadn’t left his mind.

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered, eyes squeezed shut and the burning in the pit of your stomach growing more intense with every second that passed. You both knew it wouldn’t take much more, but you were afraid he would pull away before you could. Jake’s arrogance left you constantly on edge, wondering if his words were true or laced with deception. Not in a terrible, untrustworthy way, but in a sense so minor that it made you second guess yourself, slowly driving you insane and leaving you begging for more. He’d never lie to you about anything important, but he was quite keen on being an asshole in the bedroom. That was part of his whole wicked agenda. You were certain he only harnessed such a persona to keep you guessing what his next move was, to keep you on his hook.

“Come on, angel.” He encouraged. The three words sent a rush of relief through you, settling the fear and letting you know he wanted it just as badly. He didn’t have to work much harder, because within a few seconds you were coming undone. It was a mess of heavy breathing and slurs of moans decorated with his name. He coaxed you through it, soaking up every detail of the experience as he watched you. “So beautiful,” he breathed, muttering the words to himself as you came down from the high. You would have missed his statement if you had not been immersed in every word and action he gave. Another rush of emotion ran through you, but this one was different than the normal feeling of arousal he usually produced within you. It was endearing, the type of statement that made your cheeks heat with a blush and a smile fight its way onto your lips. It was genuine, and you were certain you could live a lifetime surviving solely off of compliments from him.

He made a move to stand, sending you into a panic, worried he would decide he was going to leave again. He gave a small chuckle at your expression as he steadied himself on his feet. “Don’t leave.” You sat up, head still buzzing from the intensity of the orgasm. You planted your palms on the cushion of the couch to keep yourself upright. “Please.”

“I’m not, baby. Don’t worry.” He reached out, guiding your chin upwards with his hand so he could get a good look at your face. The worry in your eyes was evident, but the sincerity in his face rivalled it. You gave a small nod, opting to trust him. Your eyes drifted downwards, settling on the bulge in his jeans. He was clearly worked up himself, maybe even more than you were. He released his gentle hold on your face to undo his belt. You took in a long breath, trying to keep your excitement from showing to much.

He tossed the belt to the side, continuing his work at freeing himself from his pants. When his jeans and boxers were discarded on the floor, you bit down on the inside of your lip to keep yourself from letting out a gasp. He stood, fully exposed in front of you, and even more attractive than you could have imagined. You were no stranger to the fact that Jake was beautiful, but the sight before you was breathtaking. His cock was eye level with you, tip red and glistening with pre-cum, and even larger than anticipated. Your mouth was practically watering, and you felt your arousal growing more by the second. You reached out, grabbing his hand and pulling him a little closer to you. Before he could comprehend what you were doing, you had slipped off the couch and onto your knees in front of him.

You took him into your mouth, and although he wasn’t expecting it, it was more than welcomed. The relief he felt from the small act was quite evident. He let out a low groan, bringing his hand to the back of your head and gathering your hair. He kept a gentle hold on the strands, not enough to cause you any discomfort, but enough for you to know that he was still in control. You slowly worked yourself up to speed, focusing on the head for a moment before gaining the confidence to take him further. He didn’t push you, content with anything you were willing to give him. Despite his silence on the matter, he was desperate for you, too. After you familiarized yourself with him, your need for him grew. You relaxed your jaw, allowing easier access, and took him as far as you could. Once the feeling became less foreign, you started at a steady pace.

His grip in your hair tightened and his breathing sped, a sure sign that he thought you were doing a good job. “Fuck, y/n.” He groaned, doing his best to stop himself from thrusting in time with your movements. “Doing such a good job, angel.” He didn’t want to push you, but you were both at the point of forgoing any gentle nature. The pent-up frustration from recent events were coming to an explosive climax; any and all formalities of the first time were no longer needed, and the lust was driving you both feral for each other. Your gaze fluttered up to meet his face, your stature refusing to falter. When he caught your eyes, it looked as though it flipped a switch inside of him. His jaw hardened, stare narrowing and the hold on your hair grew tighter still. He pulled you off him for a moment, taking a second to catch his breath.

When your eyes connected, it was almost as if an unspoken agreement was made. As if he’d turned into a whole different person, an aura of dominance surrounded him with just a slight expression change. “Tap my leg twice if you want me to stop.” He ordered. You gave a nod, understanding that you were giving up any control you had previously. If it was anyone else, you might have been nervous to do so, but not with Jake. As much as he could piss you off by times, you trusted him in every sense of the word. “I need to hear the words.”

“I will.” You promised, assuring him you would be honest. He looked over your face for any sign of discomfort, but he was met with an excited expression. With that confirmation, any loving undertone in his concern disappeared. He roughly guided your head back to its earlier position, the tip of his cock resting on your lips. You had to take a second to process the sudden change, but wasn’t fast enough for his liking.

“Open.” He snapped. Your shock over the harsh word was evident, but the change was welcomed. You felt a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, excited at the change in pace. You did as he asked, and he wasted no time taking advantage of the compliance. He started slower than you anticipated, but it didn’t last for long. Once you had adjusted to him once more, he held your head in place and set his own pace with his hips. You did your best to keep up with him, trying to steady your breaths and relax your muscles as much as you could. You had confidence in your ability, but you had to admit that it wasn’t an easy task. If he decided to push you further, you knew it was a possibility that you would have trouble taking his whole length, especially at such a pace. Still, you persevered, knowing that pleasing him was just as, if not more pleasurable than getting off yourself.

“You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He growled. The blunt statement settling inside you, weighing you down like concrete had replaced your bones. The filthy praise was exhilarating, almost sending you into another orgasm from the sound alone. The new rush of arousal that took over you was primal, all fear of underperformance disappearing instantly. You reached your hand between your legs, fingers immediately finding your clit. You desperately searched for some sort of relief while he used you as he pleased.

The whole display was obscene, certainly not where you had expected to end up when you first joined him in the living room. Still, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be upset at the shift in plan. As immoral as it was, having sex with Jake seemed to ignite a whole new part of you that you weren’t sure even existed before. After years of lighthearted flings with boys who tried too hard to act like men, you believed sex was never going to be wholeheartedly enjoyable. Instead, it felt more like a chore by times. Just one night with Jake had you rethinking the entire belief, and now experiencing it again solidified the fact that you were wrong. Never in your life had you been so elated to be wrong about something.

As Jake noticed where your hand ended up, the knowledge seemed to fuel him further. As he fucked your mouth, he used his hand to push your head down in time with his thrusts. Even though you were content with the action, you had to admit that it was a little hard to handle. Your eyes were watering and you fought back a gag with every movement of his hips. You kept his words in mind, knowing that if you wanted him to stop, he would in a heartbeat. You decided you could keep up for a little while longer, mostly because you believed he wouldn’t be able to maintain his pace for any length of time. His breathing was ragged, he was glistening with sweat, and the moans slipping from his lips were pornographic. If he didn’t slow down, you were certain he was going to cum.

One particularly deep thrust caught you off guard, causing the gag you’d been holding back to surface. Your throat constricted around him while a few tears involuntarily slipped down your cheek. In your messy state, you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. Before you had time to worry if he was going to orgasm or not, he withdrew from you completely. It took him a moment before he moved or spoke. He had to calm himself down before you moved on to something new. After a few deep breaths, he carefully released his hold on your hair. His hand drifted to your cheek and he used his thumb to wipe away the stray tears that still lingered on your skin. Then, he guided your chin upwards so you he could fully see your face. He took in the sight, wishing he could sear it into his memory.

“Such a good girl,” he hummed, eyes flickering down to your hand between your legs. “Do you like being a little whore for me?” You watched him, wide-eyed and unsure of how to answer. You felt frozen, stopping your hands movement completely, wondering knowing if he wanted a verbal answer or if it was a trick question. His hand cupped your chin, settling it in the space between his thumb and index finger. When you didn’t respond, his fingers tightened against your cheeks, trying to pry a response from you. “Answer me,” his voice was low, but demanding.

“Yes,” you nodded against his grip.

“Yes, what?” You studied him for a moment, trying to pinpoint his desire. When you caught his eye, the answer seemed to come to you with ease.

“Yes, Sir.” You said, confidently. Although he wanted to keep his demeanour firm, you couldn’t help but notice that the corners of his lips upturned ever so slightly. You could both feel the connection; how easy it was to read each other, how easy it was to please each other.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He muttered, loosening his grip on your face. “You liked it so much you couldn’t even wait for me to touch you?” Redness sprawled across your face at the question, suddenly embarrassed at the act of desperation. You quickly moved your hand, but the feeling of shame remained. “Don’t be shy, angel. S’okay.” He assured you, settling the unease that had risen within you. “Why don’t you let me help you out?” Your eyes fluttered closed, already imagining the feeling of him between your thighs again. After the thought passed, you thought it best to answer before he could change his mind.

“Yes, please.” You breathed. He let go of your face, reaching for you hand. You accepted the gesture and let him help you off the ground, noticing the ache in your knees from the hard floor.

He guided you to the couch once more, never straying from you as you sat down. He didn’t speak another word before he sunk down to his knees. He settled between your legs so naturally, like it was where he had always belonged and he’d been grievously suffering from homesickness. He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the cushion as he guided your legs over his shoulders. As he placed soft kisses to the sensitive skin of your thighs, you felt your upper body melt back into the sofa. You were excited for the next activity, but something about the gentle touch was soothingly sweet. “What have you done to me?” He mumbled, but you could feel him smiling against your skin. You reached down, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tone breathy from the closeness of his mouth to your heat.

“You’ve got me on my knees for you.” He let out a small chuckle, fingers grazing over your hips as he continued to litter marks over your thighs. “You didn’t even have to try.” You swallowed hard at the statement, realizing how quick and willing he was to abide to the change. You were both aware he was still in control, but it seemed as if he’d give you whatever you wanted with the snap of your fingers, now.

“I like it,” you smiled, the knowledge of his soft spot for you swelling your ego slightly. You knew he liked it too, even if he’d never admit it.

“I’d stay here all day if I could.” He confessed.

“Yeah?” You pressed.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Waited all day, couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you taste.” With that, he brought his mouth to your cunt, not willing to wait for any type of response. You let a gasp out, an involuntary response to the feeling of his tongue on you again. His hands were talented beyond measure, but his mouth held power like no other; you were certain that if heaven was real, whatever was waiting for you beyond this lifetime was barely comparable to the euphoria Jake bestowed upon you. He ran his tongue through you, finally getting a taste of what he’d been doing to you. He let out a hum of appreciation, the small sound instantly sending a wave of pleasure through you.

You let your eyes flutter closed, enjoying the sensation as much as possible. When he’d gone down on you the first time, you believed there could be no greater pleasure. Now, you knew you were wrong. Your sobriety allowed you to fully immerse yourself in the moment, and it was better than anything you thought you felt the night prior. He started slow, taking his time really appreciate you. As much as he was pleasuring you, he was enjoying himself, too. Once he satisfied his need to tease you, he pulled back for a moment. “All of this for me, beautiful?” He asked, a small sigh sounding from him. You looked down, eyes casting over his face and soaking up his expression. He looked as if he’d just been gifted the opportunity of a lifetime to have you like this.

“All for you, baby.” You agreed, breathless just at the sight of him. His eyes fluttered closed at the sound of such a beautiful statement. He seemed as though he wanted to speak again, but couldn’t resist the temptation of what was in front of him. He pulled you down a little more, leaning forward to meet the motion. His tongue found your clit with an expert precision, like it was second nature to him. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the feeling of his fingers searing into your skin was overwhelming. You’d never admit it to him, but he already had you on the brink of an orgasm.

Without moving his mouth from you, he freed one of his arms from under your leg and guided it further to the side. The change in position couldn’t even take your mind off of the spell he was casting on you with his tongue. As if he thought he wasn’t already doing enough, he slipped his middle and ring finger inside you, gently curling his fingers upward as he did so. A guttural moan sounded from your lips, completely impossible to hold back. Your fingers tightened against the roots of his hair, a silent show of appreciation for his effort. The sound only seemed to drive him further as he placed his lips around your clit. As his fingers pumped into you, keeping the same momentum, he ever so slightly suctioned his cheeks.

With the curl of his fingers and the growing pressure on your clit, you were having a hard time keeping yourself quiet. Every movement seemed to coax another sound from you, in which he used for more motivation. He knew exactly how he was making you feel, and he was determined to continue doing so. He was encouraging you with his actions, and if he could, he’d be giving you all the praise in the world. To him, there was no better sound than the ones you were making for him. The knot forming in your belly was growing tighter by the second, both of you certain that your climax would come soon. In his true generous nature, he couldn’t find it within himself to deprive you of the feeling.

Within a few seconds of steady stimulation from both his hand and his mouth, you were coming undone below him. Profanities were slurred into the air, your grip on him tightened, and all of your muscles grew tense. Your chest heaved with shaky breaths you so badly wanted to take, but were struggling to find. The orgasm was intense, one that topped any other that came before. It was long, drawn out even further by his unwillingness to slow down. By the time the peak had passed, you had no time to recover before being thrown into another, more intense phase. He’d let up on the pressure on your clit, but his tongue had returned at a steady rhythm. His fingers were still pumping into you, hitting the sweet spot that he had found and refused to give up.

The normal post-orgasm overstimulation was quite unlike this one; it was unpleasant, mostly, and would usually cause a person to shy away from touch. The feeling that came over you while he continued was new, intense and searing through every nerve in your body, but not uncomfortable. The gentle nature of his movements were pleasurable in a whole new sense. He barely had to work for another climax. You thought that maybe it had to do with how badly your body had been craving him, how desperate you had been for his touch. It was the logical answer, but the more pressing idea was hard to overlook. The one that told you Jake was just that good. That whatever entity controlled him, or whatever entity he was, could make the most painful situations seem pleasant.

His ability to pleasure you without knowing anything about your body was unfathomable, like he’d been born solely for the purpose. Every touch was exhilarating, ever glance or expression was laced with deeper meaning, and every word was coated with a type of emotion you couldn’t fake. As much as you wanted to believe that he was possessed by the devil, you had to find a more logical explanation, but one that came to mind was much less of a comfort than the initial belief. As he guided you into another orgasm with the grace of an angel, your heart ached at the newest revelation your mind had presented.

Jake knew you so well, could pinpoint every lie and pick up on any hidden emotion, knew exactly how to please you, and knew exactly how to draw you in for one simple reason; he’d been watching you, the same way you had been watching Sam. He studied every minor detail that nobody else cared to look for, and instead of you noticing his distant admiration, you were caught up in loving his brother, who in turn was doing the same to you. The twisted nature of the situation had not begun the night before because of too much vodka and a game of beer pong. The situation had been begging to be resolved for a long time, the universe imploring someone to make a move, just to end the tireless circle of suffering. Jake was in love with you, and you were in love with Sam, and nobody picked up on the sorrow until you had all had enough.

You tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t true, that you hadn’t hurt Jake the same way his brother had been hurting you, but it was impossible to convince yourself otherwise. He even said it himself, before you found yourself in a mess of tangled limbs and unspoken truths. He liked you, and it hadn’t begun when you partnered up for a friendly match of pong. It had been blooming for a long time. The lesson you’d been dreading with Sam had manifested itself into one big lecture, now coming from every angle. And, as everyone knows, the karmic tendencies of the universe had never been forgiving. Instead of learning about what the world intended for you to know, you ignored it until it was too late. Your karma was exactly where you were in that moment; still in love with Sam, but undoubtedly falling for Jake, too. Whether that be in lust or love, you didn’t know. Instead of making the easy choice and facing up to the facts when they first arose, you now had a long road of difficult decisions ahead, and you didn’t want to let go of either feeling.

Before you could dwell any deeper about your profound regrets and emotions, a jolt of pleasure ran through you, stronger than the ones previous. Through the overstimulation, Jake had pried yet another orgasm from you at the most malicious time possible.

“F-fuck!” You expelled, head falling back deeper into the cushion. You were clenching around his hand, the burning in your stomach unwilling to settle. Your legs were shaking, hand keeping an iron grip on his hair while you cried out his name. He tapered his speed, slowing down so you could catch your breath for a moment.

“That’s it, angel.” His voice vibrated through you, making every bit of pleasure just a little more intense. “Such a good girl. Doing so good for me.” The words, the orgasm, the caring aura he was radiating were all more than enough to make a person fall in love, but emotions were the last thing you wanted to think about. After only a day, you were exhausted over stressing about the future and refusing to enjoy the present moment. So, without any fear of what was to come next, you leaned forward, pulling his head towards you at the same time, and brought him into a kiss. It was needy, sloppy, and not really well executed, but you didn’t care. You wanted access to every inch of him, finally submitting to the part of you begging to be consumed by him.

The devil doesn’t bargain; merely coerces you to see things his way, and he wanted you to believe that the worst decisions felt the best.

Jake broke the kiss, quickly moving to the spot beside you on the couch. You didn’t have time to process the change before he was scooping his arm under you and pulling you on top of him. You let your legs settle on either side of him, content with the new position. He guided your face back down to his, already yearning for another kiss. As your mouths were connected, he used one of his hands to lightly tap your ass, imploring you to sit up a little more. You obliged, feeling him reach under you to line himself up with your entrance. Instead of pulling you down onto him, he pulled back from the kiss.

“You okay?” He checked in, a bit breathless.

“Yeah,” you nodded, no promise ever holding as much truth as that one. He waited a moment, just to give you enough time to change your mind if you wanted to. When he was met with a staggering silence and a hopeful gleam in your eye, he used his hands to guide your hips down on his cock.

When he bottomed out inside you, you both let out a mutual sigh of relief. The feeling was long overdue, and you were growing impatient with the lack of movement almost instantly. He took one of his hands and cupped your cheek, his fingers tangling in the hair that was hanging over your face. He let his thumb dance over the soft skin, silently begging you to look at him. Your eyes drifted towards his face, but you almost wished they hadn’t. The expression he adorned was far more alluring than anything you had ever seen. It was so beautiful that you wished you could live in that moment for the rest of your life. It was excruciating.

Captivated in his face, you slowly began to rock your hips, giving both of you the pleasure you had been craving. The hand that remained on your hip tightened, fingers digging into your skin in the most delicious way. He moved his other hand to the back of your neck, pulling you towards him. You rested your forehead on his, basking in the intimacy. Although the softness was unexpected, you were thoroughly enjoying being so close to him. You steadied yourself with a palm on his shoulder, your other hand clasped around his arm that was holding you to him. “Does that feel good, angel?” He asked, voice low and full of lust. “This is what you wanted?”

“God, yes.” You groaned, the feeling of him inside you amplified even further by the sound of his voice. With every roll of your hips, he used extra force to bring you down onto him, just for an added effect of pleasure. The tip of his cock was hitting your cervix as you moved, making up for the slow pace by intensifying the sensation.

“I could fuck you all day,” he muttered, tightening his grip on you a bit more. “All of those pretty noises, those pretty faces… you’re driving me crazy, y/n.” He confessed, taking a sharp intake of breath as you sunk down on him again. “Feel so fucking good.” His hand snaked down to your back, pulling your body closer to him. You straightened yourself up, bracing your hand on the back of the couch for better support.

Your chest was now eye level with him, and in his true nature, he couldn’t pass up an opportunity. He ghosted a few kisses over your collarbones, gently sucking marks into the delicate skin, and even leaving a gentle bite when the moment permitted. He worked his way down to your breasts, pulling a hardened nipple into his mouth. The new sensation was overwhelming, making your eyelids flutter closed and your head to fall back in bliss. Being loved by Jake in any way was blissful, and how you were feeling was reflective of the thoughts that had already been swarming your head. Before you could succumb to any more ponderings, he gently bit down on the nipple he had been focusing on, causing you to let out a sharp gasp of shock. You could feel him smiling against you as you did so, forcing an eye-roll from you. He was still an asshole, but it was oddly charming. You couldn’t find it within yourself to be annoyed with him.

Instead, you upped your antics, rolling your hips faster and coming down on him harder. The new pace made it impossible to hold back any noises, the room filled with slurs of moans and the sound of skin on skin. You could tell he was enjoying it, too. The low groans that were muted by his mouth on you only drove you to work harder. Knowing you were pleasing him was orgasm-inducing. His fingertips were searing into your skin, his hold equivalent to that of someone who was taking life-saving measures. You were both worked up, your bodies begging you to succumb to the orgasms you so desperately wanted. Neither of you were willing to end such a fantastic moment so soon, one that had been bound to happen for a length of time. You wanted it to last forever, even if it was impossible. The thought of living in the cloud of bliss he was consuming you with was a comfort, almost as if nothing could ever go wrong as long as he never left.

“Baby,” he breathed, making an attempt to slow your hips but failing miserably. As much as he wanted to hold back, he was too far gone to slow down. “Gotta slow down, m’gonna cum.” He warned. The burning in the pit of your stomach reached a new level, his words only driving you to go faster. You knew it wouldn’t be long before you came undone, too. When you showed no sign of stopping, his head fell back into the couch cushion in a show of defeat. “Y/n.” He let out another warning, but it was too late. With a few more seconds of continuous movement, you had reached your peak. Your fingers grasped at him, holding yourself up as you cried his name. Your climax seemed to break the willpower he possessed. He brought both hands to your hips, muttering a few curses as he came, too.

“Fuck, Jake.” You moaned, trying to ride the high for as long as you could. As your hips came to a stop, you expected a whirlwind of comfort, for him to hold you close and enjoy the bare intimacy of the post-orgasm low. Instead, it was as if a new man were below you. In one swift motion, he shifted and roughly laid you down on the couch without ever withdrawing. As if it were instinct, you wrapped your legs around him, an invitation for whatever he was doing. When you caught sight of his eyes, you realized the soft Jake you’d seen previously had dissipated. The persona was replaced by a feral look, sex-crazed and angry with his loss of control.

“You don’t know how to fucking listen?” He growled, looking over your face for a hint of discomfort. Your features held shock, but no doubt that you wanted to continue. He used a free hand to arrange a throw pillow by your head, ensuring your comfortability despite his annoyance. “I told you, sweetheart, you don’t get to call the shots.” He reminded.

“M’sorry, sir.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed that you’d pissed him off so badly, but when you looked deep enough into his eyes, you could tell his facade was just as such: an act. He wasn’t willing to walk away from you so soon, orgasm or not. You hadn’t really derailed any plans, because he’d already been certain he’d fuck you for as long as he possibly could.

“Are you?” He pried, supporting his weight on the cushion below you. The new position was delightful; he had never looked more ethereal than when he was on top of you. “Or are you just saying it because you want me to let you cum again?”

“I mean it.” You promised, completely entranced by his beauty. He was having a hard time keeping the tough exterior up, watching you look at him with so much admiration. Behind the act, he was looking at you just the same.

“Prove it, then. Be a good girl for me, okay?” He said. “Can you do that, angel?” You gave a nod, but realized your mistake before he could chastise you for it.

“Yes, I can, sir.” You promised.

“I know you can, baby.” He hummed. “You know your colours?” You watched him for a moment, waiting for him to speak again. “Green means you’re okay, yellow means slow down, red means stop.”

“Okay.” You agreed.

“If you can’t talk, tap me twice.” He said. Your eyebrows furrowed, questions blooming in your mind more by the second. Before you had a chance to ask any, he withdrew and slammed his hips back into you with a force that made your head spin. You let an involuntary yelp out, shocked at his suddenness, but he paid no mind to it. He was already focused on keeping his strength and his pace the same, not worried about anything else unless you were to tell him to stop.

A guttural groan sounded from you, the new angle he was hitting sending waves of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You were certain that there was nobody in the world who could make you feel that good, because you’d never experienced anything like it before. The noises you were making were filthy, absolutely sinful, and he was loving every second of it. Once you had grown used to his thrusts, he used his free hand to reach down between your bodies and find your clit again. He did so with ease, barely even struggling to keep his hand in place as he moved his hips. The added stimulation was enough to push you close to the edge again, and he barely had to work for it. Then again, he barely had to work for any of the orgasms so far. You thought, if there was such a thing as an expert at sex, he would take the crown.

You were already sensitive from the previous climaxes, making his job that much easier. He couldn’t help but let a cocky smirk grace his face, knowing he already had you where he wanted you to be. Your eyes were closed, the pleasure too much to keep them open and focused on anything. Your stomach was burning, head spinning, and lungs aching from the inability to catch your breath. “Not yet, baby.” He warned, knowing you were teetering on the edge.

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, hoping he wouldn’t make you hold it back.

“You can.” He snapped, not letting up on either of his movements.

“Jake,” you whined, not wanting to disobey the order but knowing you might not be able to control it.

“Shut up.” He hissed, applying a bit more pressure to your clit with his thumb. You clenched your teeth, a violent growl sounding from your chest at your frustration. He couldn’t expect to keep up his pace and not let you cum; the two did not coincide with each other. His request was unreasonable, but you tried your best to comply. You bit down on the inside of your lip, a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the orgasm that was so desperate to be had. It worked for a moment, the pain taking away your focus from his antics. Next was breathing, you focused your breaths to be steady, internally coaxing yourself through the process.

After a few agonizing moments, you were a mess. All of the coping techniques were useless, and you were seconds away from cumming. “Jake, I can’t.” You said again, more serious this time. He knew you weren’t joking; the redness of your cheeks and the glisten of sweat on your forehead was a dead giveaway. When he didn’t respond, you gave up hope that you could push through.

“Cum for me, baby.” He demanded. The four words were the most beautiful ones you’d ever heard. In a mess of moans that resembled more like screams, you came undone once more. Your legs locked around him tighter than before, limiting his movements as you submitted to the pleasure. As you came down, he slowly removed his thumb from you, but didn’t slow his hips. The loss of contact made it easier to deal with the overstimulation from the sensitivity. “Does that feel better?” He crooned, but his tone did not match his movement. His soft voice was an oxymoron to the power behind his hips.

“Mhm,” you managed to give him a sound of agreement, but your brain was only focused on the feeling of him inside you. It felt fantastic, but was beginning to border on pain as continued at the relentless speed. Even so, it was a phenomenal experience, and you never wanted him to stop.

“Such a pretty little whore,” he managed out amidst a moan of his own, clearly getting himself off to the state you were in. Another groan tore through you, the only way you could express your delight at his filthy nickname. Words were unable to form in your brain, any complex thought completely disappeared and was only replaced with his name. His existence was suffocating, but you loved it. It was so wonderful that you almost felt the need to thank him, even if it was slowly killing you. “Give me one more, baby. You can do it.” He attempted to sound demanding, but he was pleading with you. You were surprised he had the stamina to continue so steadily, but you knew he was getting close to another orgasm, too.

“I don’t know,” you cried, genuinely believing you had no more to give him. He took the hand that had been anchored beside you, and slowly trailed his fingers up your body. He focused on your nipple for a moment, gently pinching it and rolling it between his fingers. The feeling caused your or arch your back off the couch, allowing him deeper access to you if it was even possible. He moved on from your breast, but not after palming it and gently squeezing it in his hand. He had been so focused on pleasing you that you couldn’t even chastise him for it; the simple joy he got from the action allowed you to look past the boyish nature.

“You can, sweet girl.” He encouraged. The change from the term sweetheart was new, but very charming. The adoration laced within the words was enough to ignite the fire in you again. His hand drifted upwards still, landing gently on your neck. The touch was welcomed, but he was cautious about your comfort. “Colour.”

“Green.” You assured him.

“Remember what I said?”

“Tap twice.” He gave a nod, happy with your answer. With that, his fingers began to close on your neck, slowly but surely cutting off the blood supply to your head.

“Come on, angel.” He gave the small statement of motivation, hoping it would help you get there. Part of it was because he was desperate to see you cum again, finding it more addictive than any substance. The other part was because he was close, and he refused to give in until he was certain he’d done everything he could to please you. Your head was spinning, not dangerously enough to cause concern, but enough to heighten the insatiable fire coursing through your veins. “I need it, baby. Just one more.” He begged, throwing the dominant tone out the window.

Your heart was pounding against your chest, vision slightly blurry and mind foggy. The only thing keeping you in the realm of reality was his dulcet voice and beautiful words. His face, although shining with sweat and hair sticking to the skin, was one of the most enchanting things you had ever seen. Even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to deny him of the wish. Even as fucked out as you were, there was this small part of your brain that was screaming at you to give him whatever he wanted. It was the devil, maybe, or it was just your heart giving in to the generosity he’d shown you in the last few hours. Whatever it was, you were determined to please him, and it wasn’t hard to do.

He tightened his hold a little more, the small action enough to send you spiralling over the edge again. You let in a choked breath, trying to fill your burning lungs with a hint of air as your legs shook and your eyes squeezed shut. “That’s it,” he groaned. “That’s my girl.” He held his grip until he reached his peak, too, and you both rode the high together. He gradually let go of the pressure he was holding on with, allowing the blood flow to resume and bring you back to earth. Once you had relaxed against him, your mind was able to produce thought again. Your chest slowed, finally suffice with the amount of air in your lungs. You opened your eyes, immediately met with the sight of his smiling face.

You couldn’t help but give one back, finding his joy incredibly infectious. He leaned down, placing a kiss on your lips. You reached up, pulling him closer to you. He slowly let himself down, resting on top of you. You were a mess of sweaty bodies and tangled limbs, but completely content with the position and comforted by the intimacy. He was still resting inside of you, not caring about the mess you’d both made. He just wanted to be close to you, and you did, too. He broke the kiss, instead letting his lips trail over any available body part. You quickly realized that out of every version of Jake you knew, aftercare Jake was your favourite. Every movement was laced with care and love, making sure that every crude action or word was known to be an act. Your body was exhausted, your mind was, too, but you were more than willing to stay awake all night just to be able to continue experiencing the affection.

“Glad I stayed?” He asked, smiling against the skin of your collarbone. You rolled your eyes, but let out a small laugh.

“I think you just need me to want you.” You joked, but he didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I do.” He agreed, looking up at you through strands of messy hair. “Of course I do.” Your stomach sank, rattled by the blunt honesty. “It’s the best feeling in the whole world.”

No devils advocate for the sinful desire could overpower the guilty conscience that took over. Jake felt the same for you as you did for his brother, and it was gut wrenching to realize that no matter what destination the road was leading to, it would still be painful for someone. As certain as you were for your love for Sam, you couldn’t deny the fact that you were falling for Jake, fast and incomprehensibly hard. In attempt to ward the thoughts away, you pulled him into your chest again. You wrapped him in a hug filled with emotion, an apology hidden deep within the action. You held him there for long enough that it made the revelations disappear.

Wake up in the morning,

see your sunrise loves to go down

[drdemonprince]

oh my god can i get trans masc self infantilization for 500 alex

Quick hate read of this piece:

my relationship to gender was mediated (isn’t it always) by capitalism. I could not meet another trans man who could tell me how to behave, but I could shop for one. I could buy distilled trans expertise, and tell myself I was putting money back into “the community;” I was engaged in political action, redistributing my middle-class cash to support people I had never met, but whose welfare was, nonetheless, my business.

oh my fucking god Jude buying a huge crop of trans books at the local indie bookshop is not political action. I know booksellers who work at beloved indie-progressive bookstores quite intimately so if you haven't heard yet, I'll be the first to tell you: no matter their feminist branding, these places treat their workers like shit and pay them minimum wage. And often these stores are hell to be in for trans femme people.

edit: whoops he didnt even claim to support indie bookstores, it was a chain in a mall wtf

Also, it's baffling to me that a published author like Doyle can claim buying books is somehow redistributing wealth to poor, trans authors. First, wealthy people are widely overrepresented in publishing, and two, the vast majority of published authors never see a single cent of royalites. Over 90% of books never "earn out". You'd be kicking them about $2.50 of a $25 hardcover sale even if they did. stop making your consumption seem righteous dude.

These authors didn’t hate people like me; they didn’t disagree with me or dislike my general aesthetic. These authors literally hated me, me personally, the dude who had recently given them money. 

the ENTITLEMENT!!! How dare these trans authors post openly that they disagree with you and your tepid liberal politics, you bought one of their books and (maybe, but probably not) gave them $3 !!!!

To a shy eleven-year-old boy on his first day of school, which is what I was emotionally and even hormonally at the time, it was devastating. I cried for days. I was on vacation.

a middle aged incredibly well connected man in publishing is pulling "im a little birthday boy -- hormonally" shenanigans. I get that reading critical comments about yourself hurts. I have been there buddy. I've received repeated misgendering, misogynistic criticisms and insults while I was newly on HRT and not even out to anyone! I was also a 30 year old adult man with a career and coping tools. I was not an eleven year old boy. I was not the victim of anything, really, except for my own lack of comment moderation habits at the time.

the amount of real life transphobia i have since lived looms so much larger that little petty online slights doesnt even rank. we're not talking about threats or doxxing here. we're talking people on twitter thinking he shouldnt be the face of trans politics.

because I know who this author is and move in the same circles, I have seen the message of hate that he's talking about. People mostly talk about him sardonically and insult his worst opinions and most hastily-written pieces. That's not even hate. That's just begging him to be responsible in his work and to maybe not write apologia for trans cops (one of the bad takes he was most openly criticized for at the time).

Those guys were my heroes, was the thing. They were the ones I had wanted to teach me how to act. I used to imagine conversations with them, think about what I would ask if I got the chance.

Buddy, you said you literally just discovered these authors mere weeks or months prior, having bought up every book published by a trans guy that you could find. It's not like you had posters of them hanging up on your bedroom wall as a child. And even if you did, youre a grown man in your forties who writes very inane takes. Some critique from your contemporaries comes with the territory and is in fact a compliment. it means people recognize youre a significant cultural voice and they want you to do better!

When I get into conflict with another trans person, when I stumble on the thread where my elders are shit-talking me, I am not looking at my computer. I’m in my math class, after lunch period, hearing the squeak of metal on linoleum as someone drags their desk a few inches away.

your elders??? are you talking about people who are like, three years older than you Jude .I understand that hostile middle and high school experiences bring massive trauma, but holding adults who are intellectually critiquing you, a fellow adult, responsible for the trauma you endured as a teen is so wildly inappropriate and immature that i cant stand it.

It would be one thing if Doyle showed any self-awareness of the disjoint here, and was just talking about being triggered, but he doesnt, not anywhere in the piece. he implies throughout that it's people being mean to him on twitter who are really at fault.

oh my god he likens himself to Isabell Fall later on in this piece i cant

i just cant with this dude hes always taking so many unnecessary Ls and gets hired so fucking much to write about trans experiences when he clearly has next to zero community connections and sense of scale when it comes to the issues we face. its so annoying!!!

[blackjackkent]

OK, for realsies this time (maybe?), a few more explorational highlights from the grove area, and then we're off in the direction of the goblin camp, because Rakha craves goblin blood and answers and it seems the most likely place to get both. (After not being able to hurt Mizora, Sceleritas, OR Raphael, she's feeling very pent up and not in the fun way.)

Rescued Mirkon from the harpies on the beach! We didn't do this with Hector last time. In this case, I suspect it was definitely Wyll who originally encouraged Rakha to go down and see if the kid was okay. ("Your favorite drownings all take place in shallow water," the Narrator helpfully informs us. "Just a slice of the ankle tendons...") She also got completely hypnotized by the harpies as well, because it occurred to me that (to her recollection) she has never heard music of any kind before, let alone music that beautiful - and not only that, but it quieted the Urge. Lae'zel (I assume) snaps her out of it. And once Rakha figures out what's going on and that something else was taking control of the inside of her head, she got MAD. This fight didn't go particularly well for anyone except Lae'zel, who rocked an absolutely brutal crit on one of the harpies, but Rakha got to expend some frustration on all of them with some applications of Burning Hands, which made her feel overall a little calmer. We got a Folk Hero inspiration for Wyll for helping the kid out. Gale was also pleased, although I think Rakha cares about that somewhat less.

Hit level 3! Rakha now has more spell slots and can (with sorcery points) cast an action spell as a bonus action. More fire!

Chatted with Volo. Rakha, after her recent interactions with Sceleritas and Raphael, absolutely got jumpscared by him greeting her as "my good friend!" until she realizes Volo is just Like That. She's also utterly baffled when he asks her for information on the goblin battle and then deliberately writes down falsehoods instead. ("A mythweaver," Lae'zel says disdainfully. "This man has no respect for truth.") He does confirm what she's picked up about the presence of the Absolute cult, though - and indicates that the goblins are also part of it, although it's hard to tell whether she should believe him.

Stopped down to see Mol since Mirkon said we should. It was not a particularly exciting conversation, but contact has been made which will be relevant later. Rakha definitely looks at the kids differently than she does the adults in the area, mostly because of Wyll's influence and his story of how he became the Blade of Frontiers.

Checked in with the two tiefling guards in the back corner room, one of whom is threatening to shoot a caged goblin prisoner in revenge for her dead brother. Unsurprisingly, Rakha did nothing to stop this. ("Your mind wanders," points out the Narrator, in the soft, cold drawl she uses for the Dark Urge's specific thoughts. "If the crossbow bolt shot through her mouth, would she taste the metal before she died?") Stand back and admire the guard's overflowing hate. She waits and watches while the guard's crossbow bolt slams directly between the prisoner's eyes. Interestingly - Wyll approved of her choice.

Interacting with the squirrel above the main grove was uh. Sure something.

Narrator: This squirrel might be the single most adorable creature you can recall in all your stunted memory! It would be ever so twee if it were climbing a tree.

And then Rakha got this weird grin on her face and hauled off with a kick; there was an explosion of blood and the squirrel's dead body landed in the upper branches of the tree nearby.

"Terrific," says Lae'zel (presumably while Gale and Wyll look on in complete horror). "If I'm ever harangued by a rodent, I know who to call for."

Narrator: You stare at the body before you. You have no idea what just happened.

Rakha feels the beast in her head settle, its recent frustration soothed by this spilling of an innocent creature's blood. She remembers the deep, crunching impact of her boot and a deep shiver rolls through her whole body.

"My body moved without my command," she mutters hoarsely. "I couldn't control it."

The others don't respond. What is there to say?

Narrator: The swirling bile cauldron of your brain is cooking up a poison stew - served and seasoned by that venomous butler.

[madfantasy]

I haven't seen you post in a while, I hope you've been doing okay? How is everything? Hope it's been a good year so far for you 💕💕

You're too kind, u & everyone who made inquiries, bless ur hearts.. im sorry for disappearing, but yeah, I don't have net— using my phone credit and hope this posts..

I tried to record my voice answering this, like I sometimes did on tik, suddenly ended up trying to muffle the floods of my burning tears, so now I have an awkward vid of me talking then weeping out of nowhere, which a good reason for me to keep up the no cry habit, heh.. but seriously, I suppose I'm fine till I be conscious of it.. its much easier for not to talk .. even tho I'm aching to be back in thy company, lonely in my foresight to catch on to the present that joins us, hand held out to reach like minded souls but shying from the fear of forgetfulness occurring..

I'm fine tho, did few new stuff, merely drowning in too muchness and nothingness as usual, this month I guess you could say I took an act of mad fury in search of any happy source because the echoing silence and the swarm of sadness nipping on my brain cells thickened, and the reasoning merged with the obscene. So instead of giving my guardians the usual of 3/4 of my earnings last month for net and groceries, I spent it all. Ya know, as it was told to me it mine to do as I please? As being prevented any chance of work if it was possible, 't was supposed to be spent on art supplies & measly delights craved for years ?

Before hand, I've been begging them to take me for months to get any clothing or whatever, be it the first time I ever see a shop, then just to drive around, then just me peaking to the outside when the front door is open, merely seeking change I suppose. They kept vaguely promising me until they refused point blank— getting tired of my nagging, then their car just stopped working till this day. Its in the workshop rn..

Anyway, befouled by despair, needing the mere basics of life and not granted, I was delighted when i found a site to buy from cheap & pretty, I pressed buy without any further considerations, or taking their permission and thrilled to be able get gifts for my siblings too. I say gifts but really they are deprived necessities too and not even much just one each cuz well, they are 5 of my babies and to start with the top of priorities; we all draw

I could already see it, they can't help themselves; heck seeped through the clenched gates of their mouths, trying desperately to poison me with undirect attempts this time, cuz I bought for my sibs they're out of the option of calling me selfish. I was upping the same trance like state of vague existence dealing with them, absorbing their insults and degrading just to make sure my shi arrives safe.

Unfortunate for me, the site chose the worst carrier in this country

I did everything in my power to make it into their convenience, by embarrassingly messaging the carrier daily, they took a week of promising to deliver and flanking so my guardians reached a heated level of threatening, waving their hands nd almost tossing shi at mE saying that they don't care if they came and if i dared to order something again they'll do this and that. Not allowing me to open the door for the delivery guy when he comes, blaming me for missing vaccination dates (they kept missing them even before)& missing going to important places(again, they just didn't go to for ages), made them loose sleep, etc etc— in turn, I seen red and regretfully blew up.

I screamed at them its literally the only time I ever did this, it BECAUSE it easier on them & I'll do what I want whatever anyway, & to stop interrupting me while I try to explain things , then they suddnly back done and be like I'm not mad at u I'm mad at the delivery ppl, that they are proud of me for being able to do all this, and such sort. I left them to cool in my room, Idk how I did it but must have slam-gripped something so hard it chipped most of my short nails & cracked one, was glad I didn't hurt my drawing hand but yeah, goofy mani

They robbed me of the joy of anticipation & the dissipation of apathy, I started to lose sleep again and my liberating dreams left me and I don't think I remember leaving bed.

But still, If not force myself to do things.. there'll be nothing for me if I don't.. at least I know im able of that

I got my guardians happy tho after another tiresome refusal, by trying out one of those Uber-eat like local apps here, since they have no car and being disabled & ill, I ordered McDonald's for the first time. Slythry behind their backs per habit, told them someone coming and they had that look again, but thankfully the guy came through and didn't steal my money, heh. For a big 1800 calories meal I suppose it was passable, the happy fam faces I got was the real treat..

Oh with that thing with the credit card stating I owe them money, waited weeks & nobody got back to us? They started taking from my guardian's account directly to pay it, saying oh we did send you warnings--- TO THE SHADOWY LINES OF THEIR POSTERIOR A.K.A NOWHERE. Thankfully the account is mostly empty nd just for random transactions, i alerted my guardians not to use it. And again, my god, another round of endless calls and promises started, and we wait again so they just don't act as if we owe them a frking 17k dollars that we don't have.. was panicking cuz I have nothing and but my guardians were weirdly comforting about it and told me not to worry

One thing good bout no net is it made me stop thinking about life in general, and stop the tiny unnoticeable prick of misery when I have no input to share, trying not to helplessly compare people just living, in inflated style or not, in media, to my isolated-most-of-my-life style and missing much of that organic "life experiences and chances", heh. At least, my situation would be favorable to me if it was ever possible for it to let me have peace, or have the simple knowledge I'm not virtually imprisoned and have never familiarised with nothing of this world but the surrounding walls.. its nice to have more time to be consumed by muse and day dreaming that flutters life through my dull being and sing chorus of inspiring means for art to flow and finds its way delicately onto my realised canvas.. but no, I continued drawing whilst sight blurred with salty droplets contradicting that happy tintin dance on tiktok I worked so long on just cuz I couldn't stop, not the tears or the mad scribbles of determined intention to visualise the mourned excitement I need, hating everything I make

Somehow the lilac dream still intrudes, visualising me friends, living, in a quaint home, maybe we roommate, arm in arm we go to make every fracture of fate's encounters a disgusting adventurous thrill, like building a maze of cardboard or chasing each other in the dark.. maybe getting that half bleached head and endless ear pericings ... then it dies and I totally forget it..

But what those awesome headphones helped me do, literally blocks all their voices listening to Sev losing it and I can Waltz around not feeling gutted to go and interfere or play the referee each time. But I can't wear them forever, gives me a bad headache, and honestly; I can't be too neglectful.. my sibs hates me for it already hehe

At least these clothing came true to their measurements, felt the new sensations on how everything I wore hugs me & learnt the baffling ways on how "gender" and region plays different tunes on the same measurements. Getting fitting things felt like suddenly there's hope to be, for myself to be me, and ease this severe disassociation between who I am, and what my body is .. from how little I see myself nd consider it worthy of anything because of how long it been living like a phantom among people.. to numb this dysphoria until it be gone one day

Saddened that the only site I can't order from again if they keep using that awful carrier

...

I missed our country's 91 national day, too. They made sales everything 91 riyal so.. but knowing the sellers here, I don't think most of em went true with their offers.. Horrible news tho on the celebrations, sigh

I turned this into a dear diary, guess bothered you enough today, sorry

So thankful to yous, Idk if I can be back, but I'll remain creating, and will keep the thought alive of being tickled when sharing my creations with your viewing pleasure somehow

'till then my precious dears, take care 💛🙏

26.9.2021, 8 pm, sleeping

[spencersmagic]

For as long as you’ll have me - SR

i don’t know who owns this gif (i found it on my computer). If anybody knows where its from please let me know so i can tag them.

update: found them. @anepiphany . sorry for not tagging you at first. lmk if u want me to tag u in any other way/change the gif :) 

// Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 //

masterlist // taglist

Summary: Spencer learns about love and the importance of communication in the last part of the “I’ve got you”.

Couple: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (I think. I don’t remember being gender-specific but correct me if im wrong).

Category: a bit of angst, mostly fluff. 

Warnings: Spencer is a bit toxic (my poor baby is learning but FUCK if he isn’t a bit of a dumbass), idk if spencer is borderline obsessive or just eager but ILL ALLOW IT, sorta deep? idk, i tried to delve into the reasons why spencer is the way he is and i might’ve gotten lost in the way down. let me know if you need anything trigger tagged or warned. 

Words: 2010 words. 

**

The rest of the night was a blur. Spencer’s sudden outburst had left you baffled, not knowing what to do. You had finished Spencer’s paperwork, figuring you’d do it anyways since he was so tired.

You would love to be one of those people who burst out in anger when something hurts them, but that’s just simply not who you are. And you kicked yourself for it, wanting to face Spencer, seething, asking him who the actual fuck he thought he was talking to you like that. After all you’d gone through. But you couldn’t. You stayed, silent, immersing yourself in the paperwork in front of you.

**

Nothing could’ve prepared Spencer for what awaited him at the BAU.

All his life, Spencer has found himself in unlikely situations. Situations from which he had to dig himself out. As a kid, taking care of his mother, he would exhaustively study every single possibility, every single outcome to his actions. He didn’t want anything to catch him unprepared. He immersed himself in textbook after textbook trying to learn as much as he could, trying to absorb every little detail just in case it could help him later on.

He absorbed textbooks, and novels, and poems, and quotes because he was afraid of not knowing the answer. He was scared of not knowing what to do.

But apparently, as he learned about physics, and criminology and the meaning of life, he forgot that he also had one of his own. That there is more to life than work and survival.

He forgot to learn about love, and emotion, and all the other arts. The ones he couldn’t hide behind statistics to understand, no matter how much he tried.

Nothing could’ve prepared Spencer for what awaited him at the BAU.

The emptiness.

As he left the day before, he felt awful. He knew he shouldn’t lashed out, but he was so hurt he could feel it physically, and so tired of never being anyone’s first choice. But most of all, he was heartbroken that you hadn’t cherished the memory like he had.

And it was completely unfair to expect something of you when he hadn’t made any advances either, but he was so scared of being rejected by you. The agent that had latched onto him, who always listened to his rants and statistical facts, who made him feel safe and comfortable.

He felt human around you.

As he entered the bullpen, he felt as abstract as he could. Like he was a drawing, a caricature, mocking the parts of him he despised the most. He felt his skin crawling and, if he didn't know that it was physiologically impossible, he would think his heart had stopped completely.

You weren’t in today.

And maybe it was the exhaustion (to be fair, he hadn’t slept well, instead tossing and turning and thinking about the venom he had spewed at his favourite person), or maybe some external force was making him pay for his actions the day before, but he felt his heart dropping onto his gut - again, something he knew was physiologically impossible but still found truer than anything he had interacted with during the short day he had.

Your desk was empty, and he was terrified.

He cleared his throat, turning to JJ. “Is uhm- is Y/N in?” he asked, voice still, somehow, wavering.

She turned to him, distracted with a file she was holding between her arms. “She called in sick” she offered, saying no more.

He sighed, shakily. He didn’t feel real today. He was merely a concept, forced to float through this specific space-time. Like a ghost.

He didn’t even realised that his hands were moving to his new phone (you had convinced him that he should get it so you two could FaceTime - needless to say, he wouldn’t be hard to convince), and dialled your number.

It went straight to voicemail.

**

You rarely called in sick, instead preferring not to endure whatever was hurting alone. But today you couldn’t. In some weird way, you didn’t want to be perceived.

Spencers words had pierced your skin, leaving you in pieces. You hated that he had so much power over you. You hated that you had allowed your feelings to cloud you to the point where you would call in sick, preferring to cuddle a pillow instead of a file. Preferring to sleep through the pain.

You had given yourself a day. One day where the sadness could consume you. You would carry out all the clichés. Nursing a Ben & Jerry’s Cookie Dough ice-cream tub and watching The Office. Wrapping yourself like a burrito in a soft blanket. Trying to cry it out. 

You had always been very in touch with your emotions. You always tried to make sense of them, clearing them from your mind once you untangled them. You needed today, you were sure. As soon as today was over you would go back to the BAU, and face everybody like any other day. You’d bring in whatever cute gadget you had found for Penelope, you’d make sure Spencer had his coffee when he was tired... You’d be back to normal.

You needed today.

**

He didn’t feel real today.

His feet shuffled as he moved to Hotch’s office, mumbling something about finding you, and then left, leaving Hotch perplexed at Spencer’s mindless assertiveness.

He kicked himself for feeling so slow as he got to your apartment. His mind was going at a thousand miles per hour, but he felt like he was empty, no real thoughts in his mind. All he had was vacant ideas, not a trace of clarity in boy genius’s mind.

He knew why he had treated you like that. He knew it was wrong. But he was so confused and scared. He didn’t want to hurt you and he didn’t want to lose himself in his love for you. But he had.

He stood in front of the door. His hand twitched at the idea of knocking on the wood in front of him. His knuckles felt bruised at the idea of softly brushing them over your cheek, calming you down once again. His fingertips shook like they had a consciousness of their own, the lingering memory of your skin against them as you sighed contently becoming too much for him to handle.

He was so scared of not being good enough for you.

He brought his hand to his face, rubbing it furiously as he kicked himself once again.

His knuckled knocked on the door meticulously, methodically, like he had done a thousand times. The soft mumbling of the tv was the only sound coming from the apartment. Once again, as if he’d been possessed, he grabbed the spare key you had gifted him dramatically after you’d fallen ill, “in case i die”. He kept the key, figuring you would tell him when you wanted the key back.

You never asked for it.

He opened the door, which halted a few inches after he started moving it forwards.

“Ouch! What the fuck Spencer?” you exclaimed as he hit you in the face with the door. You lifted your hand to rub the area he had hit.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?” he cradled your face like he had done a thousand times before, fingertips finally finding your skin. They sighed contentedly, he was sure, like they had just returned to their home. Like they would curl up with a book in the crevices of your features, soaking in your greatness.

You shuddered softly, so softly he probably wouldn’t’ve picked up on it if he weren’t on edge.

“Yeah, I’m fine” you sighed, cursing your voice for betraying you, wavering from the tears. “What are you doing here?” you questioned, not exactly mad. No. You couldn’t be mad.

You would love to be one of those people who burst out in anger when something hurts them, but that’s just simply not who you are.

His hands fell from your face, like it burned, like touching you one more second would turn him into ashes.

He felt human around you and he had hurt you.

Words spluttered out of him nervously.

“Y-Y/N. I lied to you.” he started, finding himself mesmerised, lost in your eyes as you looked up at him, eyes teary and wide, red mark on your forehead, and biting your cheek. “I lied to you, I- I-” his mind searched for the words that could accurately describe the millions of thoughts that were swarming his head.

“I lied, and we promised to never lie to each other. But I was so hurt, Y/N, so scared. I’ve never felt like this before.

You know, men are much more likely to fall in love at first sight, representing a 48% chance in contrast to women's 28%, but I never thought I would fall into this statistic, being a man of science. I’ve always picked the people around me carefully, meticulously, not letting anybody in. But when I saw you something clicked. I needed you in my life. And when you started talking to me - no one had ever treated me like you did, so openly, so incredibly unafraid - and i became completely mesmerised by your existence.

You know-” he chuckled lightly, nervously, recalling his thoughts, before throwing caution out of the window. “I did question the existence of an infinite deity, one that could justify your beauty and greatness, but, again, i’m a man of science. I had to get to terms with the fact that you were completely human. And its- its so fucking confusing” he shut his eyes sharply, trying to understand “ Its so fucking hard to see you day after day, knowing you could never feel the same way” you opened your mouth to interrupt him but he stopped you.

“I meant what I say yesterday” he watched your face fall, eyes tearing up once again. “I meant it. You know me. I would’ve done it for anybody. I would’ve helped anybody in pain. That’s what i’ve always done. But you’re not anybody. You’re so far from being just anybody, from not being special. In fact, you’re the most special person I have ever met.

It is unclear how many words there are in the English dictionary. The mere fact that our language is constantly changing, being shaped by our society, doesn’t allow an accurate count. The average english speaker knows approximately 42,000 words, and uses half of those. And the common unabridged dictionary has as many as 300,000 entries” he stopped to look into your eyes, his own otherwise roaming all over your face, trying to make sense of you. “I don’t think there are words to describe what I feel about you, Y/N”.

You grabbed the crook of his neck with one hand and the side of his face, and brought him closer to you. “Can i kiss you, Spence?” you mumbled. The words barely left your lips as he crashed onto them, somewhat messily. You didn’t want it any other way.

The kiss was soft, gentle, apologetic, and, above all, understanding.

You definitely needed to heal, talk and understand each other’s struggles. But, for now, this was more than enough.

You broke apart, pressing his forehead against yours and his hand landed on your lower back, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

Insecurity swarmed his head, rushing words once again. He cleared his throat. “I-I’m new to this, Y/N. I’m bound to fail over and over again. If you want someone else, you need to tell me. I can’t handle another heartbreak. I might lash out like yesterday and hurt you” he mumbled softly, eyes closed, breathing her in.

“Spencer, I’ll have you a thousand times. I’ll want you for as long as you’ll have me” you chuckled, leaning in for another kiss. “I would get hurt a thousand times if it means i get to have you, Spence”.

They had each other, and that’s all that matters.

---

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[carbootsoul]

omg please talk about saionji and utena and i want to know ur thoughts

ack anon i am. kissing u on the mouth rn thank u so much for asking !!! a fair warning before i write anything else: i have a stupid and inexplicable amount of affection for saionji kyouichi and this response will probably be kinda biased toward being understanding of him. don't get me wrong he is still very much a bad person throughout a lot of the series BUT he's also 17. anyway this got long bc i have many thoughts so its under the cut

my big thought about the two of them is that they're foils for each other! both to illustrate utena's good qualities and to point out what went wrong with saionji.

the main place we see similarities between them is their feelings toward both anthy and touga. saionji and utena are the only duelists to duel FOR anthy as a person rather than the power she wields. they're also the only two people that touga ever expresses unguarded affection toward, the only people with him in the church scene, the only people who reject him (other than nanami, whose rejection is more complex imo), and the two targets of his manipulation in season one. wakaba refers to them both as her prince and they both express at least the potential to be friends with her, they're both dragged into some kind of relation with akio through someone they're close with (saionji only for a few short scenes but the camera one does make me a little queasy), they're the only duelists to lose a duel and then rechallenge the winner. they're also the only characters to be "expelled" (not quite textually in utena's case, but the girls at the end of the last episode speculate that she was expelled for "getting in trouble with the chairman"). finally there are some vague thoughts i have about saionji's rose being a very pale green, which is a complimentary color to pink (while his hair is a deeper green, mirroring touga's red hair).

in terms of their personalities being similar it's mostly just the fact that they're both jocks and they both do the baffled face a lot which i think is fun from them both :) same 'interacting with nanami ever' expression. the two BIG things they have in common personality wise is their tendency to insist that their view of the world (especially!! their view of what is good for anthy) is correct, and obliviousness (especially to their privilege and the way it acts on other people, especially anthy). utena grows out of both those things, though, and they're two of her main points of character development throughout the series.

obviously, the differences between them are quite a bit more obvious. saionji is mostly used (especially at the beginning of the series) to contrast utena and to provoke her into protecting anthy. he's abusive, controlling, and cocky where she is... just cocky, and only sometimes. saionji is less aware of 'adult things' than utena (in some ways he's more childish than nanami- the scene that comes to mind is the one with the exchange diary, where utena worries that saionji is making sexual advances and saionji obviously has no idea what she's thinking. tbh i hold that saionji didn't really know what sex was before his car scene which is both funny and v upsetting to me). saionji is unwilling or unable to change the parts of himself that harm other people (or unaware of the effects of his actions) whereas utena, throughout the series, constantly does her best to be a better person and i love her so. so much. not-prince of my heart. also he has green hair and she has pink hair :) also he sucks so bad

anyway now that i've established their similarities and differences, here's the heart of my argument!! at their core, utena and saionji are very similar people (the church flashback rly illustrates this imo but maybe thats just bc children r all similar) but, because saionji grew up with power that utena didn't, he's. uh. who he is. (his eyes are purple, a color associated with akio's control. akio.. uh. patriarchy man.)

saionji's role in the show isn't just as the personification of rape culture, but as a statement on what the patriarchy DOES to teenage boys who don't notice their privilege. he is quite obviously less aware of his power than touga or akio are (they both use sex as a power tool, and both take advantage of the fact that they, as men, have power in most situations. saionji also takes advantage of this but it seems much less conscious on his part- again the scene with the exchange diary comes to mind. he is looming over utena-as-anthy but not in an attempt to scare her, but just bc he's found that when he is big and tall, people do what he want). this is shown especially in what we see of saionji when he's staying with wakaba! he's a much better person when he doesn't have this institutional power as close to his fingertips, even when he's unaware of this lacking. he goes back to being a douche the second he leaves, to, which is where his personal problems come into play.

saying that saionji is how he is just because he was born into privilege is way more forgiving of him than the narrative is or i would be, because the other bit that contrasts him with utena is his unwillingness to see or acknowledge his privilege. the fact that he's unaware of the bits and pieces of society that come together to give him that power over anthy doesn't absolve him, because he still takes advantage of the fact that he can do whatever he wants to her and he never tries to understand why. he sees that if he's engaged to anthy she will love him unconditionally (what he's looking for throughout the series) but he never tries to connect the dots between the power he has over her and the fact that she says she loves him. a scene that i think is rly interesting is the one in touga's last few episodes where touga and utena are talking and saionji comes and lies down in anthy's lap- it's such a small thing but i think it does a really interesting job summarizing his character! he actively seeks out affection/the love he wants from anthy and, because of the power he wields, she gives it to him. he's content with this, because he refuses to see the power dynamics that make her let him nap with his head in her lap. he allows himself to keep the safe blanket of his privilege, even when it hurts everyone else. utena sees that she has power as the rose bride's fiance and she (eventually) works against the powers that be to change that.

anywayyy that was a lot lol and im not sure it makes a ton of sense??? but those r what i've been thinking about! really it boils down to like. saionji would be a much better person if he took a feminist theory class with a completely open mind. and then he and utena could be friends :) the other thing it boils down to is that both utena and saionji's best and worst characteristics are being stupid as fuck BUT utena tries to learn and saionji refuses to. thanks again for sending this ask!! i hope my response made some sense haha

[grasslandgirl]

im distracting myself from the impending doom of a six month hiatus and everything that... happened in MAG160 by thinking about all the Wonderful possibilities for jonmartin dynamics post-159 because I’m a sucker for pining and minor miscommunications and dumb fanfic tropes and I’m dragging all of you along on this ride with me!

1) They’re Both Just Chill: there’s no miscommunications, no misunderstandings. despite what peter said about them not knowing each other super well (and maybe he raised some valid points, despite being an asshole) they DO know each other well enough and had a deep enough connection during the look at me/ i see you, jon scene that they both just (for lack of a better word) Know. they look into each other’s eyes in the middle of the Lonely and they see the love there, and the hurt and the pain and the anger and everything, but they do see the love. and they recognize that, oh, we’ve been so dumb this entire time. and there’s no big Talk, no awkward stumbling around the question, they just move forward from jon and martin to jon-and-martin because they’ve wasted enough time already, haven’t they? they can’t afford to waste any more time at this point, and hey. they kind of have bigger problems going on, right?

2) I Really Loved You, You Know: ok so this one i’ve seen in quite a few fanfics and speculative posts about this one, and jon misconstruing how martin uses the past tense when talking to him in the Lonely, and can i just say....... it’s very good. you have jon, who’s been desperately trying to reconnect with people, especially martin, this entire season, who dives headfirst into the Lonely after him, and maybe he heard martin’s tape with elias from the end of s3, maybe he knows about martin’s feelings for him, maybe he at least suspects, and maybe he doesn’t; but the point of the matter is that he goes into the Lonely after martin because jon’s in love with him and i think we can mostly all agree that at least by MAG159 (and we can argue about WHEN he realizes it, later) jon is aware of his own feelings for martin. but he follows the man he loves, and he finds him, and he’s begging him to follow him out of the lonely, to come with him, and martin tells him that he loved him. really loved him. loved him, as in past tense. which, like, if you think about it? that’s SO heartbreaking. but jon keeps after him ANYWAY, and he breaks martin out of the Lonely’s grasp and they walk out side by side and then you’re left with jon, who is terrified on SO many different levels, and thinks that he failed, again. that he was too late with martin, too late to be his friend, too late to save him from Peter, and too late to love him, and he saved him, he did it, but it’s still heartbreaking, right? and juxtapose that with martin, who’s just been literally pulled out of his own loneliness by the man he’s been in love with for three years, and he told him he LOVED him and jon Didn’t Respond. and like? all the hurt and the pining and the trying to take care of each other despite everything and despite your own hurt that can happen there? SUPER good

3) Clueless Jon Doesn’t Know He Has A Boyfriend: this one kind of crosses over with #2 but it’s a little lighter and a little more fun. essentially you have martin, who says he loves jon and assumes jon heard his tape with elias where he outed martin entirely and sees jon come into the lonely to save him and hugs jon while crying when he comes to his senses and walks out of the lonely hand in hand with jon and thinks, quite reasonably, that ok, they’re dating now. and you have martin “caretaker” blackwood who’s worrying over jon and taking care of him and letting jon take care of him, and making him eat and they do all this vaguely date-y stuff because the world is kind of maybe ending, but hey! martin’s in love and hes going to enjoy it goddamnit. but then one day our beloved archivist, jon “emotionally obtuse” sims, has nearly a breakdown and he starts rambling on about how he’s in love with martin and he’s sorry and he wants there to be something between them and how he doesn’t want to change anything and this is terrible timing and he doesn’t even Know if martin feels the same way but he needed to get this off his chest etc etc etc and martin’s just like “i thought. i thought we were ALREADY dating.” which is.... hysterical if you ask me

4) Jonathan “Fuck The Lonely” Sims: kind of the opposite of the last two, in which jon is LESS of a moron than anyone expected! jon “the archivist” sims actually... thinks! he listens to the tape of elias and martin from MAG118 and reevaluates every interaction he ever had w martin after he wakes up from his coma and realizes that martin’s in love with him, and not only that, but HE’S in love with MARTIN, but has no way of communicating that to him until 154 and that whole conversation is just jon trying (and failing) to say “i love you. i love you and i know you love me and lets just say fuck this place and go. please lets just go the two of us, say you’ll come with me. i love you.” and martin. doesn’t understand. but then 159 happens and jon follows and they have That Moment and jon thinks that Finally they’re on the same page and meanwhile you have martin, who’s PEAK in his pining time, fresh out of a good year of self isolation and pure loneliness and needs a while to pull away from Forsaken and thinks that he’s alone in his pining after jon, because jon never said anything about the tape with elias, or martin saying he loved him in the lonely, and is completely clueless to the fact that jon thinks theyre straight up dating and are just taking it Slow. and then one day jon is like “hey ready for our date later” (they had dinner plans or smth but this is the first time he outrightly calls it a Date) or he kisses martin briefly on the forehead or cheek or smth and martin is like “WHAT IS GOING ON” and jon is just. baffled cause he’s not used to being the oblivious one in the relationship

5) Just Full On Pining Hours: theres some crossover here with both #2 and #4, but specifically this one is where BOTH jon and martin are full on in love and are idiots and think that the other person Doesn’t Love Them Back :( possibly featuring: jon focusing on the past tense of “i really lovED you, you know,” martin comparing jon going into the lonely to save him to jon going into the buried to save daisy/ cutting the bullet out of her leg to save melanie from the slaughter, jon being dumb and thinking all the statements he’s heard about martin’s “feelings” are elaborations/inaccurate/only in the past/etc, martin being so stuck in the lonely he pulls away from jon on instinct, jon caught up on what peter said about them not really knowing each other and MAD second guessing himself and questioning what his feelings for martin are really based on, both martin and jon throwing themselves MAJOR pity parties about falling to the power of the eye/the lonely respectively, jon going into “im a monster and im the worst and ive lost my humanity” mode and thinking he’s not Worthy of being with martin in the first place, martin being haunted by his time with peter and the lonely and keep falling back into the habit of pushing people (jon) away “for their own good,” etc etc etc etc! just a lot of sad pining hours bc these guys have been through a LOT and it’s hard to just drop straight into a healthy relationship (or Any relationship) when there’s so much baggage and history there in between

6) Run Away With Me, by Carly Rae Jepsen: I said what I said. i want them to be happy and so what if they run away and blind themselves and leave the archives and live in some house in another continent and never think about any of the entities again? i get to make the rules, its my fantasy au world and jonny can’t do anything to hurt them here

[cruisercrusher]

i totally wanna hear what you have to say abt rebels!! personally im a big fan and ive never seen anyone specifically not like the show so im interested in ur thoughts !!

Ok please keep in mind I do not at all pretend to be unbiased because clone wars is my most favourite thing ever so every Star Wars thing ever gets compared to clone wars it’s like my thing

The core of why I’m not fond of rebels is because to me none of it felt impactful. I’ve actually watched I think 3 out of the 4 seasons, because my d*d made us all watch it as a “family” and imma be real with you chief. Years down the line I struggled to remember the main characters names. Almost none of it actually stuck with me in any meaningful way, someone will mention something that happened in an episode I did watch and I’ll be like damn i have no recollection???? But also like having gone back and taken a second and third look at the show I’ve gotten the impression that even within the show nothing has that much impact, maybe the last season is different idk but it feels very one note to me and at times shallow in the story telling. Nothing sticks, because the characters retain a degree of staticity throughout what I’ve seen, and Disney very clearly had a set formula laid out for how the episodes/arcs would go that left little room for the ballsy storytelling and character development we got from clone wars.

It’s a little disappointing because I think there were things in rebels that had a lot of potential, rebels as a whole had a lot of potential but Disney really put a stranglehold on Dave Filoni and the rest of the creative teams creative ability.

That being said, I really don’t like the animation either. Like, really don’t like it. I feel like it lacks depth and texture, and I don’t like a lot of the character designs, and the backgrounds are a little flat, and the way the characters move is weird to me. They’re just a tad too fluid and a touch too expressive that for me it reads as very uncanny valley, it actually took me out of it sometimes.

(Also the human skin tones all looked kinda off to me I was like I don’t think that’s the right undertone babes that’s too much yellow. Too much yellow babe)

As well as the fact that the animation stayed pretty much exactly the same throughout the series, and had none of the actual real innovation and groundbreaking animation that the clone wars had.

Going back to the story telling, and again, this is Disney’s fault, there were a lot of missed opportunities for them to go really hard. There were a lot of lessons in clone wars (like always question authority, and Capitalism Bad, and War is Futile, and sometimes the people who are supposed to be the good guys aren’t necessarily very good) that Disney is just straight up afraid of. Like clone wars really had a lot of more left leaning themes that is simply too much for the conservative, one percenter, trump supporting Disney executives and shareholders.

An example of this I feel would be when they introduced the clones. If I could have I would have done that arc very differently. And don’t get me wrong, I loved seeing grandpa Rex! But the way those episodes were executed felt a little. Dissatisfying? Maybe not quite disrespectful, but then again imo the story of the clones is THE MOST tragic one in all of Star Wars and those episodes had an element of levity to them that I don’t think fit. That arc could have been really deep and somber (and they could have done at least a little to acknowledge the rampant ptsd the clones must have, especially Wolffe who shot down his general and father figure against his will) yet the script didn’t really do those characters justice at all.

Also, I would have written Sabine’s character very differently. For one, I would have made her at least twenty, because with everything I know about it her it’s baffling that she’s supposedly only like sixteen. Makes zero sense. I don’t get it. Also I would make her a butch lesbian. Like a total mean dyke. We need more of those and I think Sabine could have mean dyke potential.

Now. The inquisitors. Dear lord. Again, could have been really cool, but tHOSE SPINNY LIGHTSABERS DRIVE ME INSANE HOW DO YOU FLY WITH THOSE IT SHDHJSJFJD FORGET THATS NOT HOW THE FORCE WORKS, THATS NOT HOW PHYSICS WORKS!!!!

Barbie life in the dream house had better animation because they were actually supposed to look plastic. Also, rebels yoda haunts my nightmares.

And I specifically don’t like Ahsoka’s character design either. I like her outfit but she looks less like Ahsoka to me and more like Ahsoka’s cousin. Her skull is a different shape. Why is it a different shape? Did she have jaw transplant surgery? Where is the consistency. We literally see an older version of Ahsoka during the mortis arc and she actually looks like herself (and looks really cool!) but Rebels Ahsoka looks nothing like that? I don’t understand. It makes my brain hurt to think about it

Alright, I’ve said a lot of negative things, so here’s a positive: I really appreciate Chopper. I just love chaotic astromech droids who feel nothing but unbridled bloodlust at all times. It is so funny. I appreciate him

And, bearing in mind I haven’t seen the whole episode (because I don’t want to) mostly just gift sets and clips, but the episode where Maul finally finds Obi-Wan on tatooine and they have their final duel?? Very cool concept, lots of potential, I just wish the lightsabers weren’t so SKINNY WHY ARE THEY SO SKINNYYYYYYY

I think that’s about everything? Barring the fact that for the longest damn time I thought none of the characters had fingernails because I mistook Ezra’s layered gloves for fingerless gloves and thought he didn’t have fingernails and that freaked me out? Yeah I think that’s about all my thoughts. I tried to have as little blantantly comparing to clone wars as I could because that’s not exactly fair, of course rebels was never going to be on the same level as clone wars. When it comes to well done cartoons I think it’s like. Way up at the top tier is Atla then clone wars in second place, and then literally everything else is wayyyy below it because that’s just how it is tbh. Anyways hope this satiated your curiosity!

[indeciseicelady]

Into the deeps (Siren!Shinsou x Reader) Ch. Two)

Warnings: Cursing; Nsfw later; I don’t know, maybe some deaths; Im still planning; Help. 

~~~~~~~~~~

As you run out of land things to do, you went after the water things, since you weren't feeling stalked anymore.

Diving spots, boat trips, other tiny islands to visit, canoeing, places to see whales and dolphins, swim with sharks, even if this last one sound a little scary, as a scientist you were very excited for all of this, see new things always make your eyes sparkles.

So your first choice was going on a boat trip to see the dolphins, so you woke up early and went to the address on the advertisement, filled the forms, get on the boat, and waited to leave, you give a quick look around the people.

There were mostly couples of elderly people, a group of four guys and a very loud girl who just wouldn't stop screaming, three of the guys looked kinda of annoyed by her, so you imagine that those four guys are friends, but one of them decide to bring the girlfriend to what was supposed to be a friends trip and now none of them are enjoying it, you let a quiet laugh out;

Also have this really cute family with three small kids, one of them was a boy about eight or nine years, and he just wouldn't let go of the hands of his two little sisters, that looked like they were three or four years, there was just too cute, making you smile while remember about the family trips you used to have with your mom and older brother.

But sadly, with the good memories come the bad ones and you remember the sad end, your brother is a drug addict that avoided seeing you since the death of your mother from chagas disease a couple of years ago “its sad how some things turn out” you mumble to yourself, as you always do, and as always, no one hear you.

One of the guys that work on the boat call everyone attention as he gave a fast instruction on safety procedures and teach how to put on the life jacket, and then we left the docks to the open sea and the place where they said the dolphins would be; you put on your headphones, since the moment the boat started moving one of the kids started crying and it was a little annoying.

After a while you start to feel that something is staring you again, and that is a little scary, since you are in a boat moving to the middle of nowhere, a little panic settles in your chest and you don't know if you should get close of the edge and look for something in the water or just stays as far from it as possible.

You suddenly feel something touching your shoulder and give a small scream on a jump away attempt, maybe you would fall from the boat if you were closer to the edge, looking back to the side and notice that was one of the boat guys, he was trying to get your attention, and then you notice that you still didn't take your headphones off.

-Yes?- you ask on a shy tone, taking the headphones off, still calming down from the shock.

-Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you- said the guy giving you a nervous laugh — Its just that you need to sign this form if you want to get on the water- he said reaching you a pen and clipboard with a paper on it, you look at him, a little lost on what he was referring to, and he probably notices since he keeps explaining –To swim with the dolphins, its, hnn, like an insurance-

-Oh- you said, looking away from him and back again –I don't think I'm going into the water, I'm not a good swimmer- you explained with a shy smile and hugging yourself, trying to hide how nervous you were, and he smiles back at you and touching the life jacket as saying that was safe.

-If you change your mind, call me, ok? My name is Yuki- He keeps smiling at you as he said and you just nod in agreement, and he walks away.

You keep yourself away from the edge as the boat move, but after a while it arrives at the point where the dolphins are supposed to appear; you get close to the edge and hold it like you were holding for life, your heart beating faster than it probably should, your eyes run through the water, looking for something, anything that doesn't fit on those moving deeps, but you don't find anything, and you couldn't stop the feeling that it was even worse than seeing something, “what am I scared of?” you think to yourself.

Hearing the captain calling, you get closer while he, again, explain something, but you don't mind hearing it, there was a tension over your body, you could hear the words but you aren't listening at all, you see fish being thrown in the water, and the people were excited waiting for the dolphins to appear, but you are bothered by the smell, the felling that something could happen at any second, so you walk away from the group to the other side of the ship.

Holding the border again, trying to control your breath with the same exercises you use when anxious, but oh, you just couldn't make yourself calm at that point, closing your eyes, you try to count to ten, you heard the shrill noise the dolphins do from behind you, on the other side of the boat, you try to ignore it, you just needed to calm down a bit, so you tried to focus on good things, calming, peaceful things, like kittens, flowers, butterflies and chocolate, and you could finally feel your heart slowly going back to his normal beat.

After a couple of minutes you were finally calm, opening your eyes and seeing the ocean, and on it, two shine lights, you blink hard, there were two purple shining eyes, looking right at you from the deeps, your blood runs cold, you want to scream, run, call anyone, but you couldn't move, your grip ate the border is so hard your hand hurt, you couldn't move at all, you are completely paralyzed and those eyes are getting closer and closer but you couldn't see anything besides them, making you wonder how deep it was, all the cells in your body screaming for you to run, move, do anything but you couldn't, there was a cry being hold on your throat, you could feel every beat of your heart in your chest and was faster than it had ever being and then again, on a blink of eyes, they disappeared.

You feel a hand on a shoulder and scream, a terrified scream and you move your body against it and almost fell from the boat, if that hand didn't hardly grab at your life jacket and pull you back, it was yuki’s hand, and as he holds you, now by the arm, you felt like your body weighed tons and your legs went weak, and if he wasn't holding, you certainly would fall, so he tried to put you down slowly.

-The-there is som-something on the-the water a-and wa-was staring it was s-s-staring at me- your brain panics, you cried out those words like they were stuck and didn't want to be said, the boy was looking at you confuse, but he went to the edge anyway, the people who were on the other side came around to see what was happening, but you didn't care what they were whispering between them.

-There is nothing on the water- Yuki said as he come back to your side, you saw it and you could feel it too, like it was still there, following you, Yuki put one hand on your shoulder and the other on your forehead –You are freezing- he takes off his work jacket and land it on you -Here- he said and pick you up, taking you to the cabin, you hear the captain telling one of the boat guys to get the people out of the water, and then he follows right after, Yuki sit you on the small sofa and give you a bottle of water, you only noticed how much you were shaking when you take it in your hands and almost drop it.

-Its there, I don't know what it is but it follows me and has purple eyes- you said silently, still shaking, looking at the bottle, you could see it vividly, like those eyes were stamped with fire on your mind and ice on your body.

-Its a ghost- the old man said — You know, there was an old tale about the waters that surround our lovely island, my father told me when I was a kid, and his father told him, who heard from his father before that- the captain continues and laugh, he takes the bottle from your hand, open it and gives back to you and laugh again –Those waters have the ghost of those who died on it, the first men to step on this white clean sand used to said that this is a sea of ghosts, some of them had seen shining eyes on magic colors, they heard voices calling them until the water, and those who follows it, if come back, were never the same, they believed that it was because a drowned soul enters on the body of the living and baffles their minds- as the captain finish his story, Yuki had already left that place, and you weren't sure if that man should be the one leading that ship.

-But…- you started, not sure about what you were saying anymore, but it was scratching your brain since the moment he said –If they were the first men in here... The ghosts who died in here... that-that doesn't make sense, if didn't have people here, before those men, how would it be ghosts from people that died here?- You were confused, and the captain was laughing, you didn't understand, what was so funny? Was that man crazy? Was he making fun of you?-no one lived here before they arrive, how its possible that people died here if there were nobody here?-

-Its just an old tale, kid, don't cling to details, don’t you think that if that was true someone would have notice?- The man laughs again and takes the empty bottle of your hands, you didn't even remember drinking it

-But I saw it, sir, I can literally feel on my body that is something on the water, something that stares at me, that follows and watch me as I walk on the beach I-I- Where are you going?!- You see the man getting up and leading to the door, not listen to what you have to say.

Now alone in the cabin, protected from those eyes, your mind was at a hundred percent, but not really, it was more for eighty percent, since you were still scared, but at least you were in control of your body and mind, putting aside the shaking, you feel the boat moving again, good thing that you were going home, and when you get home, oh, those eyes are going to regret messing with a scientist.

And said and done, the second the boat stops and you put your feet on the worn wood you make your way home walking by the beach, trying to ignore the feelings of being followed and avoiding look to the water.

You got home and went straight to your notebook the first thing you do is google “shining eyes on water” and nothing, and then “ghosts on the ocean” and you were suddenly looking at pages of ocean Animals dying, and even that you do care about it, that wasn't what you were look for, after trying a few more research, you give it up, you just didn't find anything about “ghost eyes” as you named it, so you decide to take a shower and sleep, you would have to start this research from the zero, but that was okay, it is not the first time you do it.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hi, this is for the matchup! I’m 19, 5’0” and I’m super pale. I have natural blonde hair that’s thick and wavy, and it reaches to my waist. I’m pretty thin since I don’t have an appetite for food lol. I like to wear pink/soft/pastel things and I tend to sew my own clothes. I’m an artist, makeup artist, pianist, music producer, and I work as a barista. Sometimes I’ll make clothes for people for extra money but im not a professional lol. Im very socially awkward (1)

Anonymous said: (2) I stutter when strangers try to talk to me. Even more if there’s eye contact. Surprisingly I’m okay with making friends, Im just easily embarrassed 24/7. Once I open up though, I can be giggly and ditzy. And I’m also super clumsy LOL. I have no dating experience, like at all. if I have a crush, I get so flustered around them- but at the same time follow them around like a puppy. LASTLY IM SUCH A CRYBABY. Stub my toe? I’m gonna cry about it. Anyways hope this is enough :0 thank you!

You sent this in way back in October so I don’t know if you’re still around, nonnie, but I hope that you see this! 💙 I’m sorry that it took me so long to write this; I’m making a concerted effort to only do matchups at the moment, mostly because they’re the bulk amount of requests I receive. Enjoy!💛

Total word count: 2, 023.

Arthur // wc: 1, 021.

There’s roughly a fifteen year age gap between yourself and Arthur so he would be really hesitant to even talk to you, let alone anything else, but Arthur is so captivated by you that he just has to go over and talk to you. Oh, if only he could have gotten it right the first time! Alas, he choked on his laughter and you knew not what to do other than to reach a careful, shaky hand out to this stranger’s back. You rubbed his back through his many layers and you could feel the vertebrae even through them. It pulled at your heart and you just knew that there was something between the two of you. You were both socially awkward and shy, but it was a definite case of two like souls recognising one another and from that meeting came nothing less than the very birth of serendipity. You’re eight inches shorter than Arthur, too, so he gets very protective of you and he loves nothing more than pulling you into the safe cage of his embrace. Arthur can sink right down into your body; you become enfolded in his arms and Arthur can rest his face in the crook of your neck or burrow right down into you. The two of you come home when you hold each other like this, and Arthur’s careful fingers run through your thick waist length hair, manually working out any tangles. For every snag he hits, though he tries his best not to, Arthur presses a kiss to your neck, where his face rests. It’s a  silent apology and one which makes you smile. Neither of you have an appetite for food, for various reasons, but still do you make sure that the other eats even a small something every day, just to make sure that both of you are taking as best care of the other as you can. 

You have a large variety of skill sets and Arthur is always left in complete awe of you. You like to wear soft aesthetics and you are extremely talented in many areas; Arthur wonders if there’s nothing you can’t do and though he doesn’t ever voice such a thing, it’s obvious in his eyes and the way that he just can’t stop staring at you when you’re sewing your own clothes or when you’re applying makeup. He watches your hands often, so entranced by the level of care which you put into everything that you do and he can get lost in just… observing you. Sometimes Arthur even goes to your work to watch you as a barista, finding comfort not only in seeing you but also in taking you in when you don’t think you’re being watched. Don’t you know how beautiful you are? Occasionally do you make clothes for others and Arthur considers you to be so selfless, so skilled, and he’s honestly baffled by you in the best way. “Wow, Y/N, you’re really… you’re really good at this.” and other such compliments are always sincere and spoken with love and care for you and for the things you do. Arthur loves listening to you play music, and sometimes he’ll even practice his acts as Carnival while you play on the piano, finding joy not only in Carnival but also in the music and in your company; in this moment does work, music and love all come together like fireworks, though the light doesn’t dim for even a moment.

You’re very socially awkward and when strangers talk to you, you can stutter; as a barista, you encounter hundreds of people a day, maybe thousands depending on the establishment you work at, and so Arthur wonders how you can be socially awkward and if you’re smoother with your words at work than you are at home. He’s always so proud of you and of how hard you work and Arthur hopes that by spending time with you will he be able to gain even a little piece of the ability to make friends, he can never seem to manage it no matter how hard he tries. You’re easily embarrassed and as your relationship develops and goes on does Arthur do his best to ease that, though he finds it cute when the two of you accidentally make eye contact and you blush and have to look away. You’re super clumsy but so is Arthur and the two of you are forever calling out a “Careful!” or a “Was that your knee or your shin?” whenever there’s a dull thud coming from where the other person is in the apartment. You’re giggly and ditzy when you’re comfortable and as you unfold into who you are around Arthur, he only falls more and more in love with you. Arthur coos whenever he finds a bruise on you and he taps the area around it gently. He can usually figure out when you did it due to where it is on you and he only presses a kiss there gently, as if his love for you will seep through the pores of your skin and heal you from the inside out. You cry when you hurt yourself, and Arthur is always there to wipe your tears away with calloused thumb pads, gentle eyes and and open arms. He’s there for you, no matter what, and though he hates how sometimes you get hurt, he knows that you can’t help it.

Neither of you have any dating experience so a lot of what you have together is like slowly dipping your toes into a bath to test out the temperature before you slowly, slowly, ease yourself in until you’re submerged. You both get flustered around your crush so a lot of the time one or both of you is blushing. You fall in love together hard and fast but neither of you ever want it any other way. You’re both devoted to your love and to what you have together and it means that you will have many happy years together. Arthur loves you for you and nothing and no one will ever change that. 

Joker // wc: 1, 002.

By now, you and Arthur know each other like the backs of your hands. There is little that you don’t know about each other and you are settled into the love which you have for each other. The roughly fifteen year age gap which used to bother Arthur doesn’t affect him anymore; you are a fully consenting adult who knows her own mind and what she wants, so there is no issue with anything! Your waist length blonde hair is still something which Joker admires and running his hands through it is like touch liquid gold; his fingers are more welcome within the strands than your hairbrush and after you have washed it, he likes to help you take care of it. Morning and night will he brush it out for you if you ask him to, and he likes to hold entire locks as he nuzzles his painted visage into your neck. Occasionally will he leave kisses there and with the eight inch height difference it’s only too easy for Joker to literally wrap you up in his embrace. You are safest in his arms and Joker always feels an almost possessive surge of protectiveness overcome him whenever he’s holding you, so deeply does he want to keep you safe from all which seeks to bring you harm. With his new name came everything he didn’t want and Joker uses it to his advantage when he knows that he can protect you. There is nothing that he wouldn’t do for you, and even though it’s Joker, now, that’s one thing which will never change, along with his undying love for you.

The things that you like to wear are quite soft aesthetically speaking and this is such a beautiful contrast to Joker’s own, which is deliberately loud and striking as now does he want to be noticed. You are extremely creative, skilled and life can be chaotic, and Joker is always in awe of you. That’s another thing which has never changed. You work extremely hard and Joker does what he can to take care of you, just as he always has, and much of what you have together is automatic for the both of you. You’re a makeup artist and sometimes Joker asks if you would like to put his makeup on for him; it’s an excuse to have you close enough to touch, a reason to spend more time with you, and a way to bond with you even more. He’s rather meticulous with the way he applies his greasepaint so when you did it for the first time and he realised that you had his method memorised, he chuckled; it was a sound saturated in light and in hope and at night does the sound reverberate inside your head. When you’re working in the apartment, Joker typically leaves you alone; he knows by now how you work and the conditions you prefer to work in and he does everything he can to preserve them for you. When you play the piano, Joker likes to listen. He will stand by the window, looking out at the city, and his eyes will close, his breath catching in his throat the longer he stands there. He loves you so deeply that sometimes does he wish that the refrains of the symphonies you play would sink deep within his mind, to become one with him so that always is a piece of the magic you hold dear to you with him forever.

You stutter when strangers talk to you and Joker isn’t much better; though he hides behind the confidence the city thinks he has in order to talk to people. You’re very socially awkward and so is Joker; there’s gaps in his knowledge about social conventions and the way social exchanges work but he tries to stay close to you when the two of you go out together so that he can figure it out for himself. It is easy for you to make friends and though he has ‘followers’, Joker still craves so desperately to be truly seen and understood. So far, you’re his one and only and Joker will never be able to thank you enough for loving him as hard and as deeply as you do. He tries every day to thank you for the gift which keeps on giving, your love for him, but he has no way of knowing that you want to thank him for loving you as hard as he does. You’re easily embarrassed and very clumsy and these two things don’t mix very well. You cry often and Joker always chuckles, cups your face in his hands with his fingers smoothing your tears away, and presses a tender and bruising kiss to your forehead. He tries to soothe your pain with his love, which is something you have always done for him, and sometimes when you trip on your way past him, he will swoop you up in his arms and dip you before he kisses you. “I know you said you fell for me, Y/N, but did you have to put on a show?” and other such things which make you blush more, which only makes Joker giggle, which makes you blush... it’s a never ending cycle sometimes but the two of you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

In conclusion, then, you and Arthur Fleck are truly meant to be. So much of what you have together was slow and hesitant but you fell together and then never stood back up; there are challenges and difficulties but you work through them together. You have such a deep love for each other and it keeps you coming back together again and again. You are young and he worries that he’s holding you down, holding you back, but you always assuage his fears and in turn does he soothe yours. There’s nothing you can’t make it through together, and just as Gotham got what it deserved, so too have the both of you.

[callboxkat]

Infinitesimal (part 22)

Author’s note: It’s a day late, but it’s here! Also, reminder that there won’t be an update this upcoming Monday, since I will be in Death Valley.

Warnings: illness, injury mention, death mention, a bit of arguing, food mention

Word count: 1617

Look in the notes for the masterpost!

...

As the afternoon wore into the evening, Virgil was relieved to see that Emile seemed to be continuing to improve. His throat was still sore, and he was clearly still tired, but he wasn’t nearly as dizzy, and his fever had gone down. Virgil wished he knew how to help Emile get better faster, but he was glad for the improvements either way.

Virgil looked through their things, trying to decide what would be best to bring Emile for dinner. Their food supply was running very low without Emile’s supply runs, but it wasn’t quite gone yet. At last he chose a piece of cereal, put it in a bowl, and mashed it up with a bit of water. Emile was having a hard time swallowing, so this would hopefully make it easier.

It had been a distressing past few days. Not that he would ever say it out loud—the thought was too terrifying to voice—but Virgil had feared for a while there that his brother was dying. There had been times that Emile had bordered on delirium, coughing and shivering despite how warm he felt to the touch. There was little that Virgil wouldn’t do to keep that from happening again.

As he walked back into the other room with the bowl, Virgil couldn’t help but think about times that he had put Emile in a similar position. When he’d hurt his foot, and later lost part of his tail, Virgil knew that Emile had been terrified. And while Virgil had already understood the reasons for the extreme overprotectiveness that Emile had shown for him afterwards, he did so better now. Having his brother hurting and not knowing what to do to help was a horrible feeling.

A bit of guilt welled up in Virgil’s chest as he thought about how much he had put Emile through in the past—not to mention how he’d probably feel if he knew not only that Virgil still left the safety of the walls, but how often.

Virgil sighed, lowering himself to sit by Emile, who was propped up on bundled up blankets in their nest. He laid his crutch at his side, where he had left its twin. “Here you go,” he said quietly, handing the bowl and spoon over to his brother, who nodded in thanks.

…

Patton blinked awake. It was still dark in the room, so why was he awake? It couldn’t have been too long since he’d fallen asleep. He sat up partway with a yawn, propped up on his elbows, and looked around for what had woken him. He got his answer a few seconds later when he saw the shadow at the edge of the table.

“Virgil,” he whispered in surprise, sitting up fully now.

“Hey, Patton.” Virgil sounded tired, he noticed with a frown.

“You okay, kiddo?” he asked. When Virgil only shrugged, he ‘Pat’ted the spot next to him hopefully. Virgil obliged him, coming nearer, and Patton scooted over as he sat down.

“Sorry I haven’t visited.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Patton said. “I’m fine.” He lay back down, his head on one half of his pillow. After a moment, Virgil lay down too, sighing softly. Patton looked at him for a second. “What’s going on?” he finally asked.

“Emile’s been sick. My brother.”

Patton frowned in concern, rolling onto his side. “Is he better now?”

“Mostly. It was a bit… scary, for a while, though. That’s why I haven’t come lately.” Virgil let out a soft laugh, not out of amusement, but pent-up stress. “I didn’t want to leave him for that long… but I didn’t even know what to do, so it’s not like I was of much use.”

“He’s better now,” Patton reminded him. “And I’m sure he’s glad you were there for him.”

“Yeah, but….” Virgil rubbed at one eye. “It’s just been a rough few days. I know it’s stupid, but I’m… I’m scared he’s going to get worse again.” His voice was starting to get shakier and softer the longer he spoke.

“We could talk about something else, if you want,” Patton offered. “Or not talk at all, if you just want to hang out.”

Virgil was silent for a moment. It seemed like he was going to choose the option to just stay there in silence together, but then he too rolled over onto one side, so the two were facing each other.

“How about you?” he asked.

“Me?”

“How are you doing?”

Patton turned to pull one of his blankets up to cover both of them. “I’m just fine, Virgil, like I said.”

“Are you well enough to leave?” Virgil asked after a second. Patton paused, the blanket only partially pulled up. Virgil waited a moment, but he continued when Patton didn’t say anything. “If you’re really doing better, we should go now,” he said.

Patton couldn’t help the small bloom of excitement in his chest at the prospect of finally getting away from humans. But…. He made an uncertain noise in his throat.

Virgil frowned. He looked down over at Patton’s hands, which Patton knew he would be able to tell were still bandaged, even with how dark it was. Patton pulled the blanket up the rest of the way.

“I think I am ready,” he said. And it was true: while he was still kind of weak, while his hands and bruised torso weren’t quite healed yet, he was almost sure that he could get away now, especially with Virgil’s help. “But I don’t know if leaving is the best choice right now.”

Virgil looked baffled. “Why?”

“Your brother. You need to focus on him right now.”

“I can focus on more than one thing. Besides, he’s getting better.”

“But what if he gets worse again?” Patton asked. “Which I doubt he will,” he quickly added, sensing Virgil tense. “But on the off chance… isn’t this a way to find out what to do if that happens? I could talk to the humans, or—or maybe fake his sickness, to figure out what you should do.”

“Patton… you don’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he assured gently.

“But I haven’t even done anything to deserve this… you deserve to be free, and you’ve been stuck here so long—I haven’t even come to see you in days! Why would you stay here with humans because of something that might happen?”

Patton waited for Virgil to finish, and he was about to answer when he was interrupted by the latter’s stomach growling. He hesitated, studying his face as best he could in the dark. “Virgil, have you eaten tonight? Or at all today?”

The silence served as his answer. Patton pushed himself up and went over to the food dish that had originally been in the cage—Logan still occasionally refilled it, for if Patton got hungry when the humans weren’t there. Patton picked out a few items: a peanut, some dried fruit, and a sunflower seed. He brought them over to Virgil.

“Take these,” he said, putting them down.

Virgil looked like he was going to refuse, but his stomach growled again before he could. He reluctantly sat up, picked up one of the pieces of dried fruit, and bit into it.

While he ate, Patton spoke. “Kiddo, I really do want to help you. You’ve done your best to help me, and I appreciate that so much. You tried to get me out of here when you first found me, you’ve come to visit—and don’t you feel bad about not doing that recently; family comes first. You even helped sew my outfit.” He paused, admiring the stitching on his new shirt, before looking back up. “You didn’t have to do any of that. Let me do this for you. As soon as Emile is better, you can come get me. Okay?”

“What if something happens to you?” Virgil asked, not looking at him.

Patton thought for a moment, biting his lip. “You know, Virge, I don’t think anything will.”

Virgil looked up sharply at the admission. “You’re starting to trust them, aren’t you?”

Patton shrugged guiltily. “Maybe. I know I shouldn’t, and I am acting sicker than I am, like you asked me to. But I really don’t think anything is going to happen. They’ve been listening to me, so far, on everything.”

“Not everything, clearly. They’re trying to keep you here against your will.”

“They haven’t put me back in the cage since that first night.”

“Only because they think you can’t get off the table.”

“Well… they don’t know that you helped me get down that first time,” Patton pointed out.

Virgil was starting to look exasperated. “Patton—.”

“Can we stop?” he asked, very softly. Virgil broke off immediately. “I know you’re worried about me. But I’m getting out of here very soon, right? As soon as Emile is better. So, it doesn’t matter whether the humans are planning anything or not, does it? I won’t be sticking around to find out.”

Virgil looked at him for a moment. He slowly nodded, and Patton’s shoulders dropped in relief. He didn’t want to argue.

The other little seemed to remember then that he hadn’t finished his food, and he slowly lifted the peanut back up to his mouth. Patton lay back down, and when Virgil was finished eating, he joined him again.

“Sorry,” Virgil sighed, adjusting the blanket. “I just want everyone to be safe.”

“I know,” Patton murmured.

Virgil reached out, seeming hesitant, and put his arm over Patton’s side, like he had done the first time he had come to visit Patton like this. Patton smiled and moved closer, closing his eyes.

...

Tag list: @arc852 @thats-so-crash @romanasanders @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @anyay666 @bluebloodstains @nightmarejasmine @side-for-sides @infinitesimal-grey @cobythinks @justanotherpurplebutterfly @punsterterry @dylan-winchesters-blog @wofie-kinz @i-like-cookiez @smol-jar-of-pickles @musicwithalex @brookeisanerd @scorching-scotch @of-swords-and-princes @thepoolofthedead @a-black-pegasus @brooky71 @downrightdanny @rainbow-sides  @anxiousvirgilsanderss @picklesandbeyond @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts  @gaylotusthatexists @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything

[333vam333]

The Nowhere | got7

{ CHAPTER 2 } edited a lil

Title: The Nowhere

Word Count: 1k+

Genre: Drama, Romance, Fantasy-ish, Mystery, Thriller-ish

Warnings: mentions of suicide, murder, a lil graphic (??), a lil profanity(??), a lil smut too ;)

Pairings: Park Jinyoung x reader, Im Jaebum x reader

Summary: After suffering years from the same nightmares that slowly get worse as you grow older, you learn why those taunting dreams come to you like memories you can’t remember in an unfortunate way.

~

Balmy sunlight brushes past the swaying curtains, caressing against your soft skin and brightening up the darkness in your closed eyes. As consciousness flows into you, you can feel the squishy and smooth surface underneath you, and you groan as you face away from the small window to your left. You bring your hands up to your eyes and freeze midway once you register what’s bandaged on your right arm. A skinny tube curls up your arm, stopping on the back of your hand being held down by a clear bandage. A transparent liquid flows through it. Your eyes follow the tube’s trail and stop when you see a bag of the same clear liquid.

Contorting your face in confusion, you take note of the continuous beeping emanating from beside the window, white bed sheets resting on your legs, and a plastic curtain blocking your view of the rest of the room beside you. Your eyes gaze around the dimly lit room, taking in the sun’s rays spraying a light tangerine color across the white walls and beige, glossy wood floor. 

You face the window again, staring at the tree that splattered oddly shaped shadows in the room, the branches oscillating steadily in the calm breeze. The soft chirping of birds in the distance flows into your ears, comforting you like a lullaby as the memories of last night ram into your mind. 

Your sister’s panic-stricken voice still rings in your head, causing a wave of guilt to flood over you. You release a quivering sigh and glance over at the curtain at your left, wondering if your sister is on the other side. Your heart stops, tears blurring your vision, How badly did I hurt you?..

 The faint clanking of glass grabs your attention and you look at the cabinet past your feet. You tilt your head, eyeing a person crouched in front of the small, two-door cabinet, pushing bottles out of the way only to set them back in their places carefully. You rise slowly on your elbows hoping for a better look at the person, but a wave of nausea swarms over you and your head wobbles, your vision making twos of everything. Wincing, you begin to rub your temples and close your eyes. The feeling doesn’t last long.

The man who kept mumbling to himself was now standing, running a hand through his raven black hair frustratingly, and his other hand on his hip. His white-coated back faced you. Opening your mouth to speak is cut short when the brown pastel colored door swings open, the man standing in front of you jumps and gasps, as another man stands in the door way with his arms crossed.

“O-Oh!” the man’s voice, who stood before you, cracked, “H-Hyung! Hey, how’s it goin?” He puts his hands on his hips, pushing his doctor’s coat behind him.

The man in the door way rolled his eyes and shook his head, dropping his arms. “I told you you had no reason to be here, and why are you wearing my coat?” His eyes widen and points to the nametag as he took a few steps up to his friend. 

The other man stepped back, forcing a giggle out.  “Hm? No, my name is Im Jaebum too!”

Jaebum squints his eyes, lowering his eyebrows and cursing under his gritted teeth. He releases a agitated sigh and the dull tone of his voice raises , “You always do this..Leave before-” 

Your eyes meet and you suddenly feel small, his dark eyes piercing into your skin peculiarly. It remains silent for a few seconds before Jinyoung utters gleefully, “What?..Finally realize how much you want me here?” Jinyoung opens his arms as Jaebum begins to walk forward in a daze, his expression a mixture of astonishment and relief, past his baffled friend and towards you. Your eyes don’t leave each other until he’s standing beside you.

“How are you feeling?” Jaebum questions in a hushed voice, one that embraces you in a welcoming vibe. 

You don’t answer. You’re too taken aback by his surreal appearance. His chiseled features are screaming at you, making your face flush the longer you stare at his unblemished rosy-pale skin. His narrow eyes curve into a crescent as the corners of his heart-shaped lips curl up. Eyeing the two teeny birthmarks above his left eye, you bring a smile up to your face, but it vanishes as your sister crosses your mind.

“My sister..” your hand flies to your throat once you realize the pinch in your throat, your eyes widening, “ where is she?” You continued despite sounding like a smoker.

Jaebum furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, mouthing the word ‘sister?’ as the other guy approaches you. You spot the water bottle in his hand before you get to see his face, and as you chug the water down, the cool liquid burning down your throat gives you a strange satisfaction as you can feel it drop in your stomach. You gasp once you take the bottle away from you and hear a giggle coming from the left side of you. You hadn’t noticed but Jinyoung sat at the end of the bed, just near your feet making a little indention on the twin-sized mattress.

“Aw. You’re cute.” Jinyoung’s eyes disappear and the corners of his eyes wrinkle, the smile on his full lips is bright.

Jinyoung’s features aren’t chiseled as Jaebum’s are instead he has a childish appearance with his squishy face. He gives off the ‘friendly-neighbor’ vibe the more you stare at him, making it more easier to look at him without becoming a blushing mess. 

“Sorry to tell you, Y/N,” your eyes are on Jaebum again. You didn’t see a joyful smile plastered on his perfect face and as he sets a comforting hand on your shoulder, your heart skips a beat. And not because he’s attractive.

You began to brace yourself for whatever Jaebum was about to tell you, biting the inside of your cheek and gripping your hands tightly together. You inhale sharply in hopes to suck in the swelling tears and thoughts of the unwanted. Please..please don’t let it be so bad..

  “We found only you in the vehicle.”

What.

Your widened eyes slowly narrow, your mouth smiling in disbelief. You begin to cackle unsure whether it’s from relief that you didn’t have to hear ‘sister’ and ‘dead’ in the same sentence, or because his information was unconvincing. You, out of everyone, knew your sister was with you when you had the deer-like reaction when those bright lights approached the both of you. You remember feeling your sister’s newly painted fingernails digging into the backs of your hands, and her frantic, ear-piercing voice repeat your name as if she was a broken record.

You stare up at Jaebum, wiping your tears, with a foolish grin carved into your face. “There’s no way! She was with me, her nails dug into my hands, I swear, look!” You bring your hands up to his face but you realize your evidence is useless to him. He probably assumes it’s glass.. You frown, bringing your hands down in defeat. 

“Maybe she hit her head harder than we assumed?” Jinyoung murmurs loud enough for you to hear. You shoot him a death-glare and he jumps when you make eye contact. He leans to Jaebum and whispers to him while he keeps his wide eyes on you, watching to see if you would attack him. “She’s scarier than I thought, Hyung.”

His words make you think, Than I thought? Did he know me?..

You shake your head and decide to not let it bother you. “Where am I then?” 

“A hospital.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Jinyoung!” Jaebum growls, holding his clenched fist behind him. He inhales deeply and faces you, forcing a smile out. “Y/N, I asked around to see if anyone knew you here, but unfortunately you have no family or friends that can take you in for the time being.”

“Why would I need to stay?..I need to be in Seoul-”

“You’re still not feeling well.” Jaebum didn’t let you to finish, like whatever you had to say didn’t matter.

Everything that left his kissable lips flew over your head. Nothing made sense, and it caused your head to ache when you focused on it too hard. 

“Y-Yes I am-I mean, sure, my head was hurting earlier but that’s because I got up too fast..” you freeze, furrowing your eyebrows and squinting your eyes as you face away from the both of the men. “Right?..”

Jinyoung shakes his head as soon as your eyes land on him. “Your leg is sprained,” he gestures to the blanket and your gaze follows. You hadn’t realized your leg was bandaged or even sore all because your family was the only thing that concerned you.

“Your mind is everywhere, Y/N, take it easy.” Jaebum says assuringly, rubbing your back in comforting circles.

But it doesn’t work. You can feel your blood begin to boil, the urge to pounce on him consuming your mind, and your fists clenching so hard your nails are making your palms ooze blood from the tiny crevices. Jaebum takes note of this and steps back.

“We need to establish where you’ll be staying.” he continues, putting his hand on his chin in deep thought. 

“Can’t I just stay here?-”

“Oh!” Jinyoung’s eyes brighten and he snaps, almost like he thought of the most brilliant idea. You swore you could see a light bulb flash above his head for a split second. “Hey, Hyung, how about she stay with us?”

The amount of times your face has contorted into confusion is more than you would normally recall ever doing. “Uh-”

Jaebum’s mouth hung open in disbelief and he shook his head violently, “We can’t handle another person in the house, Jinyoung! You don’t even help me take care of the messes, and they’re mostly yours because I’m hardly home!”

Jinyoung’s smile is too bright it’s almost blinding. He grabs your hands, shaking them slightly. “Oh, you’re gonna love your time with us, Y/N.”

~

Well, this is something. I kinda got lazy midway, but I guess it’s alright. Hehe.

 It’s also shorter than what I’m used to writing, but that’s because I’m also working on something else as well. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! 

oof.

[kilesplaysthings]

IkeSen Custom MC/OC Meme

(just so you know, i’m pulling this straight outta thin air lol it’s late and i’m brainstorming as i fill this out XD)

Hello there, time-traveler / feudal heroine / warlord! What’s your name?

Oh hey there! My name is Ana Hill (I’ve been told I need to work on my Japanese letters - and I probably should be writing this in Japanese too - but hey, what Ieyasu doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?!)

Age? Height?

21! Uh, I guess about 5′3 or so?

What’s your fashion like? [Time travelers – pre & post-wormhole!]

Well, before I pulled a Marty McFly back into the Sengoku, my style was..um..nothing? I dunno, a simple t-shirt and jeans did the job for me. And Converse. Man..I miss my Converse.. Well, at my job I had to wear a nice pantsuit as well. Not too big on skirts, but I liked wearing dresses now and then. Heels were ok, but only for formal occasions. Now that I’m here in the good ol’ 1500s, I like to rock the kimono, if you know what I mean. Though I’ve been seriously considering swiping one of Mitsunari’s..or Ieyasu’s Hakama sometimes (they seem closer to my size, I think). Those look very comfortable!

Where are you from?

Glouchester, Massachusetts (USA) 

Feudal era – pros and/ or cons?

Ooh boy, here we go. Pros: It’s quieter here, plus the scenery is beautiful, like the different castles and shrines I’ve seen, not to mention all the nature!! Oh, and no pollution, either!! I get to be up close and personal with a lot of wildlife too, like horses! I’ve learned how to ride one too! Which is something I’ve always wanted to learn! Since I’ve been set up as a Princess I’ve been treated pretty well and everyone is very kind and helpful. And there’s a lot of lovely kimono I’ve been allowed to try on. Cons: Language barrier is worse in this time period. I could get by with speaking Japanese back in the modern day, but here, it’s different.. and I’m completely lost when it comes to reading their alphabet! I had no idea the letters changed over time! Also, they don’t call it the Sengoku era for nothing! It’s one thing to see it in the movies, it’s another thing to hear about and see the real thing. There are some things I don’t think I’ll ever un-see.. As for more lighthearted matters, I do miss wifi, not gonna lie.. and air conditioning... what I wouldn’t give for air conditioning again.....(and tampons but ANYWAYS)

If you’re not in your homeland/time, do you want to go home?

I do miss my grandparents, but also my time was also the time where I had to watch my mom die... so... a little bit of yes and a little bit of no...

What’s your home life like?

I lived with my grandparents, whose parents actually immigrated from Portugal. My dad was of some other nationality, like German or Dutch, I think. He skipped out on us when I was a kid. My mom died in my teens. You know, being able to actually speak a little Portuguese helps with the warlords? At least, with Nobunaga and Hideyoshi. Didn’t realize there were Portuguese merchants that visited Japan back then. The more you know, I guess!

You just got your dream job! What is it? / Or, what’s your line of work?

My line of work WAS being an English teacher in Kyoto. There was a cool exchange program in school that allowed us to go to Japan and I loved it. After that I learned that you could get a job that allowed you to teach English over there. I loved Japan, and I wanted to be a teacher. The rest is history. heh...

Any other hobbies or skills? Do you use them / how do you use them in the Sengoku period?

I’m a big movie buff. American film, French film, Japanese film, Korean film.. name it, I’ll watch it. It’s just a hobby of mine. Nothing very useful for the Sengoku period, though. Watching Kurosawa films does NOT make one a Sengoku scholar, I found. Though it is fun seeing all those warlords baffled at my lame 80s references.

Where is your base of operations? Azuchi Castle? Kasugayama Castle? A pirate ship? Running all over the woods or in a secret monastery? Some other cool place?

Azuchi. Nobunaga and Masamune were names I recognized. And Nobunaga can speak some Portuguese, so I went along with him. Good choice? Bad choice? We’ll see...

How do you feel about killing and violence?

It’s the Sengoku period. It’s just what goes on here. That doesn’t mean I like it, and that it doesn’t scare me half to death, but I just kinda...live with it? I couldn’t kill a person myself, though. Unless maybe in self-defense.

Have you learned to fight? If so, what’s your weapon and/or fighting style of choice?

Fighting kind of scares me. I did agree to learn how to shoot a bow. And Masamune gave me a dagger to protect myself.

What are you fighting for?

To survive? Being a Princess of Azuchi isn’t always safe, I’ve found. Especially when its Lord decides to drag me into battle even though he knows I don’t know a thing about fighting??!!

What are your feelings about authority?

Hey man, I don’t like dictators, but I come from a different time period. I can’t just assume that people are gonna understand or agree with the morals that I’m used to. If someone is pointing a sword or a pistol in my face, I’m not gonna act stupid and be disrespectful, you know? There’s a time and a place for things.

How do you handle someone invading your personal space?

If it’s someone I know and am close with, I don’t mind it at all! But if they’re a stranger, I get uncomfortable.

…do you invade people’s personal space?

I wouldn’t say so, unless, again, if you’re someone I am close with. 

Are you more open, or more reserved? Are you secretive?

I tend to be more on the open side. I can keep a secret, though, if need be (though it depends on if I think its something that should be kept secret).

Is this the first time you’ve been truly in love?

With a real person that I actually know? Yes...

What’s your style as a lover? (interpret this as innocently or not-innocently as you please ;) )

I can be a bit of a cuddler. Again, if I know you, I like to be close. Kissing is..yes. I like it.. I also like to play with hair and have mine played with. Honestly, just snuggling close to someone and talking about anything and everything is a perfect way to spend an afternoon for me. I’m not too complicated. I grew up in a small house where we shared everything. I’m used to simple things and am easy to please.

What are your favorite ways for someone to show you love?

Simple, everyday things please me. A nice comment, a random hug or kiss, a sweet gesture; just something that shows they were thinking of me... I grew up being taught that family is very important, so knowing that I am wanted and that I can be a part of someone else’s family would be a wonderful thing.

Do you use a petname or endearments for your lover(s)?

Hmmmm...maybe? When I was little, my grandfather once said my grandmother was fofo, which means cute or soft. Maybe I’d call him that...

How do you feel about…

Nobunaga? Weird. A mix of scary, funny, childish, and admirable all rolled up into that...admittedly attractive...mountain of a man. Good conversationalist too. It’s extremely entertaining telling him all of the stories from movies and books back at home.

Hideyoshi?  Scary at first, but super sweet once he got used to me. Very helpful and considerate. I’m slowly but surely winding him down and helping him chill out about Nobunaga sneaking out to get candy (because I want some of my own, darn it!!!)

Masamune? Also Scary. But man can he cook! Also he has a PET TIGER. One of these days, im stealing Shogetsu and keeping him for myself!

Ieyasu? Porcupine. Also a good teacher, but super strict! Gave me a real appreciation for herbal medicines.

Mitsunari? He’s SO CUTE? Literally, the cutest person I’ve ever seen?? Good study buddy, too. He’s helping me learn the language better and I’m teaching him English!

Mitsuhide? Scary. But cool. But scary. But funny. I can’t tell you how many times he’s made fun of the way I’ve stared at him since we’ve met.

Shingen? Hot. Too hot. Dangerous. gotta keep your eye on that one. May or may not have imagined him in a suit.

Kenshin? He’s got..two different colored eyes? Like a cat? Intimidating as all get-out. All he thinks about is war. Needs a hobby like stamp collecting. I want to touch his fluffy haori.

Yukimura? Reminds me of a guy I knew in school. Kind of a jock, but not the kind that has a way with the ladies. Lovable but awkward. That kind of guy. He’s funny when he’s with Sasuke though. Hilarious to tease too. He called me an enchantress one time and I tried to sing that one song from Hocus Pocus to him. Didn’t go well.

Sasuke?  Bestest pal ever. Would 100% time travel with him again. We have so many inside jokes we could write a book. (omg we should do that.. gotta remind myself to tell him that next time I see him!!) It’s a shame he lives so far away.

Kennyo? A warrior monk who wants to kill but also loves animals? Doesn’t compute. If only I could get him to a therapist...

Motonari?  I’m gonna teach him the “Pirates Life for Me” song one of these days...that is, if he doesn’t try to kill me or kidnap me or something first...

Any other friends/notables?

I did have some friends when I was teaching English, yes. I also got along with my students pretty well too. Mostly, it’s my grandparents I worry about while I’m stuck here...

Freestyle! Tell us anything else you’d like to share!

I have a massive sweet tooth like big man Nobunaga here. Hideyoshi has accused me of encouraging his addiction.. it’s true, sadly. Portuguese merchants are my best friends and I’ve haggled them enough that I get some of their delicacies for lower prices. I’m becoming Nobunaga’s best friend because of this, I think. My name might as well be Lucky Charm. Shingen may or may not have recruited me to his sweet dumpling team though. Those are super good...

*goes to think about all the sweets she misses*

Thanks for introducing yourself! ♡

(you rock, @nyktoon-ikemenlove !)

[stillthewordgirl]

LOT/CC fic: What’s Freely Given

Leonard Snart survived the Oculus. Now, if he'll just wake up, he and Sara (and Mick) have a few things to say to each other.

Written for Day One of the Captain Canary Week! Prompt: Pre-dating.

I was torturing myself watching the CC kiss and started thinking about how much it must have tortured Leonard, controlled individual that he is, when he realized he'd never be sure what was the Time Bastards yanking his strings via the Oculus and what wasn't...unless they destroyed it.

Slight side order of ColdWave, which can be read platonic or not. Many thanks to @larielromeniel for the beta! Can also be read here at AO3 or here at FF.net.

"Get 'im out of here."

"No."

"Just do it."

"Get 'im out of here."

"No."

"Just do it."

"Get 'im out of here."

"No."

"No!" Sara's eyes fly open, her heart hammering, and she drags in a rough breath, struggling up onto an elbow. The room is darkened (and the afterimages of blue light on the inside of her eyelids make it seem darker still), but she looks to her side immediately, throwing out a hand...

But he's there. Still there

And for the first time since the Oculus, she realizes, he's awake.

Sara draws in a steadier breath, reaching for calm, settling back onto her side and staring at the conscious, mostly whole Leonard Snart who's staring back at her from the inside half of his own bed on the Waverider. His eyes are wide and baffled, and he looks as though he can't quite breathe—not in a medical way, but as if he's still getting his bearings, here in the land of the living, when the last time she'd seen him awake...

"Leonard," she whispers, reaching out a hand but stopping as he makes a movement almost like a flinch. He reaches up with his left hand to scrub at his face, and it's such an oddly childlike gesture that it goes right to her heart. Then he looks at her again.

There are no walls here; his ordeal has stripped them away. She's never seen Leonard completely without his ice and his snark; she's not sure that anyone alive has, not even Mick. But those blue eyes have no shutters on them, not right now, and they hadn't even been like that at...at the failsafe.

At the Vanishing Point, when she'd appeared at the Waverider, dragging Mick and yelling, babbling really, about Leonard and the Oculus, Jax and Stein had exchanged a startled look and joined hands, merging, as if they'd somehow known this was going to happen. Firestorm had rocketed toward the building where she'd...where she'd had to leave Leonard with his hand buried in the failsafe, even as Rip yelled at them all to get the hell back onto the ship, even as Mick had stirred and groaned, even as Sara, heart in her throat and trying not to hope, had dragged him onboard until Ray (groggy and semiconscious himself) could help her. She'd spun to head after Firestorm, but the hatch was closing in her face, even as she yelled at Rip and he stoically took her anger, something set and grieving in his own expression, and the ship was being buffeted by energy, and...

And then, red and golden flames against the waves of blue temporal energy, there was Firestorm, and his burden. Rip, disbelieving, had lowered the hatch just enough to let him onboard.

When the Oculus blew, Firestorm had managed to transmute and siphon off the explosive and temporal energy around himself and most of the energy buffeting his burden-- but not all of it, and it'd been a messed-up, singed and utterly dead-to-the-world Leonard Snart, one nearly unrecognizable to his teammates, who'd been lowered carefully to the deck before Jax and Stein had separated, both of them exhausted from the effort to do so.

Somehow, they’d gotten Leonard to the medbay without hurting him more—at least, as far as Sara knows. She’d knelt on the deck in their wake, reaching out to touch the tattered, ashy remains of a very familiar black jacket, so damaged now that it'd fallen right off him. Part of the sleeve had flaked off in her hands.

She followed the others.

Gideon, with assistance, had gotten Leonard’s dislocated shoulder (“He didn’t realize what was happening, was bound and determined to hang on,” Jax had said apologetically) in place and the burns on that arm started healing. Then, she’d run brain scans, paused, and suggested quietly that he'd probably be more comfortable in his own room, when (they all heard "if") he woke.

Sara and Mick had taken in her hesitant tone in varied expressions of numbness, and it'd been Ray and Stein, somehow, that pressed the AI and Rip until they admitted that they had no idea what that sort of blast of temporal energy would do to a human being. That it might have destroyed his mind, or set it adrift in time, or somehow reset it.

After a long moment, Mick, silent, had picked up his unconscious friend as if he were a child, Len's head lolling on his shoulder, and carried his motionless burden out of the medbay, Sara following in his wake.

Mick had made his way to Leonard’s room, the door opening before them and remaining open long enough for Sara to step in too. There, he'd gently laid his friend on the bed, making an awkward and abortive attempt to drag a sheet over him before giving up. He'd stared at the other man for so long that Sara took a step back, feeling like an intruder.

Mick had spun, then, reaching out to grab her wrist, a movement that startled both of them. They'd stared at each other another long moment before Mick cleared his throat and spoke.

"You stay wit' him, Blondie," he said quietly, a plea. "I...I can't do this yet."

At Sara’s questioning look, he’d shrugged. “Jerk tried to freakin' blow himself up to save my life,” he rumbled. “I don’t…he…we…we don’t do feelings. Whadda I do with that?”

“You've saved each other's lives before,” Sara noted, turning her wrist around in his loose grip to wrap her fingers around his.

“Yeah, but…he'd'a died. Shoulda died. Hell.” Mick glanced at his friend, then gave her a helpless look. “Just…can you stay? Someone should.”

“Of course I will.”

Leonard had been sprawled across the bed so bonelessly that it seemed like it’d be easy to shift him a little farther. Instead, he’d been…Sara flinched away from the words…an utter dead weight. In the end, she’d just removed his boots and sort of slipped in besides him, reassured, a bit, by the faint (too faint, really) sound of steady breathing.

He hadn’t stirred.

She’d lost track of time since that moment. She doesn't think much has passed…not enough for them to catch up to Savage and rescue Kendra and Carter, let alone Rip’s family. (Someone, surely, would have told her that.) The team, undoubtedly, has had Gideon keeping tabs on Len’s vital signs, but they’d left the pair alone. Sara had alternated dozing and staring at the ceiling, wondering, hoping…

And then, she’d been sleeping.

Until now.

Leonard’s expression is so different from anything she’s ever seen on him before that Sara has to wonder, for a moment, about Gideon’s warning that his mind might be affected. But then he scrubs a hand over his face again, and mumbles: "Sara?"

He knows her. That has to be a good sign. “Yes.”

"I...hell. I saw...” He blinks at her, then abruptly tries to get himself into a sitting position, grunting as his arm fails him but somehow managing it anyway. "Where's Mick?"

Impossible not to recognize the concern, almost panic, there. "He's fine,” she reassures him. “He's OK. He's somewhere on the ship. He...he carried you here. From medbay." She takes a deep breath, shifting to settle against the bulkhead, as he’s not showing any alarm at her closeness. "Do you remember anything?"

His eyes drop to her lips.

It’s almost involuntary, and it doesn’t come with the smirk or wiseass comment Sara knows a Leonard on his game would pair with it, but she’s startled into a smile. He’s in there. The Leonard she knows is in there. It’s impossible to stifle the spark of hope, first ignited when she’d seen Firestorm outside the ship and now fanned into a cautious blaze.

Leonard doesn’t seem to realize what he’d done. Instead, he frowns, thoughtfully, shifting a little but seemingly too distracted as of yet to be fully cognizant of his arm bundled to his side and swathed in bandages.

“The Time Bastards,” he says slowly. “And then there was...there was light...I thought…”

His eyes fly to her face, then, and she can tell that memory is starting to settle in more. But his eyes stay open, and now they’re pleading with her, to tell him, what had happened, what he’d done…

“Firestorm got you out,” Sara tells him, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. “But you're hurt, and...you'd taken such a dose of temporal energy that Gideon wasn't sure how it'd affect you. If you'd wake up the same or..." If you'd wake up at all.

Leonard cuts in, learning toward her, the pleading in his eyes even stronger. He looks down in puzzlement as if he finally realizes something’s wrong with his arm. “The Oculus is gone?” he asks urgently. “Gone? You’re sure?”

“Yes. You..." She swallows, her throat hurting again suddenly. "You blew it up.”

"The Oculus is gone."

“Yes, Leonard.”

The sigh that explodes out of him is unexpected in its force and he pulls back a tiny bit, regarding her. And then, with great surprise, she realizes, there in the darkened room, that he’s…flushed a little. She leans forward a little in puzzlement, and catches a spark in his eyes even as he reaches up and lets the fingertips of his good hand brush her cheek.

A casual touch. From Leonard Snart. Just what is going on here?

Sara takes a deep breath and watches him watching her. There's an uncanny stillness to the room, and she suddenly thinks of a term she'd heard Ray use once. It's like, she decides, this is a liminal space, a gateway, a between created when the Oculus vanished in blue light.

Maybe this is a new Leonard. A new Sara. Perhaps, out there on the ship somewhere, it's a new Mick, too, struggling to come up with the words he needs, the ones that never come easy.

"I..." Leonard licks his lips, then, glancing away. "I wanted to be sure that it was gone."

"Oh, it's gone..."

But he's rushing onward, in an explosion of words just as uncharacteristic as the touch. "I don't do feelings, Sara. Not really, not in years. But then I got on this damned ship...and there was the team. And then there was...there was..."

He stops, but Sara picks up the thread, clued in by the way he's glancing away again.

"Me and you?" she asks carefully.

"Yeah." A furtive glance back at her. "I couldn't take not knowing. If it was real. Or not."

Oh.

He nods as he sees she understands, continuing. "Or if Mick decided to betray me...the crew...to off me on his own, to come back on his own. Or if they were just pulling his strings the whole time. If I made the decision to...to..." He winces. "...to be a...hero...on my own."

A deep breath. "I needed to know," he repeats. "I couldn't...move forward...if I didn't know."

Silence. A liminal space, Sara thinks.

"It's gone," she repeats, bringing her hand up to thread her fingers through his. "The Oculus. You know, now. What...what do you want to do?"

OK, that's definitely the flash of a smirk.

"I think I'd sorta like to steal that kiss," he says finally, an actual smile tugging at a corner of his mouth. "If it won't get me stabbed."

Sara feels an answering smile tugging at her month. She moves a little closer, noting that he does, too, awkwardly and with a grunt of pain, then leans over, slowly enough that he could pull away if he wanted (he doesn't) and kisses him.

Their second kiss is no romantic, grand gesture, no desperate goodbye, just two people tentatively trying to see how, if, this might work. They're both exhausted and a bit filthy, and Leonard's painkillers are going to run out soon, but their mouths fit together just as well as before, maybe better. Sara feels the rush, the spark of attraction, taking over as Leonard pulls his hand away and moves it to her jaw, adjusting the angle a little, and she's the one to deepen the kiss, then, humming, at his swift intake of breath.

When they break away, they're both smiling. Sara shakes her head, telling her libido to cool it, and reaches down to rest her hand over his heart, feeling it beat steadily beneath her fingertips.

"You can't steal," she tells him quietly, "what's freely given."

He starts to speak. Stops. Watches her there in the stillness. A liminal space.

Do they really need more words? Not, she decides, right now.

Unfortunately, Gideon doesn't agree. "Mr. Snart?" the AI asks tentatively. "May I let the others know that you are...awake and coherent? They are concerned, but I thought you might not wish me to transmit your, ah, vital signs when..." She pauses. "Well."

They've flustered the AI. Leonard lets out a strangled chuckle, and Sara smirks, then kisses him quickly again. It goes off base, lands sort of between his nose and the corner of his mouth, and he reaches for her again in a clear attempt to pull her closer even as she moves away, sitting up.

"You need rest, and now that I know you're OK, I need to go see what's going on." She pauses. "Want me to get Mick?"

Leonard's eyes are already at half-mast again. "Nah yet," he says, voice muffled as he runs a hand over his face again. "Still don' know what to say t'him."

Love comes in many forms. Sara knows this, even if he's not ready to acknowledge it. So, she just shakes her head, pulling a sheet up over him as he tries to get comfortable, resting a hand briefly on his shoulder.

"You two are messed up, you know that?" There's affection in her tone, and she knows he can hear it.

"You like us this way."

"Yeah, she says quietly, looking down at him, a sense of peace stealing over her for the first time since she'd realized what has going to happen, there at the Oculus failsafe. "I do."

[movedto-dazaipositive]

one guess where this started. couldn't have done it without @taggianto 💜 you.

CW: rape and resultant pregnancy; severe self-worth issues; mentally ill character with wrong ideas about what constitutes mental illness.

so, I've got a running headcanon that Kent's mom is alcoholic and she has ptsd.

rape & pregnancy TW // she was raped in college and that's how she got pregnant with Kent. she kept him out of choice, but she loves him no matter what

but that doesn't change the fact that she has ptsd and for many years while she was working 3 jobs to keep them alive and Kent on the ice, and she had to get through somehow. so she drank at home

and she wasn't ever really there for Kent. she couldn't be, between drinking and working. does Kent resent her? I don't think so. I don't think he knew it was even an option until he met the Zimmermanns and Jack

and saw the way they behaved with each other. but he loves his mom and he'd do anything for her. it's why he sticks with hockey even when it hurts–his mom worked hard to get him where he is, and he can't let her down now

but she crashes around the time Kent is 16/17. she's no longer got Kent around to survive for, and it really messes her up. and Kent watches Jack and his mom crash and burn, up close and from afar, and it fucks him up

like, bad. he can't stop thinking that it was him, that he's the reason they're the way they are. that he's the only thing they have in common and they're both–the way they are, and it must be him. it must be Kent

jack's OD breaks Kent, pushes him over the edge of a cliff he was already clinging to with his fingertips. he shuts down completely and only surfaces to a) send his mom to rehab with his first NHL paycheck b) and play hockey

he withdraws completely. cuts himself off from human contact at the exact time he needs it the most. he spends his rookie year with the Aces Captain, Patty, his wife and their two kids, barely holding on to his humanity

it's a good thing the team forces Kent out regularly, because otherwise he'd turn into an Actual Hockey Robot. it's not that he isn't friendly with them–he plays beautiful hockey and laughs and chirps with the rest of them, but there's something off about it. he's skittish and awkward, and he gets this look in his eyes sometimes, like he survived something awful but not really.

like he isn't all there. they worry about him. he's too small and too good at hockey and he needs someone to watch out for him

the first year, it's the whole team. all how-many-ever of them, looking out for Kent on and off the ice. the second year, Jeff comes to them

Jeff is...good with Kent.

Jeff's been playing on the NHL for a couple years, got drafted third or fourth to the Seattle Schooners. he's a good teammate, dryly funny, chirps that take a second to sink in. he plays good hockey, not as good as Kent, but good.

but he seems to know, instinctively, what Kent needs at any given moment

Jeff drags Kent into being social and actually, y'know, forming meaningful connections with other people by giving Kent puppy eyes until Kent agrees to hang out with Jeff and teammate of the week

and Kent, horribly unused to being someone people want to spend time with and nearly incapacitated by loneliness after a year of next to no human connection, says yes every time

and Kent is a person? under that weird obsessive hockey robot exterior? he's fun to hang out with. he's even funny. he's a bit a total dork and likes helping people and he always knows a good place to eat

so people on Kent's team start to seek his company even without Swoops around and Kent goes ? but he doesn't like to let people down or say no

Kent is still like, messed up inside. he doesn't sleep well and there are a lot of days when he won't get out of bed of he doesn't have to. but he's still trying

except... he's not trying to be better at Humaning for himself. he's doing it for Jeff and the people who depend upon him to show up and entertain their kids for two hours so they can go on a date

the only thing that's changed is the manifestation of Kent's chronic self-sacrificing and the people who receive it.

and Kent is honestly trying really hard and overcompensating for a year of not being a good Human Person so he swamps himself in helping people and overworks himself

and it's Jeff that picks up the pieces of Kent's dumbassery. it's Jeff that calls people to let them know that Kent has the flu, no they haven't been to the doctor yet, yes he's mostly okay he's puking right now, so no he can't come and take care of your kids Patty find a fucking babysitter you're a millionaire jfc

(Patty is kind of a dick)

Kent: [in between puking] but I promised

Jeff: shut the fuck up

Kent's bedridden for almost a week. he misses two games, both of which the Aces lose

it's during this week that Jeff realises just how fucked up Kent is, because in the middle of puking his guts out and shivering under six blankets he still finds time to blame himself for everything that goes wrong in that week. e v e r y s i n g l e t h i n g. it's not really Kent's fault, being sick pulls down all walls that keep him from airing the constant internal monologue of self blame and loathing, but Jeff calls his cousin Rashmi and has a slight breakdown

well, I say slight. he nearly cries

Jeff needs to talk about how much Kent is hurting and omg I never knew im a terrible friend eeeee

she tells him to a) calm the fuck down b) don't take this so personally, you can't help him if you think you're the one to blame, he's doing that already c) here's a bunch of helpful links on how to deal when you think your friend might be mentally ill

Jeff tries to be subtle about bringing up the 'you might be mentally ill thing'. Kent, however, is not dumb. he catches on to this really fast, and panics hard. his only experience with mentally ill folks is his mom and Jack, and they are not a good place to start–both addicts who've been unintentionally emotionally abusive to Kent. Kent draws the best conclusion he can with this data pool. the conclusion is I am a horrible person who will soon be drug addict and hurt the people around me, whoops time to Shut Down

Kent [shutting down] I am a horrible person that deserves nothing good, ever. Jeff: nO Kent: I can't hear you over the sound of my self loathing Jeff: N O

and Jeff does not know how to deal with a Kent who's gone straight back to rookie year levels of skittish I-am-a-virus-don't-touch-me. the team, on the other hand, knows perfectly well how.

or, at least, they know how they dealt with it. but they're hockey players, with the combined emotional intelligence of a nail clipper, and when they tell Jeff about it he's horrified. so he figures out his own methods–he sticks as close to Kent as possible while not overwhelming him, and he does his best to be Supportive

it is difficult to be supportive when the person you are Supporting does not want to be supported. so he does his research, and hits upon the perfect solution

he goes to the local pet shelter and asks for the most unlikely to be adopted kitten, because he knows that Kent has a soft spot for hopeless things

they give him a three month old Calico, blind and almost certainly headed to a shelter without a no kill rule

Jeff: ......I'll take it

Kent is baffled and enchanted. Jeff really thought it'd be harder to sell this to Kenny, but Kent's holding squirmy, curious little kit, already babytalking to her, asking her if she knows what a pretty princess she is, yes you are, aren't you and Jeff has a second where he thinks Oh, shit

bc this more humanity and interest than Kent has shown in almost a month, and then Kent is turning to Jeff to ask him questions about raising cats that Jeff didn't even know were a concern, but clearly this is making Kent happy, so Jeff gives him a book he'd picked up at the recommendation of the volunteer at the shelter, and drives Kent helplessly to the pet store and watches as Kent buys cat shit off Amazon

Kent doesn't realise she's blind, at first. kit (Jeff named her) has large golden eyes that are permanently dilated. Kent only figures out she's blind when he's sitting on the floor watching her toddle around, and she keeps walking into his outstretched legs. Kent calls Jeff in a panic, asking him if he knows what's with kit's eyes, and Jeff thinks I knew I was forgetting something

and then he explains the situation to Kent, and Kent reacts exactly the way Jeff expected him to–with a sudden fierce dedication to kit, even more so than ten minutes ago when he would have died for her

Kent cat-proofs his house–he pours a lot of time and money into getting everything exactly right so Kit needn't suffer more than necessary. he lavishes Kit with all the love he's capable of–and he's always capable of a lot more love than he thinks–and makes sure that everyone coming to his house knows that one move that frightens Kit is more than enough to get them banned

so Kent pours himself heart and soul into loving kit. he spends every second he isn't on the ice taking care of his beloved baby princess

and it's incredibly healing. he knows he has to get up in the morning and come back after runs (not walk into traffic) and that he has to get done on the ice so he can come back to her

and it's incredibly healing. he knows he has to get up in the morning and come back after runs (not walk into traffic) and that he has to get done on the ice so he can come back to her

there's a period of like, six months, where the only reason Kent does anything at all is because kit needs him to. and he won't let himself think about how Jeff could also maybe take care of her. he won't.

his mom's rehab clinic is expensive but ridiculously intensive and extensive. it's almost 14 months of rehab and therapy and relearning hire to be a person without addiction, as well as working through whatever led you to seek addiction in the first place

Diana Parson comes out of it changed. she feels more like a person than ever before in her life. she feels whole, healed still, but so much better

so she goes back home, and Kent is in Vegas depressed as fuck, and his mom is in New York living for herself, and doing things she loves, and discovering herself outside of therapy

she comes back home at a time when it's incredibly difficult for Kent to do even basic things like have a conversation. so all through the season, he doesn't visit her and he can't even summon up the guilt.

and her therapist tells her it's okay, that he needs time too. and she loves him and she gives him the time she needs, but she also decides that she's stable enough to foster a child

which goes well! Lydia is 7 and slightly untrusting but Diana has patience and love and she's been reading and she's financially stable and she has time (ask things she didn't have with Kent). she has time to ask Lydia how her day went. time to play and talk and do bonding activities with just the two of them

and soon enough she and Lydia love each other so much! and they have rough times but they get through it.

the season ends. and the aces lose. and Kent is probably even worse than before. and someone suggests that since the aces will no longer be in town to make sure that Kent buys groceries/stays a person, hey you should go visit your mom!

so Kent, depressed and hating himself, gets to watch his mom get her big second chance

and he tries do hard not to be bitter but it's killing him. he keeps wondering what his life would be like if he were Lydia. if he had a financially stable supportive mom. and he can't blame his mom so he blames himself

he blames himself for needing more than she could give him. because she did her best and she raised a pro NHL player and he doesn't have any right to expect more

and one night it gets so bad that drives himself to Jeff's place

this would be okay but Jeff actually lives in Canada

he's just. in this place where Jeff is the only person that Kent knows won't hurt him

and he's so, so tired

and Jeff, chilling with his family, suddenly has an armful of distraught sleep-deprived Captain

and he's just like ......sorry I gotta take this

Kent knows where Jeff lives bc he's been there at least once before

and Kent just. breaks down. he cries for hours. and Jeff can't do anything except drag Kent up to his room and cuddle him while he cries and pet his hair. Kent cries himself to sleep, but he wakes up with Jeff wrapped around him and there's like, 14 seconds where he just feels safe and good because Jeff's there and hugging him in bed so something somewhere must have gone right

anyway Kent wakes up and gets dressed with Jeff hovering gently over him, knocking into him once in a while to make sure he's okay

(like when cats wind around your feet because they're excited to see you. except they might trip you up. the issue w Jeff is that he is Big)

he finds his phone in some weird corner of his car and plugs it in. and finds out that he has 200+ missed calls from his mom

because his mom doesn't have the numbers of any teammates she can call and she's been so worried and he feels Horrible for Being This Way

so he calls her. and she picks up on the second ring and she's been having panic attacks and flashbacks for 4 days and she doesn't remember parts of her therapy

so she yells at him. and Kent is still way too fragile to handle this but he also has to do this? and he just. panics

mother-son bonding via hyperventilating to each other on a phone line

but Jeff gets so mad on Kent's behalf, and pulls the phone out of Kent's hand and cuts the call.

but then he feels guilty so he sends her a quick text message to let her know that Kent is safe and he'll call when he feels better

and the next few days are just Jeff hugging Kent and Kent wearing Jeff's clothes everywhere because he didn't bring his own

and when they kiss it's just so natural? Kent stops hiding how much he wants Jeff. it's too much work. and Jeff is close to Kent almost all the time. and they're so stupidly in love that Jeff's older brother walks into them making out against the kitchen counter and moon walks back out

they make out for so long that every member of Jeff's family sees them and walks back out.