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ladyelissarose · 1 year

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‘I See You’

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x high school teacher female reader

No use of ‘Y/n’ but is referred as Miss or as teacher

Summary; As a high school teacher, sometimes the grading of terribly written homework or trying to teach rowdy teenage students was more than hard. You’d always arrive looking very put together and tidy up, but after the bell rang, you look like a hurricane swept you away. So to drain out your especially long week, and to feel a little boost of self confidence, you take it upon yourself to drink all negativity away at the Hard Deck, hoping it’ll do the job for you. And in your attempt to feel good about yourself and to impress a certain aviator that caught your eye, you make an unnecessary choice, that leaves you almost in shambles. Until this aviator comes around to pick you up, and tell you you’re enough.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, lots of drinking and flirting, slight humiliation (not from Jake!) some angst, but mostly fluff and two idiots who fall in love!! Kind of a slow burn... LONG ASS ONE-SHOT

“Alright class- Benjamin sit down please- oh god! Jamie your pencil isn’t a cigarette stop trying to lit that up- where did you even- ugh... just give me the lighter please.”

You walk towards the back of your classroom of high school 10th graders and take away a small lighter that Jamie happened to bring in. You then eyed for Benjamin to take his seat along with a quick snap to your fingers at Corrie and Hailey who kept whisper gossiping about who knows what. Finally when your class seemed to get it together and finally listen, you felt ready to explain the day’s plans as simply as possible, so they all wouldn’t have an excuse for missing anything. Once you stood at your desk, which was small and white, had a pile of turned in homework that Friday morning along with your laptop and a few nick-knacks, you leaned against it as you began,

“Alright class... today we’ll be doing something different. You’ve all worked hard on your past assignments and essays, so I thought I’d give you all a treat-“

Damion then raised his hand while bouncing his leg up and down rapidly,

You stopped your announcement and kindly glanced at the black haired, hazel eyed boy as you asked nicely,

“Yes Damion?”

He put his hand down to now scratch his shaggy hair as he put forth a question,

“Is food going to be involved-“

You immediately raised your hand to stop him,

“Nope! Not when you guys are prone to start large food fights in my classroom. Last pizza party was disastrous and I will not allow another chance for it again.”

You remember clearly that food-war-zone day, you had left your classroom for about 5 minutes just to pick up the ice cream you had bought them from the lunch room, when you came back let’s just say a grenade of pizza sauce had exploded in the room. You understood that kids were messy and crazy, but not to this level. It’s took hours to clean it all up yourself, you didn’t dare want to punish them and make them stay and clean it, because you didn’t want problems with their parents (who weren’t always the nicest.) You then promised yourself that you’d never again bring food back into your classroom, no matter how many times they begged for it.

You then added to your speech,

“Now for the rest of you, please wait till I finish then you ask questions.”

In sync your little gremlins all replied while looking at little sad at the mention of not having a pizza party,

“Yes Missss.”

Smiling proudly to yourself you then continued,

“So to cut to the chase sense you all seem a little anxious today, I have invited special guests to join us. A couple of Naval Aviators from here in Fighter Town are coming over to share with us their experience as Aviators. It took a lot of time for me to convince them that it’ll help us understand their work and it’s purpose. The learning of responsibility and obedience. So, If any of you have questions, you may ask them, but PLEASE... please be polite. They have hard jobs and have more than enough to tolerate already with their superiors and co-workers... and they don’t need more of that especially from students like you. So again I ask, be polite, reflect who we are as a classroom of World History, and learn something.”

You gave them all a reassuring smile before adding lastly,

“Any questions- oh yes Thomas?”

Thomas flipped his black gel pen in hand as he commented,

“Do we look like kindergarteners to you? I mean respectfully, cause I thought only elementary did like... that kind of stuff.”

A frown found your face but you shook it off as quickly as possible, not wanting to appear hurt or offended by your class. You really felt that this would be a great experience for them. It was different and really cool all at once, your uncle was a Naval Aviator, and the dream to always be like him fascinated you, but because of your really short height, you obviously didn’t pass. And soon that passion grew into the dream of becoming a professor. But that never changed the way you felt and appreciated about the Navy all in one. With your hands fiddling behind your back nervously you replied,

“I know you all are very intelligent and are in a higher level of education, but... I feel that today’s experience will let you all feel relaxed... believe me when I say you won’t regret it.. now they‘ll be here in a few-“

Knock Knock Knock!!

A soft gasp left your lips as you signaled the class,

“That must be them, stay seated please, and be nice. Let me talk to them for a minute.”

You naturally fixed your hair and made sure your dress was respectfully fixed well before opening the door to the most handsome man you have ever seen in your entire life.

‘Oh my god he’s charming! - ok get it together... you’re a teacher for crying out loud.’

With the best smile you could offer when feeling now super nervous and sorta shy, you beamed with your hand stretched out,

“Good afternoon sir.”

The tall, blond aviator who wore a green flight suit that was decorated with different patches and wore his flight vest over, sported the grandest grin while flashing his perfect white teeth. He grasped your hand gently but firmly as he let his green jaded orbs rest on yours, his voice was sweet but steady, kind of had a southern accent to it as he introduced himself,

“Good afternoon, Miss. I’m Lieutenant Jake Seresin... and these two behind me are my wing buddies.”

Jake let your hand go and you held it against your chest, missing his warmth and feeling, and ignoring the way you felt a spark hit from the second you touched him. You watched him attentively as he pointed to two other aviators that had arrived, another tall aviator that had the cutest mustache that suited him perfectly, he had calm hazel eyes and a warm smile, he wore beige Khakis that had a few medals of different awards on his chest along with a shining, gold pin of wings on top of them. And next to him stood a female, who had the most beautiful smile and homey brown eyes, she stood tall but relaxed in her very well pressed, dress blues, and in her hand she held her Dixie cap,

‘How elegant.’

You thought, as you approached the two other aviators with a welcoming hand shake to each,

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The mustache aviator shook your hand next as he introduced,

“You too Miss, I’m Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw.”

He made you feel at ease and comfortable, with his kind and soft tone. Then you turned to the beautiful brunette as you did the same,

“Such a pleasure ma’am.”

“Likewise Miss, I’m Lieutenant Natasha Trace. I love your dress by the way.”

She ended her sentence with a wink that made you feel appreciated and flustered. You looked down at your simple Navy blue dress that rested at your knees. You tried not to stutter as you replied,

“T-Thank you, Lieutenant.”

She sent you a firm but kind nod, then you turned back to the door of your classroom as you began,

“Alright Lieutenants, so I was just hoping you can maybe explain your field of work, and hopefully answer some questions they might ask?”

Bradley nodded approvingly before asking,

“How long do we have?”

You glanced at your watched before replying,

“As long as your willing to be here, class ends at 3:30, it’s barley 2. So from here till then all the time is yours if you want to stay till it ends or go early, either is fine.”

Jake smiled proudly as he checked with Bradley,

“We could do till 3:30 right?”

Natasha replied for Bradley,

“Oh yeah, Mav said we could have the day.”

Bradley’s eyes lit while turning to look at you,

“We’ll be staying till the bell rings.”

You almost jump with joy but stay planted on the ground with a bright smile instead,

“Great! Come on in please.”

You then lead them inside of your classroom, confident to know that your classroom will be still sitting in their chairs, looking quiet and obedient, but instead you find a WWE match going on. Jensen and George are standing on their desk and trying to aim for a first punch while steadying their feet on their wobbly desks. Some of your student are cheering them on while a couple others are filming it, most of the girls seem to be huddled up in a corner chatting loudly and lastly, your computer sits open at your desk with a couple of your boys on it. You knew that your students were the craziest in the entire school, sense 9th grade all the teachers knew it, and warned you that for some reason they all were just rowdy and not always the best listeners. You’ve heard that they’ve been through many teachers and substitutes, all who could never stand them, and left because they couldn’t tolerate them, so it was a shock to them when you took the classroom under your wing, and faithfully been there for the past 4 months, while others only last a school week or less. You could feel the hurt and disappointment clutching your heart almost immediately at the sight, but before you could say anything, a sharp whistle came from behind you along with a set of simple words,

“Can I have your attention please?”

You faced the source of the voice, Natasha was the one who spoke up after Bradley whistled. Your class filled with quick ramblings and all of them ushered themselves to their respectful seats, (Jensen fell off his desk and you were quick to run and help him up after you saw that everyone ignored him, but Jake grasped your upper arm and held you in place, without saying a word.) You didn’t dare move after his touch left you, and you all waited till the classroom was quiet and orderly. After a few seconds you spoke up to the Lieutenants, you eyes locked on Natasha’s because she was the female here, and Jake made you too shy as nervous, while with Bradley well, nothing was wrong with him, he’s perfect, but sense Natasha was the female there, she made you feel more open and forward as you apologized,

“I’m sincerely sorry for this welcoming, we talked about this.”

Jake shook his head no at you, looking reassuring as he directly told the classroom,

“It’s not your Teachers fault, that you children don’t listen. She’s a fine woman, we can see it, so please, learn from her... can we do that?”

The classroom nodded their heads attentively, all while gawking at them three like if they were celebrities. You saw their reaction and felt a little joy come over the upset feeling you had, and even more when Chad asked,

“How many more different uniforms do you guys have? Their pretty cool.”

Jake beamed proudly as the question was asked to him, and he replied simply but with a joking tone,

“The Navy has a whole wardrobe for its sailors, that’s why we’re known to be the fanciest and most stylish.”

The few chuckles and giggles could be heard all around, and you felt yourself relax a bit as you continued to hear most of your class ask polite and very interesting questions, all that were answered as best as possible by all three aviators. It was like if there rebellious switch had turned off as they now became very attentive and sweet. It relived you’re and made you take a good breather for a moment. Your attention was mainly focused on Jake, who’s smile made your tummy turn with butterflies and his voice made you love it more and more.

Your thoughts flew around in your head like free eagles,

‘I wonder if he smiles like that all the time? Or who he shares that smile with... he probably has someone home... taken he is perhaps-‘

“What the hell is going on in here?”

You held in a gasp as you faced your boss, the principal of the school. He stood at the door with a look of disappointment,clearly not pleased with who you had brought in, but you were quick to stand tall and defend these aviators. You walked to stand in front of them, as if protecting them as you began to explain,

“Mr. Cosmo, I invited a few Naval Aviators from the Aviation base to come and share a few things with our class today, they seem to like it, and these aviators have been the absolute best with us.”

You stand there confidently with your response, believing it was the best yet. But Mr.Cosmo didn’t think so, as he sighed with irritation. He then eyed the aviators that stood behind you with utter disgust before ordering in a low, stern tone, that made your blood go to your feet.

“Get them out of my class room... now.”

Your face dropped with confusion and you stuttered,

“W-Wait sir, please- I think-“

Mr.Cosmo held up his hand to shush you up, as he warned,

“Miss... I’m not going to ask again.”

You closed your mouth and didn’t say another word to him, you instead turned to face Jake and his buddies as your apologized,

“I’m so sorry Lieutenants, you may go now. Thank you for your time and what you do for us.”

Bradley and Natasha replied in sync, while waving bye to the classroom and taking turns shaking your hand.

“Anytime, thank you.”

Jake then came last as he smiled down at you with sympathy and grace, before clutching your hand with a paper to put in it, he shook it firmly as he bid,

“Thank you and your class for making my day better Miss, the pleasure was all ours.”

If you could you would’ve ‘awed’ our loud with puppy eyes and heart floating around you, but in the reality of the moment you could only muster out,

“I appreciate you Jake- I mean Lieutenant. Thank you.”

Jake let a little chuckle slip before walking away from your presence, he then stopped in front of Mr.Cosmo, and took a deep breath while staring down at the short bald headed man, before saying,

“She did nothing wrong. So don’t get mad at her... I’m sure you’ve allowed worse to happen here with other classrooms.”

Jake then turned and winked at you, before disappearing. Your heart kinda sank when you couldn’t see or feel his presence around you anymore, but your thoughts on that feeling were long gone when you heard your boss declare,

“I have a substitute that will cover for the rest of the afternoon... you and I will talk in my office.”

2 hours later...

You still hadn’t let go of the paper Jake had given you, and you hadn’t looked at it either. You sat in your car with tears as you’re replayed your bosses cruel words,

‘What are you trying to do to my students? Recruit them to be tiny soldiers? They’re kids, when they are grown ups then they could make that decision!! Bring them a clown or something that’s for their age!! Just because you grew up with a hard life doesn’t mean that you have to let them go through it too!! Let them be kids, let them make a mess and be loud, it’s what they do! And if I hear a complaint from there parents about todays stunt you pulled, I’ll fire you. I don’t have the time or energy to fight for a stubborn woman like you, I’ll just let you go. Now, it’ll be the last time you bring these kind of shenanigans of a people to my school... and you’re suspended for a week. Now get.’

What felt like a napkin in your hands, you used to wipe your tears, and took a deep breath, then tossed the paper onto the back seat. You buckled your seat belt and started the car, turned around to look back while driving out, but that paper on the seat had something scribbled on it that caught your eye. You stepped on the brakes with quite a bit of force, and put the car in park, reached to the back to grab the paper and read the most beautiful, cursive written message,

‘From Jake, to Miss.

Meet me at Hard Deck, beautiful. I’ll buy you a drink ;)’

Your face made a pout with awe, as you reread it like six times, heart pumping harder with joy as you eyed the word, ‘beautiful’. No guy in your life has ever called you beautiful. It was either ‘sexy’ or anything that wasn’t appropriate because of your body type. But it was nice to been seen differently, or more specifically, beautiful. You then backed out and began to drive home, wanting to get a good shower first before you went to the one and only Hard Deck. You knew Hard Deck well, it was actually your favorite bar, because the people were usually very nice, Penny Benjamin, the owner herself, was the best ever and just super sweet over all (She could be a cute sass sometimes but you adored it, it was a great energy to be around, especially when she talked about her boyfriend ‘Pete’ or ‘Maverick’) You were in and out of your house in 20 mins. You now wore a cute, green dress that had a belt on the waist and was flowy on the bottom, which rested barely above your knees. Your white sandals decorated with a flower on top kept your feet and the concrete floor separated. You free styled your hair and just let it rest freely, no pins or rubber bands. Your grandmother’s gold necklace that had a gold heart locket rested on your chest and gleamed in the sun, along with your matching gold earrings, and simple, thin bracelet. Now you’re happily on your way to Hard Deck, with ‘I Ain’t Worried’ blasting loudly and pleasing your ears as you let the wind come through your lowered windows and blow against you freshly. When you see the familiar bar come into view, and smile of relief and happiness raises to your face, and before you knew it, you were already running up the steps and bursted through the wooden tall doors. You breathed in the regular scent of fresh beer and roasted peanuts, and breathed out slowly as you took in the view while stepping inside. Everything was just as great as usual, the music played oldies softly on the jukebox, the jet-decorated pools tables were occupied by competitive players, and a few sailors occupied the seats at the main bar while the rest of the customers sat happily anywhere else. You approached the bar when you saw Penny in view, the only person you really knew and got along with, and she saw you too in that moment and cheered you closer,

“Heyy girl! How have you been cutie?”

You smiled shyly as you took the seat in front of her, and rested your arms on top comfortably as you did your best to respond happily, to not show that you were still upset about today’s episode at school.

“I’ve been great! Just you know... happy that today’s Friday.”

Penny eyed your curiously as she thought for a moment then replied,

“You got into problems at the school?”

You gasped lowly before you scoffed,

“How’d you know?”

Penny gave you a wink as she set down a cold root beer in front of you,

“You have the exact same face Maverick does when he gets in trouble...”

She then waved off her assistant to take care of the orders for now as she then focused her complete attention on you as she added,

“Tell me what happened, I’m listening.”

That was all it took for you to start spilling the tea for Penny, glad to see her understand your point of view and be on your side. She was comforting to you and supported your feelings towards the whole situation. Soon when you had finished, you realized you had been there for about 30 mins, and she saw you turn to look at the entrance twice, and couldn’t help but suspect something. Her eyebrows wiggles playfully as she asked,

“So.. who are you expecting tonight?”

You look back at Penny at let out a little laugh, trying to not sound disappointed that you might of been stood up by Jake as your reply,

“Oh no one... just looking around-“

Penny narrowed her gleaming eyes at you as she interrupted,

“Cutie... don’t lie to me... I was in the same position you are in at some point in my life... who is it? Are you being stood up?”

You hung your head low as you placed the little paper on the bar,

“His name is Jake- well, Lieutenant Jake Seresin.. and well he left this in my hand after he left the classroom... is this asking for a date?”

Penny’s looked behind you at the sound of the bell ringing on the opening door, and her mouth opened wide as she put forth,

“Ooooh he just arrived! Look.”

You whipped your head so fast your surprised it didn’t snap or something of that sort, and there you saw the gorgeously handsome aviator walk in with his buddies you saw earlier that day, along with a few new faces, all who looked just as happy and friendly as him. It was like if you both were looking for each other, for instantly your eyes locked on one another. You watched Jake as he dismissed himself from his pals, then began to walk towards you with a confident walk. You turned to Penny quickly as you slightly panicked,

“Penny help me I don’t know what to do-“

She then traded your root beer for a golden whiskey, and gave you a tip of advice,

“Just be yourself, happy and charming, smart... drink this and sit back... you got this. Now drink it.”

And in seconds she turned around and began to take orders from new customers that had arrived from base, spotting their uniforms or beige khakis. You chugged the shot of whiskey then tried to call her back for help and more advice, until you heard that endearing voice catch your attention and immediately melt your frantic heart,

“Good afternoon darling.”

Your eyes followed his voice and soon you were facing Jake, taking in his appearance. He wore a simple orange t-shirt that shaped his muscular chest and brought out how big and thick his biceps were. His long meaty thighs were covered with dark blue jeans, and he appeared taller in his cowboy boots. His hair looked a little disheveled but he still seemed to rock it very effortlessly. It took every nerve in your body to not drool at this heavenly sight or even kiss his feet, and you also did your very best to not let your eyes travel and capture every part of his body and take mental pictures to keep forever. Jake didn’t catch your staring for he was more worried about being late, then he went on to explain to you why he got there late, his smile looking apologetic,

“I’m sorry I came late, my boss called us back to base for a quick check up, and I-I tried to tell him I had plans but-“

Although he looked adorable stuttering and trying to make up for his late arrival, you couldn’t let him go on thinking that he was wrong for something he couldn’t control. With a steady but sweet tone you assured him,

“No no, it’s ok. I promise... work is work. Just be glad that I’m still here and didn’t take you for a stood upper or something and just left.”

Jake threw his head back lightly as he chuckled,

“Oh no, I’m not one of those. Unless work calls me in. But thank you for staying, can I get your something? What do you like?”

His smile and bright jaded eyes were giving their full attention to you, as he awaited your answer, to which you replied with a cheeky smile,

“Surprise me.. cowboy.”

Jake raised his brows with a cute giggle,

“Ohh ok, I see where this is going. But don’t worry sugar, I got you covered.”

He sent you a wink that made a chill go up your spine as your face burned because you were flustered. You listened to him as he called out to Penny with a loud enough voice to be heard, but it still sounded super sexy and adorable,

“Penny! Penny my favorite barmaid!!”

You could see the playful smirk Penny wore as she walked towards Jake with a sarcastic tone,

“Hangman... is it a whiskey for you and for your date?”

Jake huffed a shy laugh, not realizing that Penny caught him once again with another girl, trying to find the ‘one’ as he usually said. But most of the girls he always brought only expected him to buy their drinks and take them to bed, which is something he wasn’t looking for anymore. Jake was already done with that kind of life, he was already hitting his 30s and was sick of one night stands that left him sad and alone in the mornings. Now he craved and desired someone to call ‘his own’, that wasn’t in his line of work, and could be with him for the long run... if not forever he hoped so, if they were the right person. He then turned to look at you carefully, to see if you approved of being called his date, and of course you were, as you beamed at him with your best smile. Penny soon placed two glasses of whiskey in front of you and Jake, sending you a wink as she mouthed to you,

‘It’s ok, relax.’

You sent her a subtle nod and raised your glass towards Jake as he said,

“Cheers.”

“Cheers!”

You clinked your guys’ glasses and took a sip in sync. And began to chat about ones another lives, feeling free and comfortable with one another as you opened up more and more. Funny stories were told, a couple of cheesy jokes from Jake that he swore he got from his best friend ‘Rooster’. He told you the true reason behind his callsign ‘Hangman’, to which you laughed loudly at and had to take a break from that to gain composure and some air after laughing your lungs out. Jake was having a blast as he saw how bright red your cheeks turned and the thin layer of sweat that appeared on your face from the laughing episode he put you through. (He added fake parts to the story and acted the very exaggerated parts with his hands and hilarious facial expressions. He did it mainly to see you smile, but he got a bonus when he got your natural and contagious laugh too.)

Soon when that moment died down, you told him your story and some facts about yourself, you too added a few ridiculously funny moments in your life that had him wheezing for a few seconds. (The light shade of pink on his cheeks from laughing hard looked definitely good on him) you too shared your passion and appreciation for Naval Aviation, sense your uncle was a part of it. He then connected the dots and asked if that was why you had invited them to the school,

“So that’s why you did that? No wonder! Because no one has ever pulled that before. But that’s so cool of you to do, looks liked they needed that and liked it overall.”

You nodded approvingly,

“Yup, they did...”

Then you looked down at your lap as you added,

“... but not their principal.”

Jake saw your change in expression, and placed his warm hand on your shoulder, and with a concerned tone he asked,

“He wasn’t mean to you was he? Because you did nothing wrong.”

His hand felt comforting on your shoulder, and gave you the boost you needed to answer honestly,

“He was a little mean.. he suspended me actually... saying that I was forcing something onto the kids that wasn’t appropriate for their age.”

Jake’s eyes scanned your sad face as he scoffed, not believing what he just heard,

“Are you kidding me? That’s not inappropriate at all, it’s like.. gold. Someone appreciating the military of any branch is so amazing!”

You looked up to Jake as you asked shyly,

“You think so? I mean what if he’s right-“

“RIGHT? Darling... darling... no. He’s wrong for stopping you from teaching kids the importance of The Military- or Aviation and how we serve that way. My younger self would’ve killed to have you as a teacher. He would’ve loved you that’s for sure.”

Your cheeks grew warm as you took in Jake’s words, they seemed so honest and sincere. You put your hand on his lower arm and patted it twice as you said,

“Thanks, makes me feel better about what I did.”

Jake followed your hand that left his arm and pouted for a second, wishing it stayed there longer, but he replied to you,

“You should feel good about what you did, if not proud.”

Just then a loud voice called to Jake from the back of the bar. You and Jake looked for the voice, and there you saw Bradley waving him off as he called again,

“JAKE! COME SEE THIS!! It’ll be quick!”

Jake was about to tell him ‘no’, you could see it in the way he had started shaking his head, but your put your hand on his shoulder, stopping him,

“It’s ok, you can go with them for a moment. They’re calling you, I’ll stay here and get another drink for now. Go on, sweets.”

If it wasn’t because this was the first date and he just met you, Jake would’ve kissed you so hard till you stopped breathing. No other girl in his life in the history of his dating had ever let him go with is friends for a split second. (Cause Jake’s wing buddies always wanted his attention when they felt something cool was going on and they didn’t want him to miss it.) Jake jumped off his seat and held the energy of a child as he informed you,

“Just give me a minute... I’ll be right back darling. Stay here. Penny, give her another drink. On me, please.”

There was no room for protesting when a new drink was placed in front of you, and you weren’t going to decline it when he was happily buying you drinks, so happily you too it and drank the whole thing. Feeling the beer go down to your throat into your stomach was refreshing for a minute, you no longer felt shy and uncomfortable, instead you felt strong and the boss of the hour. After downing a few more, you felt a little more loose and slightly buzzy, but still in control of yourself, or so you thought. But then someone took a seat next to you, and pulled your arm towards them as they gossiped only your ear,

“Omg your date is going hard on another girl.”

You looked at the blonde girl who was the one next to you and were completely confused as she added,

“He hasn’t let her go sense she’s approached him.”

She then gripped your jaw and turned your face to see them, in the back. And there you saw Jake’s back facing you as you saw a certain pair of hands rest on his back, as if she was hugging him. You felt a dart of hurt hit your chest as you saw them, you could only think,

‘He just left me here for her! Why would he-‘

“Do you want to get him back?”

The blondes voice brought you back to reality, and you asked for her to repeat and clarify,

“What? What do you mean?”

The blonde flipped her hair back and showed off her cute sleeveless blouse, and appealing chest. You in that moment admitted to yourself that she was so much better than you in everything, she looked perfect. You gulped down for a second as she repeated,

“If you want to get him back... you have to beat her in a beer chug, fair and square, let’s settle this like grown women if you want him.”

You looked back to look for Jake and saw him being dragged by the other girl, and sank into your seat when you saw how much more prettier she was than you.

‘Damn she’s gorgeous... beats me for sure....’

Jake’s face held a smile at you, but it didn’t look so genuine as earlier, as his arm was being held tightly by the brunette. But he was quick to muster out,

“They say you want to participate in a challenge? To win something?”

Your eyes found the blonde as you were going to say,

‘No, I don’t recall doing that.’

But the blonde answered for you as she said with a squeaky voice,

“Yes!! Her and my bestie Brenda are going to have a beer chug contest!! And who ever wins-“

She then made her head tilt towards Jake, as she ended with,

“Leaves with the prize... Let’s see who wants it more.”

Jake looked at you confused, but agreed to it when you confirmed that you’d go for it, though you weren’t totally convinced.

“Yeah... that’s.. the plan. She wanted me try it out.”

You caught the attention of the surrounding customers, and soon they began to cheer out loud, supporting the upcoming challenge. You honestly in that moment thought that Jake was behind all this, sense the brunette and blond seemed to have settled the plan already beforehand, and how the blond told you and the brunette told him. And from how she touched Jake and held his attention, it seemed like he had known her for a while and knew about this new challenge. Soon the rules were settled down, to which you didn’t hear half of, as you were too nervous about losing the challenge and losing Jake, as well as a little upset thinking that he had set you up for a challenge, thinking you were a game, and lastly you were upset that you agreed to it all because you were confused and didn’t want to say no. You stood at the pool table in the back, with 10 glasses of beer in front of you. And on the other side of the pool table, stood the brunette, with the same amount of glasses as well. In the center of the table laid a white napkin, which was to be grabbed and held up when you finished first, or at least you thought that was the reason why it was there. Penny stood at the edge of the table, and was the one to count down for it to begin. As you prepared yourself you felt a hand fall on your back, as a soft voice followed,

“You sure you’re going to do this? You don’t have to, you haven’t started.”

That was Jake who was speaking to you, but you were determined to show him and the girls, that you could take it (I mean after all you thought they were setting you up for defeat, so you wanted to prove that you could win) You sent him a firm nod,

“Yup, I got this.”

Joke didn’t look to happy by your response, which confused you for a minute, you thought he’d be smug and proud about it. But you stopped thinking about it all when you hear Penny shout,

“Ready ladies?!”

“Ready!!”

“Definitely.”

After saying ‘definitely’, you took a deep breath and waited for the bell to ring, which came quickly,

DING DING DING!!!!

“GO!!”

The cheers of the bar grew so loud when the challenge began, some screaming the brunette’s name and others screaming the word ‘CHUG’. You were downing your 4th cup when you heard a familiar Texan accent shout from behind you,

“Come on!! You got this Teacher girl!! Go go go!! Dagger Squad, cheer her on with me!!”

Soon you heard more people cheer you on, calling you ‘Miss’ or ‘Teacher’, which to you thought was kinda cute to be honest. You were on your 7th cup, thinking you were going to be able to take down the rest, until a stabbing pain hit your stomach, making you put your cup down and groan. Jake was quick to grab your waist as he asked worriedly,

“Hey hey! are you ok? Talk to me.”

But the blonde pulled him away as she warned him,

“You can’t help her or talk to her until she’s finished, just let her be. Move back.”

Jake grew a little upset as some people agreed with her, and made him move back from you. You missed his touch and voice, but nonetheless decided to keep on, taking on the last cups like a champ. Everyone around began to shout in sync as you almost finished up,

“CHUG CHUG CHUG!!”

You really didn’t want to be kicked out, but your tummy couldn’t take anymore, you had 3 glasses of beer left out of the 10. You felt your tummy clench again in pain, but this time it was worse, like if someone was pulling your intestines out, but thankfully you were miraculously on the last cup. You slammed the empty glass of beer onto the bar, making it bounce and fall over. Then you reached for the napkin, and you lifted it up up, thinking you were doing the right thing. But that’s when you heard a few disappointed ‘ohs’ and a silence fill the room, which made you drop the napkin and look around, seeing the people’s faces look sad and sympathetic for you. You scrunched up your face with pain that started to grow in your stomach more as you asked curiously,

“What’s wrong?”

The blonde came to stand in front of you as she boasted,

“You silly bitch, I didn’t say who finished first won, I said you lost if you raised your napkin first... but sense you were such in a hurry to win someone that isn’t fit for you, you didn’t listen. And now you lost.”

You felt a twist of pain stab your gut, along with a wave of embarrassment and shame hit you. You felt the tears beginning to grow in your eyes as you realized that you had been played, played horribly. Slamming your debit card onto the pool table you put forth,

“Let’s carry on with the deal. I lost, I’ll pay for everyone’s drinks.”

The blonde pushed your card back to you as she shook her head ‘no’, having a blast as she watched your face showing pain and confusion,

“Nuh uuuhhh.... the loser gets thrown out, by the winner. Girls! I need assistance!!”

You held your hands up as you protested,

“Wait- I didn’t know! Hold on!-“

All the seagulls that rested peacefully on the beach ground in front of Hard Deck all flew away when the heard a loud ‘Thud’ and groan of pain leave someone’s lips, yours, as you hit the ground painfully. You rolled onto your back slowly as you tried not to move too much, you had landed on your tummy, and face planted into the sand. You thought you’d could lay there for a few seconds, to collect yourself to cry later, but your stomach had different plans, when it chose to reject all the liquor you had drunk. You felt it coming and came up to a quick stand and made it to the closest trash bin before heaving everything out. You hugged the top of the bin as you gave everything away, soon your body was trembling with pain and from the amount of force it was taking you to get rid of everything. After what felt like eternity, it all stopped, and now you stayed there letting the salvia from your lips fall into the bin and your tears from your eyes follow, as your began to sob. You should’ve known that that blonde was up to something, and that she was lying, but you were blinded by the fear of losing Jake to a girl you thought was far better than you, so you didn’t see it. From the distance you heard shouting, but chose to ignore it for now,

‘It’s probably someone else’

You thought that as you continued to hear that person shout, but soon the words became understandable, and your ears perked up at it,

“HEY MISS! Sweetheart where are you?!”

That was Jake, once again, his voice so smooth but still showing worry, as it came closer and closer to you, but now gave words that were to comfort you,

“Oh Sweet stars... it’s ok.. I’m right here. I -I brought your stuff too. You’re ok..”

You nodded at his information and soon felt your hair being pulled up and held in his hands, clearing it from your face so it wouldn’t get dirty. You were about to call Jake out for the beer challenge but then the wave of shame hit you again, and you started throwing up again. He rubbed your back and stood tall, blocking you from others seeing you. When you finished you wanted to try against and call him out for the beer challenge, but his next words stopped you as he confessed,

“Sweetheart.. God, they played you... you shouldn’t have listened to them. Even if you thought that they looked cooler or would mock you. Why did you say, yes? Now your tummy’s hurting.”

His free palm rested on your stomach rubbing it slowly as to comfort you, and feeling his touch made you cry,

“I thought it was your plan.... and I wanted to do it for you... like to.. damn it.. I don’t know.”

You then stood up and wiped you mouth with your hands, not willing to face him as you started to cry silently. You faced the trash can, but was pulled away from it by the hand until you stood far away from it, near the shore. Jake put your bag on the sand by your feet before grabbing your hands to say,

“It’s wasn’t my plan at all.. I thought it was yours.. but then I heard them laughing and saying that they had won me or some garbage like that... saying that you had fallen into their trap. That’s when I knew it was all a set up. I told Penny about their dirty bet, and she is making them pay for mistreating you... and I came to look for you.”

You looked up and Jake and asked,

“But why? Why would you come for me... I’m not the kind of girl you want to be around.. I’m not like.. them you know?”

Jake let go of one hand and held you chin as he asked in a whisper,

“Why would you put yourself in such a vulnerable position then... for me?”

Hearing Jake whisper his concern to you only made your knees grow weaker to stand on, and more tears fall out,

“I.. I guess I was trying to impress you. I want to be that kind of girl you want.. and I thought I’d do that if I won the challenge.”

You kept her head hung low, ashamed and afraid that Jake might confirm what you feared most, the fact that no one could ever be impressed by you. You were a lonely woman, who depended on crazy teenagers to make you happy and keep you company during the day. You had a hard and long job, trying to steer these young people to success all while trying to raise yourself as well. At night the silence and darkness took over and the only place to hide from it was under your fluffy comforters. So, with all this, you could never be the dream girl all guys or even girls wanted, so were ready to give it up, walk away, and never see Hard Deck or Jake again, it’ll all be too humiliating once again. You then bent down to pick up your bag from the sandy ground, brushing off the few pecks of sand that stubbornly stayed on. With your sad eyes locked to the ground you began to shift your feet away from Jake and let his hands go as you said in a soft voice, trying to hide your embarrassment,

“I’m so sorry.. It’s was nice meeting you Jake, goodbye-“

A warm large hand grabbed your wrist gently as his sweet voice followed,

“Woah woah where do you think your going? No... stay, it’s ok.”

You looked up at Jake confused, while he tugged you closer to him to stand in front of his broad form. Before you could question his motive or moves, he explained clearly and expressively with glistening, caring eyes,

“You don’t need to impress me, I’m not- a King or something. I don’t expect you to be like everyone else either, it’s ok to be different. You’re more than ok, your amazing actually. You don’t have to be like them to be great. I mean, I could never handle so many young- crazy kids at once... I can barely handle myself... but you? Damn... I’d kill to have a day in your life... so I could feel what being patient and tolerant and so sweet is like.”

The clean, beach air got caught in your throat as you took in Jake’s sincere words, not being able to fully believe that he was being honest, until he added,

“Believe me... I’ve never seen such a woman like you, and that’s... you’re so much better than anything. Forget everything that happen today, that doesn’t count.”

You could tell Jake was getting more flustered by his own words, as he worded out what he felt about you he grew more shy about himself. His proud, smirk was long gone and the playful cockiness in his tone had too vanished, now it was replaced with softness, and a true calamity and comfort. You tried not to cry, out of finally feeling and being seen or out of relief that he didn’t let you go like everyone else always did, but you successfully failed when his calloused thumb found your cheek to wipe away your fallen tears. He then caressed your cheek and let his loving gaze search your face, patiently waiting for you to say anything back. You looked down quickly to gather your words, but he tilted your chin up to face him as he put forth,

“Look at me when you say it, don’t hide.”

You opened your mouth then closed it, the words were all there but just couldn’t come out, it was like if your speaking ability had just failed you. So you did what you thought best to express your gratitude and feelings, you then threw yourself into his arms and wrapped your arms around his waist, tugging your head impossibly close to his chest, so close you could hear the change in his heartbeat, from slow and steady, to a now faster pace.

A low ‘oh’ was heard above you, but you didn’t dare let go, you just held on. And very soon you felt his arms come around you too and hug you tightly, along with a kiss on your head with a bonus,

“I got you... I got you sweetheart.”

Once hidden in the safety and comfort of his arms, you grew the confidence to confess with a little sniffle,

“Thank you Jake... f-for seeing me.”

Jake awed with sincerity and pulled you away by the shoulders, then cradled your face as he looked down to see your full face, which was now adorning tear streaks and bright pink cheeks. A cute, soft smile lifted on his face, as he cooed,

“I’ve seen you sense the beginning... and God I can’t peel my eyes off of you... I really like you.”

Your eyebrows shot up with surprise and your mouth fell open, but you nonetheless, even in your shock state of this gorgeous man’s confession, you were able to reply back clearly with honesty,

“I really like you too.”

You were able to see Jake drop his shoulders as if he was relieved, and his smile grew even larger, which made you even more happy and comfortable with him. But then you saw a sudden change in the way he held your face, and how his face began to hold a look of serious concentration, you raised your hands and held onto his wrists, as you worded nervously,

“Jake-“

“May I kiss you?”

His interruption wasn’t missed, and neither was your excited answer,

“Yes! Wait but I threw up-“

Jake chuckled and shrugged,

“I don’t care.”

“Oh- oomph!!”

When Jake’s lips connected to yours, it was like if all the buried mines that held onto fear of not being loved or of being rejected, which rested on the field of your life, buried in your heart, had exploded and disappeared. All were replaced with a flower of love that Jake began to plant in your new garden. Butterflies exploded in her chest and set free everything you had always wanted to feel. Your palms rested on his chest as he tugged you closer and dipped your head to the side, wanting to gain more of your kiss and deepen it, deepen it like he was deepening his new love and desire for you. You wouldn’t care if the world ended all around you, or if the stars fell all around you, you knew you’d stay in this place and moment with Jake, for here, in his arms with his lips on yours, you felt safe and held, even with your guys’ eyes closed, trying to embrace the moment, you felt seen. When you pulled away for air Jake chased your lips, pecking them a couple more times before resting his lips on your forehead, keeping them there as he held you in a hug. You grew comfortable in his embrace, but your tummy was still upset, making painful turns inside which caused you to hide your face in his chest and whimper. Jake cooed you to stay strong for him, as he instructed,

“Hold onto my neck, sweetheart.”

You whimpered an ‘ok’ as you did just that, not expecting him to move quickly and pick you up bridal style, beginning to walk towards the parked vehicles as he said,

“Let me take care of you... do you like Mac and cheese? I make the best.”

You peeked your head out of his chest as you beamed,

“Really! I love Mac and cheese... would you-“

“Of course! I’ll make you that and uh.. um... we’ll take it to your house, or do you want to stay at mine? Is that too weird?”

Kissing Jake’s jaw you answered,

“I can stay at yours... as long as I get my Mac and cheese.. I’ll be just fine.”

With a sigh Jake replied,

“Great! I’ll be happy with that-“

“Oh but wait!!”

You then clutched Jake’s shirt as you cried,

“I need my teddy bear Mr.Snuggles, I can’t sleep without him!! He’s like my sleeping support friend.”

Jake stopped in his tracks and looked down at you, not being able to help himself as he fell harder for your and your different but adorable behavior. He kissed your forehead and promised,

“I’ll be your Mr.Snuggles tonight, don’t you worry darling.”

He began to walk to his truck and listened to you as you asked,

“You like snuggles? Because I’ll hug tight and all.”

He helped you in the truck and buckled you as he assured you with one big kiss on the cheek,

“All I want is you... to be with you and to feel you, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. And I want to protect that as much as possible... and give you as many snuggles as possible. Everything you’ll ever need.. I‘lol take care of. Ok?”

You nodded and cherished his gaze on you, as he lastly said,

“I see you.”

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x you #top gun hangman #top gun x reader #hangman x reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #hangman #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman fluff

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harryforvogue · 1 year

Note

Mia proof reading one of Harry’s emails or contracts trying to find something wrong but she can’t and literally making something up just to drive him crazy

"you know," harry says, looking up from his laptop. he's just left a meeting (a really long one that had mia sighing with impatience every few seconds) and now his attention is on his girlfriend who's bouncing on her heels in front of his desk. "working from home literally includes working."

they're both working from home today since they've been snowed in for the past two days. it's still snowing, in fact, and while harry is accustomed to working in his home office, this is new grounds for mia. she's always had to go to her job.

"how can i work when i'm at home?" she says, sighing again. she walks around towards him and hoists herself onto his desk, kicking her legs. "i'm in sweats. how can i concentrate when i'm in sweats?"

"change out of them," harry says.

"but i'm so cold."

"you'd probably work better too if you didn't try to do your job while still in bed."

mia groans. "but how can i resist it?"

harry shuts his laptop and leans back in his seat. mia's eyes shine. "oooh. are you done with work? do you want to--"

"i'm not done with work. i'm taking a 5 minute break to talk to my girlfriend who is still on the clock and not being a very good employee."

"you know what's also not good? capitalism. but you don't know anything about because you're a nepotism child." mia rolls her eyes. she kicks her legs for a little bit and then says, "can i sit in your lap?"

"here i thought you were going to yell at me some more for being a nepo baby."

"you are!"

"i am not denying it." he pats his thigh. "come on."

happily, she jumps off the desk and sits down on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. "i've missed you."

harry laughs softly when she kisses his face. "you saw me at breakfast, didn't you? and then the four times you wandered into my office just because."

"well i missed you then too."

harry turns his head and kisses her properly. she instantly melts in his arms and kisses him back.

"working from home is hard," she mumbles, breaking away from him to kiss his jaw. "i wanna do this. i don't wanna do work. i wanna kiss."

he places his hands on her hips and tugs her closer. "i know. it's terrible. it's just simply not fair that we cannot go to work in our offices because there's 4 feet of snow outside."

"don't be mean."

"i'm never mean. just honest."

"hate when you say that."

"do you?"

"now you have to make lunch today."

"hey! i made it twice already. it's your turn."

"i can't. i'm too cold. and bored." she lifts her head up. "you know i've done most of my work already. if i do the rest now, it'll be all done by the next hour and then i'll have 5 hours to do nothing! while you'll be at work pretending i don't exist!"

"i'll be working," he reminds her gently. "not ignoring you."

"same thing!"

"i really don't think that's the sa--"

"i have nothing to do!" mia dramatically complains, nuzzling against his warm neck. "i'm gonna stay here now."

harry holds her for a long time just hugging her back, rubbing her shoulders, scratching her scalp. he feels her eyes flutter shut when her eyelashes brush against his neck. he turns his head to kiss her forehead gently.

"you can't fall asleep, baby."

"i can," she mumbles. "and i will."

"you want to help me with my work?"

"i don't understand your job. makes my brain hurt."

"it'll be something you're good at."

slowly, mia lifts her head back up and blinks at him. she rubs her eye and harry holds her face firmly in between his fingers when he kisses her for it. he fucking adores her.

"mm. okay." she slides off his lap and sits back on the desk, waiting for instructions.

"i have this contract that i need you to proofread. my editor has been away on vacation so i have to make sure it's perfect before i send it over to the client."

"okay. i can do that."

harry nods and opens his laptop. he clicks around a bit until he finds the file and then hands over the laptop to her. "it's just 4 pages. take your time. my next meeting isn't for another half hour. get whatever you can done, all right?"

"if i have your laptop, what are you going to use?"

harry gestures to the ipad he's just taken out of his drawer. mia scowls and says, "nepo baby."

he smiles and leans in to kiss her softly. "thank you."

mia works on the contract for a long time. she squints down at it and rereads it several times as harry works on his own things in front of her. she enlarges the text, reads the text from back to front, and frowns deeply at it.

if harry wrote this himself with no editor, then he's actually insane.

because she can't find a single typo, a single spelling error, or a single comma out of place.

the document is perfect.

and it makes her annoyed. a little mad too.

i'll find something, she insists to herself. a mere incorrect semi colon. an extra space after a period. she'll find something!

but the more she drives herself crazy with rereading the conditions written in the contract, the more horrified she is to admit that there are no faults in the document.

harry asks her 15 minutes later, "how does it look?"

mia glances up at him. "fine."

"just fine?"

"mhm." she flexes her fingers. "actually, this third clause in the contract is a run on sentence."

"is it?"

"yeah." she turns the laptop to show him. "see? too many ideas in one sentence. and the roman numerals totally throw you off."

"that's because there are separate conditions in the existing clauses."

"make them all individual sentences."

harry hesitates. "in legal writing, it's best to use the roman numerals. especially for conditions."

mia shrugs. "fine. if you're okay with an confusing document."

"confusing, is it?"

no, mia thinks to herself. this is like the most perfect contract i've ever seen in my life. "i mean it's good. but this change would make it better."

"i think... i think i'll leave it."

"fine. you also spelled your name wrong."

"what?"

she scrolls all the way up. "see? you wrote harty styles instead of harry styles."

"i did not! you changed that!"

"i didn't. i just can't believe you don't know how to spell your own name." she clicks her tongue. "sad."

harry raises his eyebrows in disbelief and then laughs. he leans forward and takes the laptop from her, shutting the top and setting it aside. once his ipad is secured beside her, he stands and leans down on the desk. he kisses her quickly, holding her hips firm against his.

"not a single mistake, hm?" he teases, tilting his head to kiss her over and over. she whines and grabs his collar, kissing him back.

"not a single one," she complains, kissing down his neck swiftly, all the way down to his collarbones as he throws his head back and laughs softly.

"just for that, you should be the one making lunch."

she whines again, wrapping her arms around his hips to make sure he doesn't move. "take a break. please. let's go to our room."

harry peeks at the clock. "my next meeting is in barely 3 minutes, baby."

"i can't wait that long!"

he smiles and gently pries her off of him. he holds her face and says, "you'll survive." he fixes his hair and collar and then sits back down opening his laptop again.

he's instantly focused on his work again while makes mia growl and kick her legs, irritated.

he glances at her. "it's only twenty minutes."

"that's so long!"

"i'm sure you can find something to do in those twenty minutes. like your job."

mia crosses her arms and hops off his desk. she goes to head out the door, but suddenly pauses. she waits until harry is logged into his meeting to crawl under his desk and smile all innocently at him.

"mia." he says it warningly, but also breathlessly. she's certainly not imagining he way he parts his thighs to let her in between them.

"you said to make myself busy."

when harry greets his employees, mia reaches for his belt, undoing it silently.

#harry and mia #hope this is good!#harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff

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thescrumptiousstuffs · 10 months

Text

Dangerous Romance Episode 2

In which round 2 of Kanghan versus Sailom continues with Sailom proving to be as steadfast and whipped smart while Kanghan and his bruised ego made multiple attempts to get Sailom to break without success 😂😂

It opens up with Sailom answering maths/physic questions without needing to do any calculations, while simultaneously helping Auto with his homework despite a wonky laptop. Kangham and his cronies (on the other hand) are licking their wounds and tries to erase all evidence of the Sailom-Kanghan kiss 💋.

It’s ironic then his own buddy (Max) didn’t do so and the video eventually made its way to grandma. Kanghan tries his hardest to flip the narrative by lying to his grandma but grandma (I love her!! Such dignity and poise) with the help of Pimfah is already aware of Kanghan’s bullying nature (this is why women in most Thai BL dramas are the superior species 🤫) and not only gave a much needed kick to Kanghan’s ego (hah! She made him apologise to Sailom 😝) but also delivered the ultimatum to the useless home school teacher, invest on more CCTV to make the school safer AND offered Sailom to tutor his unrepentant grandson 🫣

Sailom tries to avoid taking up the offer, but with debt mounting and a carefree brother, he took the job (and as a bonus continues to frustrate a seething Kanghan 😅) - also Kanghan brought it on himself by trying to sabotage Sailom’s work - Sailom continues to have some of the best line in this episode “Haven’t you heard of the Cloud system, the work is uploaded automatically.” “From now on, call me Tutor Sailom 😁”

He tries his hardest to teach an uninterested Kanghan but ultimately gave up and return the money to Kanghan (not before delivering a much deserved punch to the latter’s face! - urghh Kanghan made a douchebag move, basically framing Sailom as a pervert preying on young children, and making the former lose his tutoring job of teaching primary school students) - I think it’s also quite telling it’s the way Kanghan besmirch his reputation that finally made him angry enough (not the bullying, not the rudeness and how Kanghan threw his money to Sailom etc) - and this is consistent with what we know of Sailom’s character. He has never been tempted (yet) with money, not if it means sacrificing his honesty and integrity. And so for Kanghan to sully his reputation as a provocation, well, I don’t blame him for giving a shiner to Kanghan.

We finished the episode with Kanghan deciding to threaten Sailom with an empty gun to comply with his demands but it ended up with him saving Sailom from a beat up/torture (can’t believe those thugs almost used an iron to burn his arms!! 😱).

And this (in my humble opinion) is where we see the turning point for the Sailom-Kanghan’s interaction. While the latter can be a douchebag and a bully, he is not exactly an evil person (just terribly immature and spoilt). Finding Sailom who carries himself with dignity; breaking down, scared and crying to the point he hugged his not-friend is likely an eye opener for him - realising how hard Sailom works in school and his side jobs to pay off his debt while still maintaining his integrity (we see all the flashbacks of what Kanghan did to inconvenient Sailom, and while the latter always push back he never retaliated…)

It should be interesting to see how their friendship (and love) blossom now that Kanghan has declared to Sailom, Saifah and himself again that Sailom is his tutor (I think both Sailom AND Kanghan looked stunned when he said that 😅)

25/08/2023

* Saw a tiny smidgen interaction of Guy and Nawa! I think it will be a riot once they get their act together! 😉

**Also - 💕 grandma and Pimfah, they both love Kanghan but very much aware of his shortcomings - Pimfah “I don’t want him to be more astray.” 🤌 and Grandma not giving an inch to Kanghan 😏)

#dangerous romance #episode 2 #kanghansailom #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit #view benyapa #aj chayapol #euro thanaset #pepper phanuroj #papang phromphiriya #pawin kulkaranyawich #marc pahun

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realityjoey · 14 days

Text

THE WOULD-BE PRINCE OF DARKNESS (1.3)

COLOUR KEY.

RED = lust / hot / tension / desire / dirty / overprotective

ORANGE = family & friends moments

GREEN = anger / jealousy

BLUE = sad / denial / confusion

PURPLE = romantic / cute / they’re so in love / caring

PINK = funny

The next day, Joey had woken up and decided to do some further research on Lucifer. She was currently sitting at the breakfast table of her house, laptop open, googling ‘debunking hypnotism’.

Joey was focused on reading an article when Arlo comes through. “Are you doing homework?” He asks, looking up at her curiously.

“Um, sort of.” Joey replies.

“What’s the assignment?” Arlo asks.

“Uh, well, I saw Lucifer do some things that I can’t explain.” Joey replies, vaguely.

“Is Lucifer a magician?” Arlo asks, smiling.

“That’s sort of what I’m trying to figure out.” Joey says.

“When Stevie comes, maybe he can help.” Arlo suggests. “Sometimes Stevie helps me with my homework.”

“I’m not sure Steve has the answers to these questions.” Joey says.

“Why don’t you just ask Lucifer?” Dev asks, from the sofa.

“Because if he’s a magician, then he won’t reveal his secrets.” Joey tells her. “So I have to find out on my own how Lucifer does… these things…” She says, when suddenly her phone starts ringing. “That I can’t explain.” She then picks up her phone, seeing it’s coming from an unknown number. “Oh, that can’t be him.” She mumbles to herself, before answering. “Anderson.” She answers. “Lucifer, how did you even get this number?” She asks, Arlo grinning up at her.

Lucifer had asked Joey to meet him at a location as it was an ‘emergency’ yet he wouldn’t specify what. Steve had collected Arlo and Dev to take them to school, and Joey headed straight over.

“Excuse the mess, but it’s so good of you to come, Detective Anderson.” Lucifer thanks, walking her through the mansion as Joey looks around, confused.

“Thanks for being super cryptic in a really unhelpful way. What’s the emergency?” Joey asks.

Lucifer chuckles, then places a hand on the small of her back, directing her in the right direction. “Well, it’s— it’s better to show than tell, really.” He says, stopping in front of a swimming pool, where he points uncomfortably to a dead girl, floating face down in the pool.

Joey had gotten a team over, and had spoken to the coroner. They had found out it was a murder rather than an accident, so Joey began assessing her suspects.

“So, what happened?” She asks Ty Huntley, the owner of the house, therefore host of the party.

“Um, well, I woke up early, ‘cause my head hurt. I… uh, I had a hangover. I… I’ve never drank before, so…” Ty begins.

“That’s on me. Sorry.” Lucifer apologises, interrupting them.

“Yeah, so I came down to get some water and that’s— that’s when I saw her in the pool.” Ty explains.

“Did you know her?” Joey asks.

“Not before last night.” Ty answers. “I talked to her for a little bit. Her name was, uh, Ali, maybe?” He says. “I don’t know, I mean, I’m having a hard time remembering.” He sighs. “You think she fell in the pool and drowned?”

“No. I think she was murdered.” Joey states.

“Oh, my God, that’s… that’s terrible.” Ty says.

“So why didn’t you call the police right away?” Joey questions.

“Well, I told Lucifer. And he said… he said that he would call the police.” Ty replies, looking at Lucifer.

“And I did.” Lucifer says, as Joey glares at him. “Detective Anderson is a homicide detective. She’s been very helpful in the other murders that I’ve encountered.” He tells Ty, proudly.

“I am not your personal police concierge.” Joey whispers, facing Lucifer.

“You are gonna find out who did this, aren’t you?” Lucifer replies, smiling.

Joey inhales deeply. “Of course I am, because that’s my job. Not because you want me to.”

“Right.” Lucifer scoffs.

“First things last: Do you have any idea of who had contact with her last night?” Joey turns her attention back to Ty.

“Um, no, uh, no, but they asked me to get the… the guest list.” Ty replies, handing Joey a sheet of paper.

“Oh, geez.” Joey whispers to herself. “250 guests. You know what that means.” She says to Lucifer.

“Great party.” Lucifer smiles.

“250 suspects.” Joey corrects, sighing.

Later on, Joey catches Lucifer irritating one of the forensic scientists by messing around with their equipment, so she walks over, grabs his arm, dragging him away. “Stop interfering.” She tells him.

“I’m helping. You forget that my expertise is finding the right people to punish, Detective.” Lucifer replies. “It’s what I do. Or, uh, did at least.”

“You want to do something? Then help account for everyone who was at the party.” Joey says.

“Oh?” Lucifer says, raising his eyebrows.

“Coroner puts the time of death between 1 and 3am. Actually, is there someone who can vouch for your whereabouts at the time?” Joey asks.

“Several someone’s, in fact.” Lucifer grins, then looks over to a trio of girls talking to a police officer and points in their direction. “Get them to tell you every little detail just to make sure that I’m not lying.”

“I’ll have someone else handle that.” Joey says bitterly, walking away.

“So… a bona fide killer on the loose that needs to be punished.” Lucifer shouts, following after Joey, who’s now leaning over Ty. They’re looking at the photos from last night. “Time to punch in.” He says, peering over Joey’s shoulder.

“There she is.” Joey says, pointing at the screen. “Do you know anyone here?” She asks Ty, referring to the other people around Ali in the photo.

“No, sorry.” Ty apologises, looking at the people in the photo. “I mean, people just show up to these things.” He shrugs.

“Did anyone look suspicious?” Joey asks.

Lucifer scoffs. “Where do we start, Detective? I mean, look at those big strong hands.” He says, pointing at a man in the photo. “Perfect for squeezing the life out of someone.” He says. “Oh, ginger lad.” He points at the red-head. “Soulless bastards. Give even me the creeps.” He shivers. “I..” He goes to continue, until acknowledging Joey’s glare.

“You need to sit with the witnesses.” She decides, taking a hold of his hand and leading him over.

“Haven’t I proven myself extremely useful at detectiving?” Lucifer argues.

“Actually, no. I don’t need your help colour-commentating.” Joey tells him. “I need facts and hard evidence. So, unless you can help me with either, stay.” She orders, as she slides the door shut, leaving Lucifer on the other side to her.

“But I don’t want to be stuck out here with these miscreants.” Lucifer complains, looking through the transparent sliding doors at Joey.

“These are your people.” She teases, before walking away.

“Detective!” He shouts through the glass, placing a hand on it, but giving up when he realises Joey has left. Lucifer looks around at the people surrounding him, seeing somebody throwing up in a nearby bush. “This won’t do at all.” He mumbles to himself.

Meanwhile, Joey had been searching through all of the leftover items from the party, when Dan and Chloe enter the room.

“Hey. We heard all hands on deck, so we came as quick as we could.” Dan tells her.

“These all the unclaimed items from the party?” Chloe asks, as her and Dan slide a pair of gloves on.

“Yeah, I checked everything. Unfortunately, no I.D that matches our victim.” Joey tells the two.

“So, what are you thinking?” Dan asks.

“Well, I’m thinking our victim wore a cute red dress.” Joey begins, handing Chloe the iPad with the photo of the victim for them both to look at. “There’s no way she’d have that pink clutch. She was out to have fun, so that nixes anything big and bulky, like a tote.” Joey rambles, tossing aside unsuitable items. “I don’t know. I’m looking for something small, a little sexy, classy…”

Chloe notices a small, sparkly silver purse, and picks it up. “Something like this?” She asks, handing it to Joey, whose eyes light up.

“Wait a minute, I thought you said all this stuff was searched already for I.D.” Dan questions.

“I’m not looking for an I.D. I’m looking for a car.” Joey replies, finding the car keys in the silver purse, fishing them out and pointing them to the car on the driveway, unlocking it. Bingo.

Due to Joey finding the car keys and now having access to the car, they were able to discover further details about their victim. “Ali Thornton, 23, from Boise, Idaho.” Dan reads off the iPad. “Her info matches the registration we found in the glove box.”

“Hmm.” Joey hums. “She was a long way from home.”

“What were you doing here, Ali?” Chloe asks, looking at the photo of Ali again.

“I’ll see what I can find on her.” Dan says, picking up the iPad, leaving.

“Detectives, I found something in the master bedroom.” An officer tells Joey and Chloe, leading them upstairs. “Found this here in the bed.” She tells them, picking up a fake acrylic nail between a pair of tweezers, shining a torch on it for them to get a better look. “And it matches the missing fingernail of the victim.”

“Isn’t this Ty’s bedroom?” Chloe asks.

“Yeah, looks like they did a lot more than talk.” Joey replies, when suddenly the sound of a woman moaning comes from the other side of the wall. Joey follows the sound, peering round the corner, looking down the corridor, only to spot Lucifer leaning against the wall, smirking at something he was watching on his phone— where the sound was coming from.

Joey leaves the master bedroom, making her way up to Lucifer. “What the hell are you doing?” She asks, irritated.

“Well, since you banished me outside with the lepers, I decided to make myself useful.” He replies, keeping his eyes locked on the screen.

“You call watching porn on your phone useful?” Joey asks.

“This isn’t my phone, Detective.” Lucifer corrects. “I think it’s our recently departed’s.” He tells her. Joey then takes the phone from his hands, looking at the screen.

“Where did you get this?” She asks, realising it’s a sex tape of Ty and Ali.

“Just heard a ringy-ding and followed the noise. Now, is delete the little rubbish bin—?” He begins, going to press the delete button.

“No.” Joey says, moving the phone out of his reach. “You can’t delete anything on this phone.”

“But it shows Ty and Ali having sex.” Lucifer says. “It’s very distracting.”

“Wait.” Joey says quietly, still watching the video.

“Ooh, you reached the money shot?” Lucifer asks, peering over her shoulder to watch the rest of the video as well.

They watch the video together. In the video, Ty is seen to notice the camera and the fact that Ali is filming them. Ty then angrily grabs the phone, ending the video. Joey’s face drops; she looks down the corridor, seeing Ty speaking to an officer. Suddenly, she makes her way towards him— fast.

“Where are you going?” Lucifer calls. “Detective!” He shouts, following after her.

“Hey!” Joey says, approaching Ty.

“What’s going on?” Ty asks, confused at Joey’s demeanour.

“Detective, you’re making a mistake.” Lucifer tells her.

“Stay out of this, Lucifer.” Joey tells him. “Cuff him.” She orders the officer who had been previously talking to Ty.

“Wait, what?” Ty asks, as his hands are cuffed behind his back.

“Ty Huntley, you’re under arrest for the murder of Ali Thornton.” Joey states.

“This is ridiculous. Lucifer, this is all your fault. I wish I’d never met you.” Ty blames him angrily.

The officer takes Ty away. Lucifer sighs, turning to Joey. “Trust me, Detective. I have been doing this a long time. I know evil. You’ve arrested the wrong man. The person responsible is still out there.”

“How are you so sure?” Joey questions.

“Well, what desire would Ty have to kill a girl giving him a wonderful time?” Lucifer retorts.

“Ty had a squeaky clean image. He sleeps with a girl. Then he finds out she’s taping him. She’s gonna ruin everything. He gets angry and loses control. You saw the video.” Joey guesses.

“The only thing that video proves is that Ty had sex.” Lucifer defends. “He was horny, not murderous.”

“Then why would he lie about it?” Joey asks.

Lucifer pauses. “Blame the tequila.”

“He had motive and opportunity.” Joey shrugs.

“Look, I just want to make sure that you’re punishing the right person.” Lucifer says.

“I will.” Joey nods. “That’s what I do.”

“Lovely, we want the same thing.” Lucifer smiles. “And there’s something else on the phone that you should look into—“

“No more porn. I’m good.” Joey interrupts.

“No, it’s not that. We should look into it—“

“We, as in the LAPD, will look into it.” Joey interrupts again. “You can go now.” She dismisses, as he nods hesitantly, walking off. As soon as he’s out of sight, Joey curiously opens up the phone.

Lucifer makes his way back to Lux, when he notices Maze by the bar. “Line up some shots, Maze.” He calls as he walks down the stairs. Maze turns around, holding a hand up for him to wait as she’s listening to someone on the phone. Lucifer sighs, “Oh, hell, I may just take a bottle.”

“Thank you.” Maze says to the person on the phone, then puts it down. “That was the LAPD.” She tells him.

“Ah, was Detective Anderson calling to apologise?” He assumes, pouring himself a drink. “Unless it involves lingerie, I don’t accept.” He smirks.

“Financial Investigations Unit.” Maze corrects.

“Hmm?” Lucifer furrows his eyebrows.

“Apparently, you destroyed the honeymoon suite at the Budget Hut in Tarzana last night.” Maze tells him, struggling to withhold her laugh.

“I’d rather return to the fires of Hell than spend a night in Tarzana.” Lucifer says, scrunching his face in disgust.

“And then, someone with your name and credit card skipped out on a $2,000 tab at Zany Wings.” Maze now lets her laugh out, turning into a cackle.

“Do I look like I’d eat a Zany Wing?” Lucifer asks, offended. “Someone is clearly masquerading as me!” He says, as Maze continues laughing. “Rap battles and hot wings.” He scoffs. “You need to find this cheap knockoff and make him suffer— do you understand?”

“Why? You said it yourself— humans are fascinating, right?” She teases. Lucifer scoffs. “I can’t wait to see what this one does next.” She grins, walking off, laughing to herself;f.

Lucifer then decides the best solution to discuss his feelings about this impostor is to visit Dr. Linda. Currently, he is pacing up and down the room whilst Linda listens to his ‘extreme’ problem.

“It’s not right!” He declares. “I mean, Budget Huts and Zany WIngs?! I mean, this malfeasance reprobate is diluting the Lucifer brand! Finally, I get my father’s beef with graven images.” He says, angrily.

“Sounds like this guy’s really gotten under your skin.” Linda comments.

“Typical in a town full of charlatans. This is a place built on lies where nothing is authentic or genuine. You don’t even have to be famous to get a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame? You can just buy one!” He yells, astounded.

“Are we still talking about the imposter?” Linda asks.

Lucifer finally sits down. “Yes. I’m gonna tear him limb from limb.”

“Uh… is it possible you might be overreacting a bit?” Linda suggests.

“No!” Lucifer disagrees. “How would you feel if some off-the-rack impostor was dragging your name through the trenches of Encino?”

“Well, someone stole my identity a few years back. And after a few long calls to the IRS and the bank, everything was fine. No big deal.” Linda says, only to receive a scoff from Lucifer.

“No big deal.” Lucifer laughs. “That’s because you’re you. I’m me! And this is a— a travesty!”

“But your reaction, your anger towards this minor inconvenience feels a little… disproportionate to the crime.” Linda tells him. “There might be some displacement.”

“I’ll show you displacement when I displace his bollocks and throw them on the floor and stamp on them one at a time!” Lucifer snaps.

“Why don’t you tell me again about this case you were working on?” Linda changes topic.

“Well… nothing more to say.” He shrugs, taking a sip of his water. “A girl was killed and Detective Anderson is going after the wrong person.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Linda asks.

“Well, why should it?” Lucifer replies.

“Well, because from everything you’ve told me, it sounds like Ty probably had nothing to do with this murder. That he got himself into— or someone helped him into a bad situation.” Linda explains. “And that bothers you.”

“Yes.” Lucifer nods.

“Why?” Linda asks.

“Because I punish the guilty. And Ty’s not guilty.” He replies, leaning forward, smiling as an idea pops into his head.

Meanwhile, Joey was visiting Ty’s agent in the agency building. Joey walks up to the front desk, showing her badge. “Detective Joey Anderson, LAPD. I’m here to see Ty Huntley’s agent, Joe Hanson.”

“I’m sorry, without an appointment—“ The receptionists begins, before Joey’s attention is caught by some loud laughing nearby. Joey looks up the stairs where the laughter was coming from, only to hear Lucifer’s familiar voice, seeing him talking to a bunch of agents.

“Let me get this right, the clients do all the work, yet you chaps make all the money?” Lucifer smiles, the agents nodding. “Really? And they call me the Devil!” He laughs, and so do they. “If I ever return to Hell, you kids will be my first call.”

Joey shakes her head, walking up the stairs to him. “Oh, one last thing before I go. Which one of you is into killing attractive red heads?” He asks, just as Joey appears by his side. All the agents look uncomfortable. Rightly so.

“Lucifer?” Joey mumbles sternly.

“A word?” She asks, walking away from the agents.

Lucifer turns back to the group of agents. “Oop.” He says to them, as if he’s in trouble, before following Joey.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Joey asks him, once he walks back to her.

“Finding, then punishing Ali Thornton’s actual killer.” Lucifer replies.

“How did you know to come to this agency?” Joey questions.

“I tried to tell you, Detective. On the dead girl’s phone. She called here—“

“Here and traded calls with Ty’s agency a few hours before she was killed. I know. I checked her phone records.” Joey finishes off.

“And you’re welcome.” Lucifer smirks.

“I also found out that the call was transferred to Ty’s agent, Joe Hanson.” Joey adds.

“Right, so why did the dead girl even know Ty’s agent?” Lucifer asks. “I mean, she was Ty’s one night stand. It hardly makes sense.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here to find out.” Joey says, pointing out the obvious. “And that’s why you can go now.” She says, only for Lucifer to start laughing. “What’s so funny?”

“Well, the fact that you think I’m gonna go.” Lucifer replies, smirking. “It’s hilarious, actually.” He continues laughing.

Joey smiles dryly at him. “Lucifer, I don’t need your hep.”

“Look, I’m not trying to solve this for you. I’m ensuring that the right person is held responsible.” He says, as Joey shakes her head. “Look, come on, I’ve been helpful before, haven’t I, Detective?”

“You step out of line one time—“

“You can give me a right good spanking, I promise.” He smirks. “Come on, let’s go.” He says, brushing past her, back up the stairs.

They reach Joe Hanson’s office, and begin talking to him. “Ty wouldn’t do something like this. He’s such a good kid.” Joe says, sitting in his officer chair, as Joey sits opposite. Lucifer on the other hand has decided to scope out his office.

“I’m actually more curious about you, Mr. Hanson.” Joey replies.

“Me?” Mr. Hanson chuckles. “Why? I didn’t even go to the party. I had to work.”

“You spoke to the victim a few hours before she was killed.” Joey says.

“Maybe it’s best if I don’t say anything without my attorney.” Mr. Hanson says.

“Joey! Joe, Joe.” Lucifer suddenly shouts, catching Joey by surprise, only to realise he’s referring to Mr. Hanson. “There’s no need for that. Why don’t you tell me what you really want, hmm?” Lucifer says, walking over to him. “What desires drive a man such as yourself?” He asks, placing his hands on the desk, leaning closer to Mr. Hanson.

“I want to be the greatest agent of all time.” Mr. Hanson replies.

“Really?” Lucifer says.

“And to do that, I need to protect my clients.” Mr. Hanson continues.

“Come on.” Lucifer encourages, wanting more.

“And, uh…” Mr. Hanson falters.

“If you want to protect Ty, tell us what you know.” Joey says, standing out of her seat, leaning her hands on the desk like Lucifer.

Mr. Hanson pauses, then chuckles. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you everything. You look into something.”

“Here’s a deal. You tell us everything, and I don’t cuff you in front of your coworkers and take you in.” Joey replies. “I know how this goes. Ali’s a young actress looking for a break. An agent promises to help her out, in exchange she’s treated like a party favour to your star clients.”

“Okay, okay.” Mr. Hanson holds his hands up. “I did call Ali.” He confesses. “I hired her to have sex with Ty.”

“Wow, seems I wasn’t the only one who wanted the young virgin to loosen up.” Lucifer smiles.

“No, I loved the virgin angle. It’s a clean hook, got him a lot of attention.” Mr. Hanson says, before getting out of his chair, walking over to his draws. “But, Ty was a mess. I needed him to get over his ex.”

“Why?” Joey asks, as Mr. Hanson grabs a file from the draw, opening it and putting it on the desk in front of Lucifer and Joey. “Geez.” Joey mumbles, flicking through the file.

“Popular boy, this Ty— isn’t he?” Lucifer adds. “So what, did this anger his ex or something?” He asks, pointing to the file which was almost like a shrine of Ty.

“No, it’s from his ex.” Mr. Hanson says. “Debra Macall. She left this behind one of the many times she came here trying to find him.” He says. “She used to call all the time trying to get a hold of him.”

“So, he dated a crazy fan?” Joey says.

“He didn’t know it at the beginning.” Mr. Hanson replies. “So when I figured it out, he had already fallen for her.”

“Oh, I supposed I can understand why.” Lucifer chuckles, pointing to one of the photos of Debra, showing Joey who stares at him blankly.

“After a while, Debra got possessive, controlling— she thought she was managing him. So, I told Ty he needed to break up with her. He refused. I made Ty file a restraining order after she broke a girl’s nose just for buying him a mojito.” Mr. Hanson explains.

“Quite a hair trigger on this Debra, by the sounds of it.” Lucifer says, Joey humming in agreement.

“If Debra found out that Ty was with that poor girl…” Mr. Hanson says, shaking his head.

Lucifer and Joey had decided to go and visit Debra, who was supposed to be at some yoga class, so they were waiting in Joey’s car together for her to finish and leave the building.

“Hmm. Finally, some rain.” Joey comments, watching the rain drops fall down her window. “Maybe someone up there is looking out for us.”

“I can assure you, he’s in no way meteorologically inclined.” Lucifer replies. “Apart from the whole Noah thing, and that was a one-off.”

Joey pauses, looking at him strangely. “Anyhow, her roommate confirmed that she took the 4:00pm class, so… Ty’s ex should be out any second now.”

“I told you you had the wrong man.” Lucifer says. “Wrong gender as well, apparently. Finally, we’re getting warmer.”

“Why are you so hell-bent on proving Ty’s not the killer?” Joey asks.

“Like I’ve been saying, I want to punish the real killer.” Lucifer says.

“But why?” Joey asks. “Is it ‘cause you pushed him towards Ali at the party?”

“Well, I don’t see what that has to do with anything.” He replies. “And I think you’re starting to agree with me.” He looks her up and down. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“There she is.” Joey says, noticing the blonde girl walking out of the building.

Lucifer and Joey both get out of the car, walking towards her. “Debra Macall? I’m Detective Anderson, LAPD. We need to ask you a few questions about Ty Huntley.” Joey calls, walking up to her.

“I’ve got nothing to say.” Debra replies, turning her back and walking in the opposite direction from Lucifer and Joey, heading for her car.

“It’s either here or down at the station.” Joey says, carrying on walking after her.

“Leave me alone!” Debra shouts back, carrying on.

“Debra!” Joey shouts, when suddenly Debra’s car explodes into a cloud of flames, the impact sending both Debra and Joey to the ground. Lucifer, a few steps behind Joey, manages to stay on his feet.

The car is up in flames, the alarm blaring across the car park. Joey inches closer to Debra on the floor, placing a protective hand on her shoulder. “You okay?” She asks, but Debra is too in shock, looking at her car in horror.

“See? Warmer.” Lucifer shouts over the noise.

Joey had to call a whole squad down to the scene. It was now early on into the evening, although the sky had already turned a dark blue.

“Found this on the undercarriage.” An officer says, handing Joey a plastic bag with a remote in.

“Remote detonator.” Joey says, looking at the item inside the bag. “Whoever set off this bomb was nearby. Scour the security cameras in the area. Get facial I.D’s on anyone within a hundred block radius.” She orders, the two officers nod, leaving.

Joey then overhears Lucifer talking to Debra. “You couldn’t live with yourself for committing murder, so you set your car off to explode, didn’t you?” He accuses. “Eh? Wanted to go out in a blaze of glory.”

“Of course not.” Debra denies, as Joey walks up to them, standing next to Lucifer. “Murder? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on…” Lucifer scoffs.

“The bomb was triggered remotely. Whoever set it off did it before you got to the car. There’s a clear line of sight. I don’t think the plan was to kill you. I think they wanted to scare you.” Joey tells Debra. “So… you know of any reason why someone would want to do that?”

“No.” Debra shakes her head, a frightened look on her face.

“Yes, why did you run, Debra?” Lucifer asks, recalling what had happened. “Awfully guilty-looking.”

Debra hesitates. “I thought you were going to bust me for violating my restraining order.” She confesses. “I went to Ty’s party last night.” She reveals as Lucifer and Joey glance at each other suspiciously. “No, I… I just looked. From outside, through the window. I couldn’t help it, I miss him.”

“Yes, breaking up’s so hard, isn’t it?” Lucifer sympathises sarcastically. “You’re like two pathetic peas in a pod.”

“Okay, we are made for each other.” Debra says passionately. “As good as he is at football, that’s how good I am at being his girlfriend.”

“You mean ex-girlfriend.” Joey corrects.

“No, we never stay broken up. It’s just a phase.” Debra replies. “Okay, no one looks out for him the way that I do. And then I saw him kissing that girl and I…”

“Squeezed the life out of her?” Lucifer guesses.

“No!” Debra says.

“Where were you between 1:00 and 3:00am this morning?” Joey questions.

“The only place that always makes me feel better.” Debra replies.

Dan had come round to Joey’s later that evening for them to discuss further details on the case. They were currently watching the footage of Debra crying all night in a froyo shop.

“How long does this go on for?” Dan asks, shocked.

“Three hours.” Joey answers.

Dan laughs slightly. “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Yep. All night froyo shop puts Debra there well past the time of the victim’s death.” Joey says. “Her alibi checks out.”

“So Debra didn’t strangle Ali.” Dan concludes.

“Well, whoever planted the bomb went to great lengths to make us think Debra did it.” Joey says.

“Why?” Dan questions, sipping a mug of coffee.

“I don’t know.” Joey replies.

Dan pauses, then stands up, walking over to the kitchen, going into his bag. “We might actually know who rigged the car.” He says, catching Joey’s attention. She stands up, walks over to him. Dan opens up a file, showing her. “Ronnie Hillman.” He says, Joey looking at the photo.

“The big Hollywood fixer?” Joey asks, remembering the name.

“Yeah.” Dan nods. “A security cam caught her walking nearby, right after the explosion.”

“This can’t be a coincidence.” Joey says. “Someone must’ve hired her for this.”

“I’ve been trying to build a case on her for years, and every time we’ve approached her, she’s lawyered up immediately.” Dan says. “Ronnie is a pro.”

“So how do we approach her?” Joey asks.

“She’s picky about talking to strangers. Definitely no cops.” Dan says, as a light bulb goes off in Joey’s mind.

“What about someone she’d never expect us to work with?” She asks, thinking of a certain British man.

The next morning, Dan and Joey had gone to Lux to explain their plan to Lucifer. It was currently the following evening, and they were setting everything up in his penthouse.

“Do I get a code word?” Lucifer asks excitedly as he pours himself a drink. “You know, for when you take her down.” He says. “If so, might I suggest ‘monkey bottoms?’ ‘Cause trust me, I can work that into any sentence quite naturally.” He waffles.

“You sure this is a good idea?” Dan asks Joey, disapproving of Lucifer’s childishness.

“Lucifer reached out to her and she agreed to meet him, so it’s our best shot.” Joey replies, then looks at Lucifer. “And you won’t need a code word, and you wont be miked, because she’ll be looking for that. This is a simple handoff. All we need you to do is vouch for Dan as someone that needs her services.” Joey explains.

“Vouch for Detective Douche?” Lucifer says. “Oh, gosh, this is gonna be harder than I thought.”

“Once I engage with her, I will hire her to fix a problem of mine.” Dan continues, ignoring his insult.

“Right. Well, if it’s that stick up your ass, I’m afraid there’s no one strong enough to pull that out.” Lucifer teases.

“She goes there to fix my problem, our people will be waiting to arrest her.” Dan says.

“Ah.” Lucifer nods.

“And then we’ll have leverage to find out what she knows about Ali’s murder. She has information we need, so let’s just stick to the plan.” Joey reminds Lucifer, knowing what he’s like.

“Assuming, of course, Ronnie hasn’t run off because our sting suddenly turned into a Michael Bublé concert.” Lucifer teases, looking at Dan’s suit.

“Lucifer, this isn’t a game.” Dan says.

“Oh?” Lucifer replies.

“Now, are you up for this or not?” Dan asks.

“Am I up for encouraging someone to commit a nefarious act?” Lucifer says, walking up to Dan and Joey. “Mm, let me think. “ He says, then locks eyes with Joey. “Put me in, coach.” He says in a raspy voice. Joey sighs at his lack of seriousness, but nods.

They get the sting ready for action, and Lux is now full of people. Lucifer wanders around the club, when he walks past Dan, who has his arms spread on the booth sofa. “Try to look even more like a douche.” Lucifer comments. “Mission accomplished.” He says as he walks past.

Dan just ignores him, then notices Ronnie walk in. “She’s here.” He says into his mic.

“Okay, great. Here we go.” Joey replies into Dan’s earpiece from her position upstairs in Lucifer’s penthouse.

Lucifer sneaks up to Ronnie. “Ronnie Hillman.” He whispers in her ear. “Problem solver and extraordinaire.”

Ronnie smirks, turning around to face Lucifer. She traces her hands from, his face, to his neck and down his chest.

Lucifer chuckles. “You checking for a wire or are you just pleased to see me?” He teases.

Ronnie smirks, then presses his waist against hers very sexually. “Little bit of both.” She says.

“Mmm!” Lucifer hums, their mouths extremely close.

“Hello, Mr. Morningstar.” She says. “Rest assured… I can help you with your problem.”

“Well, actually, I don’t need your help.” Lucifer begins. “I… wait, what do you think my problem is?”

“Impostor running around ruining your name.” Ronnie answers. “Your professional reputation has taken a bit of a dive.” She tells him, before leaning in to whisper in his ear, “As has your sexual one, I’m afraid.” She taunts. “All those unsatisfied ladies… word gets around.” She watches Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow. “That is the reason you reached out to me, isn’t it?”

Lucifer hesitates, momentarily looking over at Dan, before focusing back on Ronnie. “Yes.” He lies. “Yes, it very much is. I do have a problem that could use your help.”

“I am all yours.” Ronnie tells him, seductively.

“Oh! Well, I like you, monkey bottoms.” Lucifer chuckles, checking her out. “Now, here’s what I need you to do…” He begins whispering in her ear.

“Lucifer, what are you doing?” Joey whispers to herself as she watches them interact through the planted camera. “Hey, Dan, what’s going on?” She asks into the mic.

Dan looks back at Ronnie and Lucifer. “I don’t know. They’re still talking.” He replies, then sees Ronnie walk away from Lucifer, heading for the exit. “And now she’s leaving.” He tells her, jumping out of his seat at the same time Joey makes her way down to the club.

They both walk up to Lucifer together. “What the hell did you do?” Dan asks Lucifer, who is ordering another drink from the bar.

“I hired the fixer to fix a problem, like you wanted.” Lucifer replies, whiskey now in hand.

“You let her go. What happened to the plan?” Dan scolds.

“I made a better one.” Lucifer shrugs.

“How?” Joey asks, annoyed.

“Just sit tight, and we’ll all get what we want.” Lucifer says calmly.

Later that evening, when Lux was now empty, Ronnie had successfully delivered the impostor who had been stealing his identity, with a black bag over his head, covering his face; and hands tied behind his back.

Lucifer struts down the stairs of the club. “Finally!” He shouts, as the impostor whimpers. “The would-be Prince of Darkness.”

“Payment due upon delivery.” Ronnie tells him.

Lucifer lets out a wry laugh, holding a finger to Ronnie. “I’d like to examine the goods first.” He says, walking closer to the imposter.

“Your dime.” Ronnie replies, taking a seat at the bar, watching as Maze and Lucifer circle the masked individual like hawks.

“Right. Let’s see the face of my impostor.” Lucifer says, Maze ripping the bag off his head, laughing at his appearance.

“The resemblance is uncanny.” Maze teases as Lucifer walks round to her side to examine the impostor.

“It most certainly is not.” Lucifer says, offended. “How could anyone think that you were me?” He says, astonished as he looks the thief up and down.

“You know who you’re messing with?” The imposter questions, in one of the most unbelievable British accents ever. Lucifer raises his eyebrows. “I’m Lucifer freaking Morningstar.”

“Oh… are you now?” Lucifer says, gasping. The imposter nods. “Well… you’ve certainly been a busy bee, haven’t you, ‘Lucifer?’” He says, walking over to the bar, topping up his drink. “Eh? Apparently, you’ve started a modelling agency, pitched a Web series.” Lucifer walks back to the impostor. “And I hear you’ve also been very active with the women.”

“Ladies love me. What can I say?” The impostor replies, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

“It’s what they’ve been saying that’s the trouble. It seems you’re a bit of a two-pump chump.” Lucifer replies. “Also, a crier afterwards.”

“That happened one time.” The impostor replies.

“Right. Well, we can’t have you running around cheapening the Lucifer brand, now, can we?” Lucifer says. “What do you say, Maze? Impalement?”

“Hmm… why rush?” Maze says. “I say the rack.” She suggests, whipping the impostor teasingly with the bag that was previously on his head. “That way we can really enjoy it.” She whispers in the impostor’s ear.

“Better. Yes, much better.” Lucifer nods. “Every joint of every limb dislocated before it’s torn off.”

“No, no, no, no, no— look, look, look, I just… I just… I just wanted to get chicks and— and free drinks.” The impostor explains. “Um really, I—“ He says, then drops the fake accent, returning to his original American one. “My name is Justin. I’m from Sherman Oaks.”

Maze and Lucifer can’t help but burst into laughter at his patheticness. “Oh, Justin…” Lucifer smirks. “… the things I’m gonna do to you.”

“Oh, no, no, no, I-I’m sorry!” Justin apologises out of fright. “I only came here one time and I just told some girls that I owned the place, and… and that opened some doors for me and so I just started rolling with it.” He explains.

Lucifer grabs Justin by his collar. “How dare you abscond my name!” He yells.

“Please, don’t hurt me.” Justin begs, on the verge of tears. “Please.”

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Justin, I’m going to destroy you.” Lucifer threatens.

“Oh, this is so hot.” Maze comments. “It’s like you’re punishing yourself.”

Lucifer’s face drops at her comment. “Seems I could be just, um, overreacting a bit.” He says, loosening his grip on Justin. “Go.” He orders him. “Go on!” He repeats, and Justin takes no time to escape while he can. “And never sully my name again!”

Maze stands in front of Lucifer. “Let’s at least take a finger.” She pleads, eagerly.

“We’ve done enough, Maze.” Lucifer tells her, and she storms out. Ronnie then gets up from her seat at the bar, walking up to Lucifer. Lucifer holds up an envelope with her payment inside.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lucifer.” Ronnie says, taking the envelope.

“Yes, it was, wasn’t it?” Lucifer agrees. “Which is why I’m going to have to apologise for my friends.”

“What friends?” Ronnie asks, confused.

Lucifer’s eyes then trail to the staircase, where Joey, Dan, and some officers are entering. “Ronnie Hillman, you’re under arrest for kidnapping and assault.” Joey announces, jogging down the stairs.

Ronnie stays facing Lucifer, her back to Joey. Ronnie holds her hands up, and Joey walks over, grabbing her wrists and handcuffing her. “Would you mind calling my lawyer?” Ronnie asks Joey. “Her number’s in my back pocket.” She says, bending over slightly.

“Yeah, sure thing. I’ll tell her about the kidnapping, the airtight evidence we have, the attempted murder on Debra Macall.” Joey lists, standing next to Lucifer. “And then when we connect you to Ali Thornton’s murder, maybe you’ll get a nice injection of drugs, and you can go to sleep forever.” Joey says, Lucifer smiling at the harshness of Joey’s comeback.

“Hang on— I had nothing to do with Ali’s murder.” Ronnie says. “Debra Macall, Ty Huntley’s ex, she’s the murderer. I cared about Ali.”

“Mm-hmm, here’s what I think.” Joey nods. “I think you tried to scare Debra into confessing to Ali’s murder, but Debra didn’t do it. She’s got an ironclad alibi.”

“This is my fault.” Ronnie whispers.

“Why?” Joey asks.

“I promised Ali I would protect her. All she ever wanted was to be an actress.” Ronnie tells them. “She was gonna leave her mark. But you know how that goes. Endless rejection, she ran out of money. This was her first gig with me. She didn’t even know if she could do it. But I told her… I told her it was just like acting. Besides, who doesn’t want to sleep with Ty Huntley?” She says.

“I thought Ty’s agent hired Ali to sleep with him.” Joey says.

“He hired me for a number three special: blackmail. Slip him a roofie, get naked, whip out a selfie stick, and voilá.” Ronnie replies.

“Well why would he have any desire to blackmail his own star client, a client he’s all about protecting?” Lucifer questions.

“Ty’s agent told you Debra killed Ali.” Joey puts the pieces together.

“He did, yeah.” Ronnie nods.

Joey then taps Lucifer’s arm, nodding for them to have a private conversation. They walk a few steps away from Ronnie and begin speaking in low tones. Lucifer manages to guess what Joey is going to say by the look on her face.

“You think Joe’s the killer, that he took things into his own hands, quite literally.” He says, referring to Ali being strangled.

“We don’t have any proof.” Joey says.

“Right, well, how do you propose that we get him?” Lucifer asks.

Joey shakes her head. “Joe pointed the finger right at Debra, painted her as crazy.”

“It’s not that hard a picture to paint, in her case.” Lucifer adds.

“Why was he so certain she’d make a good suspect?” Joey thinks.

“Maybe he found out she went to Ty’s party.” Lucifer suggests.

“Maybe he knew she went to Ty’s party.” Joey says, a flash of realisation flickering into Lucifer’s eyes.

Joey, Lucifer, and a few backup officers make their way into the same agency building as the other day, heading for one of the meeting rooms where Joe Hanson was currently hosting a meeting.

As they walk in, Joe was finishing his speech, and everyone burst into clapping, smiling up at Joe. Lucifer decides to make their entrance known by joining in with the clapping, though extra slowly and loudly. Everyone hears Lucifer, and their heads spin round.

“Rebranded, eh?” Lucifer mimics, having overhead the final statement of Joe’s speech. “Does it come with a new scent? Free toy inside?” He teases.

“What do you want?” Joe asks, nervously, as Joey and Lucifer walk up to him. “Ty is free on bail.” He reminds them.

“We have to talk to Ty down at the station again, maybe walk him past a few reporters.” Joey threatens, as she grabs Ty’s arm, pulling him to a stand from the seat he’d been in.

“Whoa, hold on, uh, Joe, what is this?” Ty asks his agent, confused as he stands next to Joey and Lucifer.

“Oh, come on! This is ridiculous.” Joe snaps, as Joey passes Ty to the two backup officers. “Ty wouldn’t hurt anybody!” Joe shouts, taking a couple of steps closer to Joey and Lucifer. “What about Debra? I told you to look into her. She’s the crazy one.”

“Yes, well I thought it was her all along. I mean, the woman certainly redefines ‘intensity.’” Lucifer replies.

“But Debra was home with a friend the night of the murder.” Joey lies, attempting to lure Joe into their trap.

“What?!” Joey exclaims. “She’s lying.”

“There’s no evidence placing her at the party. No one saw her.” She tells Joe, before turning to Ty. “So, are you ready to face the cameras?”

“His sponsors will love the free publicity.” Lucifer says to Joe. “Tell me, what’s ten percent of nothing?” He adds, before going to walk out with Joey.

“I saw Debra there.” Joe blurts out, causing them to turn back to him. “I went by the party.” He confesses. “But a work call came up, and I never made it inside.” He says, as Lucifer and Joey walk back up to him. “I didn’t say anything before because I told my wife I was working late. When I was driving away, I saw Debra outside Ty’s window.”

Joey folds her arms. “So you admit you were there that night.”

“Yeah, and so was Debra.” He reminds her. “That’s the proof you need, right?”

“That’s the proof we need.” Joey agrees. “We have a sworn statement from Ronnie Hillman saying that you hired the victim to make a sex tape with Ty to blackmail him. I just needed to place you at the scene.” Joey explains.

“Yeah, see, that’s why I don’t lie.” Lucifer comments. “It’s so hard to keep track of who knows what.”

“It’s not true.” Joe denies, then looks a Ty. “I only want what’s best for you, Ty.”

“You know, I still don’t understand. Why is it my own agent would want to blackmail me?” Ty asks Joey and Lucifer.

“Because he thought eventually you were gonna leave him.” Joey answers.

“What, because I took one meeting with another agency?” Ty asks Joe. “Joe… I only did that to make Debra happy.”

“But even though you’d broken up, he knew you’d get back together.” Lucifer continues. “So, he decided to strike first, get some leverage.”

“If he left me, I would be ruined.” Joe spits. “I mean, do you understand? He is my Brady, my Manning.” He compares, pointing at Ty.

“But Ali wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing, was she?” Lucifer says, raising his voice. “She didn’t want to give you the video.”

“Stupid bitch.” Joe mutters, causing Lucifer’s entire body to fill with overbearing anger. Joe turns his back to them, walking away. Lucifer follows him. “She said she realised Ty was a good guy. She didn’t want to go through with it.”

“Her name was Ali Thornton, and you killed her.” Lucifer states, angrily. “For what? Greed? Ego?”

“I didn’t want to hurt her.” Joe claims. “I just wanted her phone. And…” he sighs. “But I squeezed too hard.” He confesses. “I’m done. Forget this. I’m out of here.” He then goes to walk out the door, past Lucifer, who stops him. Lucifer holds an arm out in his way, gripping his neck and launches him through the glass windows. Joe goes flying, glass flies everywhere and everyone gasps, standing up.

“Did I squeeze too hard?” Lucifer shouts, ironically.

“How did you…?” Joey asks, as Lucifer had managed to throw Joe as if he was as light as a feather. “What did…?” She mutters, until realising Lucifer is making his way over to Joe, who was unconscious on the floor. Joey rushes over to him, placing both hands on his chest, attempting to get in between him and Joe. “Lucifer, what are you doing?” She asks.

Lucifer carries on tauntingly towards Joe despite Joey’s attempt to stop his movement. “Finally focusing my anger where it belongs.” Lucifer replies, not taking his eyes off Joe— still full of sheer anger and frustration.

“Lucifer…” Joey says gently, finally managing to catch his attention. Lucifer looks into her eyes, his gaze instantly softening. Joey can practically see the anger leaving his body. Lucifer takes a deep breath, chuckling awkwardly after realising what he’s done. “Yes, of course. Your turn, Detective.”

Later on, there’s sirens wailing outside of the agency and reporters ready to catch their shots of Joe as the officer leads him out of the building, cuffed.

“I still can’t believe Joe did this.” Ty says to Joey and Lucifer, as they watch him get taken away. “I wasn’t even gonna leave him, you know that? Definitely gonna leave him now. But you know what, you, uh… you stayed good to your word, Lucifer. Thank you.” Ty thanks.

“Yes, well, now you owe me one.” Lucifer tells him, smiling.

“Ty!” Debra shouts, pushing past the reporters.

Ty jogs down the stairs. “Oh, my baby. Oh, my god, I’m so glad to see you.” He says, as Debra runs up to him and he engulfs her in a loving hug.

“You are?” Debra asks, surprised.

“Yes. You are crazy, baby. But you’re my crazy, you hear me?” Ty says.

“Yeah?” Debra grins up at him. Ty nods, and they begin making out.

“Warms the cockles, doesn’t it?” Lucifer says to Joey, as they watch their interaction. Joey side eye’s Lucifer, not surprised he’s said something like that. “So, Detective, looks like you’ve solved another case because of me.”

“I solved this case despite you.” Joey corrects.

“What? What about the cell phone I found?” Lucifer asks. “That was key evidence.”

“Evidence you almost destroyed.” Joey reminds him.

“I got you the leverage you needed to crack Ronnie.” Lucifer argues.

“You co-opted a sting operation for your own gain.” Joey replies.

“And I solved another crime.” Lucifer adds. “Identity theft.” He chuckles, Joey shaking her head. “Come on, admit it— we solved this one together.” He says, then sighs. “Or are you too egotistical to acknowledge my help?”

Joey glances at him. “Okay, yeah, you didn’t completely destroy the case.” She admits. “So you can stop blaming yourself, great.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Lucifer asks.

“The whole reason you tried to prove Ty’s innocence?” She says, looking at him.

“Was to catch the true culprit.” Lucifer answers.

Joey nods, though doesn’t actually believe him. “Yeah, sure.” She shrugs sarcastically, before walking away, leaving Lucifer confused.

Later on, Lucifer had decided to pay Dr. Linda Martin a visit. After they’d finished having sex, he was updating her on the whole situation.

“So, I decided not to punish myself.” Lucifer tells her, getting dressed.

“Yourself?” Linda questions, having only the duvet to cover up her nakedness.

“Well, my fake self. The person I’d kidnapped. I decided not to beat him up.” He explains, sighing. “You were right, I was, um… what’s the word?” He thinks.

“Displacing?” Linda replies.

“… displacing my anger and frustration on Lucifer-phony, because the right person wasn’t being punished for Ali’s death.” He continues.

“And who was the right person?” Linda asks.

“Well, the sleazy agent, of course.” Lucifer says.

“Ah, yeah.” Linda sighs. “Of all the cities in the world, Lucifer, why did you decide to come to Los Angeles?”

“Well, the same reason as everyone else. Uh, the weather, porn stars, Mexican food— mm!” He replies.

“You know, you say… you say people are phone here, but I think people come here to reinvent themselves.” Linda replies. “And I think that’s why you’re here. To reinvent yourself.”

“Why would I mess with perfection?” Lucifer chuckles.

“You like working with the detective, don’t you?” Linda says.

“I told you, I’m good at punishing people— nay, I’m the best at punishing bad people.” Lucifer ignores her question about Joey. “I didn’t enjoy it when my father forced me to, but now that it’s on my own terms, it’s downright delightful.” He says, putting on his blazer.

“Yeah, well, I think you don’t just enjoy punishing the bad guys. I think you’re starting to like seeking justice for the good ones.” Linda observes. “Like Ali.”

Lucifer scoffs, standing up, walking over to the door. “Another reason to hate L.A.— all this self-indulgent therapy. You should be ashamed.” He teases, opening the door.

“You’re doing it again.” Linda sighs.

“What?’ Lucifer asks before leaving.

“Displacing.” Linda replies.

“No, I’m not.” Lucifer disagrees, smiling, before walking out, closing the door.

“And that’s denial.” Linda calls.

“That’s a river in Africa.” Lucifer tells her, opening the door again. Linda chuckles, and he leaves for good this time.

During this, Joey had arrived home, put Dev and Arlo to bed, and had been watching the cctv footage from the agency on repeat. She was trying to wrap her head around how Lucifer could do the things he does…

#lucifer netflix #lucifer tv #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar #fanfic #daniel espinosa #chloe decker #tom ellis

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silverskull · 7 months

Note

What made you start writing fanfic?

MS QUESERAONE

These asks do not always appear on my phone, and it sometimes takes me loading coal into the engine of my laptop and then navigating to tumblr dot com to find them...

I started writing (terrible) fic as a teenager back in my Stargate SG-1 days, because I fell in love with Sam and Jack, and had only recently discovered that you were allowed to imagine scenarios in your head and not just say your prayers when you went to bed at night. (I also had a brief Pokemon phase, but I’m not gonna even bold that one.) That fic all disappeared in a Blue Screen of Death home PC crash back in the day, and I gave up on investing effort into digital files until I had a more reliable backup plan. Despite that, I recently discovered (and discarded, with love) pages of A4 notes I wrote in secondary school that were actually just Harry/Hermione or Sam/Jack fic starters. Love the dedication - in fountain pen, no less! - from teenage me!

After college, cue LiveJournal! And Fringe! And community fic prompts! I loved it so much. I definitely wrote 3 solid fics for Peter and Olivia back then, but I was very at sea in real life, and I didn't keep it up. I uploaded them to AO3 in recent years, and I’m glad they’ve been saved for posterity. That show was very important to me too.

After LiveJournal died/sold out to the Russians, I gave up once again, and didn't even really read fic in any of my following fandoms. But then came The Pandemic, and Lockdowns, and lots and lots of time to rewatch my favourite shows, and my brain decided to fixate on The Rookie and Lucy and Tim. I am not sorry. I was struck with the disease and forced to stay at home and go on my little mental health 2.5km walk loops, and my mind started to suggest that I could write fic again. That I'd done it before. That the brain pictures could meld into a story, and that fic archiving (with the advent of AO3) was a lot more reliable.

So, a few lockdowns later, along came "In the Hole Together", a spec-fic for 422 that was founded on fan-detectivery and paracetamol. And when people actually got interested, I thought this was something I might be able to do.

AND THEN THERE WAS ACTUAL 422.

And "Roots Won't Keep Me Warm" was born.

I've never ever written something so long, so detailed and so intense, and it became a personal challenge as much as a dedication to the readers that were following along. The only two rules I've set for myself since then are 1) Don't try to use song lyrics as titles anymore, Sil, and 2) Always finish a multi-chap.

The way my brain operates, I can only work on one fic at a time, so I never have written WIPs hanging around (though I have many, many head-plots, and some of them are even stored as bullet points in a google doc...). I hope that the one thing I will always do is finish out a fic to its conclusion, as it is absolutely an undertaking I most appreciate in the authors I love.

I had some extra time this (northern) summer (personal reasons) to devote to ChenfordWeek and finish my second Big Long Fic ("Shadows of Deception"), but it hasn't been sustainable since then, and it makes me very, very sad. I have been so harassed and harangued with real life, that I could barely even Do Imaginations for Chenford, and - to be frank - that has been critically depressing. It always has for me, since the days of SG-1.

I love writing fic, and I hope never to turn it into a job rather than a hobby, because that has never worked out well for me in the past. That said, I have you, Ms @queseraone, to thank for getting me to sit down and face the music this Christmas/Winter/Holiday season, and actually write some new Chenford content. And it is h a r d. It is hard to do the thinking and the linking and the typing. It is hard to find the time and the will and the motivation. It is hard to have a plan and then another plan and then discard it all when you actually sit down to type. But I am really happy to be doing it. I really am.

And I can’t wait for @chenfordsecretsanta to arrive, and to share in the joy of a whole batch of new fics in our little fandom! To have something to look forward to that is closer than February 20th. To have someone believe in me enough to persist in prodding and poking me into committing to this challenge.

So thank you. Thank you, and I love you, and I appreciate you.

💖

#fic #ask and answer #personal

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thefaiao · 1 year

Text

About two months ago my laptop’s HDD died. I couldn’t really recover anything in the moment, and just left it unplugged inside the case until I could take it somewhere to check if it the files were truly unsalvageable. I wasn’t that annoyed by it. I had backed up most important files relating to game work, and I didn’t care too much about drawings that I already posted. I wouldn’t mind backing them up, but I wouldn’t lose sleep over it since they are posted somewhere already. This HDD actually had been on a long journey with me. It, together with the laptop, carried me through a whole year of living alone and isolated for everyone I knew. It had been having problems since forever but it soldiered through most of it. It’s actually impressive how long it lasted, to be fair. But any times it would show hints of death then, I’d have a nervous breakdown. My anxiety and isolation were at a critical level. Drinking some Monster sent me to the hospital for pure anxiety. So all the bad stuff blended together at the time, and I couldn’t bother to fix all of it. When you are living day by day and hanging on by a thread on all sides, every loss can feel very major. It only died after I moved back home. The worst part about losing the HDD was having to reinstall all the programs, and relearn my routine. When working on long-term projects, routine is really the only thing that can carry you further. Games are composed of so many different pieces. The amount of programs you have to use really incentivise terrible habits, like leaving the computer on eternally, or having multiple programs open at all times. When I got my first drawing tablet, my thought process was: “If I put this in front of me, eventually I’ll draw on it, even if out of boredom.” This actually worked. I think that by leaving all the different programs open, I am hoping to finish the game out of boredom. But it doesn’t work as well when you are on your mid-twenties and the weight of life starts creeping up your back. It just feels like you are stuck in some sort of hell, and if you aren’t using those programs or drawing, you aren’t really doing anything. I wasn’t a teen trying to teach myself how to draw like those cool internet artists; rather, I was an adult, with a faulty income source, alone, in the middle of nowhere. I think moving out of my Mom’s apartment was a form of attempted suicide. I think I just wanted to leave the world, make the game or die. Games take longer than it’d take me to die. Maybe I didn’t know this consciously, but deep down I think I understood. It’s hard not to feel like a failure. My parents always let me follow my whims. My Dad supports me, but I feel he sees me as more of a symbol. I don’t think he could describe my interests in detail, or the person I am. I am similarly distant to him, but I know he likes Blade Runner, and records, and running, and pretending to smoke big cigars. I like Blade Runner too. I wish he saw that I’m happy he likes Blade Runner, because I got to like Blade Runner because of that. My Mom does understand me, and is able to describe who I am. But I don’t ever feel she is happy with my choices. She doesn’t mention it actively, perhaps out of tiredness, but she wishes I had a normal job, or had chosen another subject that not games. I don’t think the drawings or the commissions I’ve done mean anything to her. I don’t think they mean anything to anyone outside of my circles... I managed to support myself with them, but I wouldn’t say it was a completely successeful endeavour. I think she sees the game as a waste of time and energy, especially if it doesn’t make any money. It might not make any money. It’s understandable. She won’t be here forever. I need a stable source of money, not just enough to pay some bills, sometimes. I feel I almost got tricked by the world into following my dream. I felt everything was telling me I should be honest with myself, and that I should chase after the things that mattered to me. So that’s what I did, and what I’ve been doing still. I’m not sure where I’m going in life. I think I just heard what I wanted to hear, and I always wanted to chase after a dream. Two days ago, my new SSD died. I had used it to boot the laptop back up after the HDD died. I had already gotten into the routine again. It was brand new, and gifted by my friend to me. I didn’t ask for it, she just did it because she knew I needed it. I often complain about life, but thinking back now, this is truly something not everyone gets. It was brand new. It died suddenly. I lost a good chunk of work on the game. We are getting closer to finishing the demo, so each part is major. I may have lost a model of the boss. This time I did have a nervous breakdown because of the loss of the laptop. The truth is that this past year has been setbacks after setbacks, and I feel my time ticking down. Money worries from both my parents. Dog getting a tracheostomy, and all the medical care surrounding it. Having to live apart from my girlfriend, which I am dedicated to being with as long as I can. Having to constantly move to other places, without any certainty for the future, for reasons internal and external. And death, death everywhere. I’ve gotten the habit of looking at my dog knowing he is living on borrowed time, getting sad, and petting him just a bit. I think that through all of this, I do a similar thing to the game. I look at it. Wonder how much time I have left to keep working and polishing it before moving on. Be happy about how far its come. Notice how much needs work on closer inspection. Get back to work. When I spend a few weeks away from the game I noticed how much I care for it, and how much I like what it is. I don’t think everyone will notice why this matters to me, but maybe that is fine. And similarly, I feel like this about my dog. He may pass away soon, but he came so far, lived fifteen years and had many adventures. And I got to take care of him. So it’s not so bad. And he still barks everyday, and he still takes sunbaths. He still thinks, and decides. The people who’ve been with me despite all of this puzzle me. My girlfriend has stuck with me through these decisions, and always says I am destined to make great things. The programmer, whom co-develops the game with me, has stuck with me and this game, and is willing to keep going as far as we need to make it complete. Things like this make me wonder if my dream is actually possible and real. And that I can brave through all these setbacks. Is the game really that good? Is my work that good? Does it even matter if it is? I often show it to people and they don’t understand what’s good about it. All I know for now is that despite everything, I want to work on it still. I want to make this weird dream come true. I won’t get to play a game like the one I’m making, but maybe someone else out there will get to play it the way I wish I could.

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nimbasa-librarian · 1 year

Text

A Foreign Word; A Familiar Feeling

Ennui.

Ah, yes, that was the word. Kalosian.

Anya was in some state of ennui. It was the only explanation he had for her behavior.

Milo wasn’t a very empathetic person - sympathetic, certainly! And kind! But he wasn’t good at knowing how others were feeling.

But lucky for him, Anya was the easiest possible person to read that he had ever met.

And she was… well, she wasn’t.. sad

But she seemed… stagnant

He knew what she was like when she was deep into her work, or even in a book, but none of those particular moods were striking her recently. She seemed… stuck? Yeah, that was a better word than “stagnant”

“Anya?”

“Aye?”

“Froh?”

“Yah?”

“Ree?”

Milo couldn’t hold back a snort at the fact that all of her pokemon answered with her.

The two of them had just had a very, very fun battle, where Anya once again didn’t speak a word, communicating with her pokemon only though sign language - making for one hell of a challenge. And he’d lost!

“I have a question. Tell me if it’s too invasive”

Anya tilted her head

“How have you been feeling lately? Because I think that you are not doing all that well, from my observation”

Taking in the question, Anya looked away from him, and he waited. If she needed to think, she needed to think. It was important to let that question marinate, particularly if he wanted a serious answer.

“... I think that I feel…. Like I could be doing more” She answered.

“More?”

“More… This job, while I like it… It’s not really… challengin’ me” She admitted “Ah think I’m… bored”

Milo contemplated the statement. Bored?

“Bored with what?”

“The work. There’s nothin’ in this library that’s hard t’fix or preserve. Its all very quick work”

“So you don’t feel.. Challenged?”

“.. I feel like I was given an easy job on purpose”

Milo could understand that.

He remembered when she’d invited him to watch one of her preservation assignments, just a 70 year old book that was out of print, it needed preservation.

The sheer effortlessness that she exhibited as she went through the motions of each page - she made a very interesting process look boring

“Hm, well how about looking for new work?”

“New work?”

“New work!” Milo nodded as he repeated the phrase “Find work with a library or preservation society that works in more challenging archival work”

Anya’s expression showed some souring “I did, before”

“You didn’t have experience before” Milo pointed out “Try again. You’ve been at this for a while, and I know that the archive is very pleased with your work”

Anya contemplated “hm… I’ll think on it”

“That’s all I want for you” Milo responded “Now… would you like to go get something to eat?”

Anya was staring at her computer with increasing frustration

“20 years - 20 f’kin years???? Of experience??? What absolute nonsense!”

Anya forced herself away from her computer, and sat on her little couch, grumbling and groaning

“Yama?”

The woman sighed, looking up at the Yamask “Seems I’ll be stuck ‘ere twenty years bef’re I can get a job at any good archive in Galar”

“Yama….”

“Aye, aye, i’s alright” She assured.

Ding!

She checked her phone - it was from Milo - a link with a question mark.

“Hm?”

She clicked the link

“WANTED” the page started “Experienced librarian and preservationist for open position at Nimbasa City Public Library. All Experience Levels Welcome”

“Nimbasa City…?”

“Yama?”

“Tha’s… tha’s in Unova! Across the sea! He’s gotta be outta his mind!”

Without even thinking, she called him.

“Do you think I'm crazy?”

“VErry!!”

“Well, In my defense I think it's not a terrible idea”

“It’s not a very good one neither!”

“Better than nothin” Anya could practically hear her friend’s shrug

“Beeeehhhhh”

“Ah, sorry, can’t stay on the phone”

“But-!”

“Please just think about it - call you later!”

And she was promptly left on the dial tone.

Anya sighed deeply, looking back at the open page on her laptop as the screensaver kicked on

… think about it, huh?

#FYI #pokemon #pokemon oc #nimbasa librarian #pokemon anya #anya ambermight #pokemon milo #gym leader milo #milo thatcher #drew #frankie #irene #yamask #frosslass #hatterene #galar #turffield #written #fan fiction

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adultingisfiction · 1 year

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Insert Cleverness Here.

I never thought that I would be doing online blogging again. Yet, here I am. It’s nearly nine in the morning and in all reality, I need to be getting ready for work. But that’s not what I’m doing, is it? Instead, I’m here at my laptop. My kid is running around the house behind me, probably destroying the foundation as I’m typing. Just kidding, she’s messing with the letter magnets on the fridge door.

She’s turning five in a couple of weeks and I’m very much ... not prepared for it. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically, sure - I’m ready. But everything else, I’m trying to hold on tightly to the last remnants of her fourth year on this planet. Unfortunately, despite how unready I am for her to move onto the next phase of her life, I’m afraid I have no choice but to just go through with it. I can’t stop her growth, no matter how hard I might wish that she’d just stay this little for a while.

It’s been a really weird 12 months for me. I moved on from a job that I held for a few years. I’d made friends there that I miss terribly now. We’re still friends and we talk on occasion, but to go from seeing them daily to almost never at all can be pretty jarring. I started working for a cell phone company last summer. I’m surprised that I’m still there considering how fucking awful I am at selling phones. I must be doing fairly okay since I’m still there. Somehow. I can’t really say I hate the job just because there are aspects of it that I don’t like. It’s just like any other job; there are some things I like and some things that I don’t.

But it puts money in my pocket. I get to pay bills and rent. I get to make sure my daughter lives comfortably, with a roof over her head and food on her plate.

I’ve been reconnecting lately with people from my past. When I say ‘people from my past’, I mean the people I grew up with during my middle school years. I went to a private middle school and saw the same group of kids for eight years straight. They were a huge part of my life and in some ways, they still are. They shaped me into the person that I am today. I’ve recently gotten in touch with a guy from those times - let’s call him Sam. He was the man who settled in my little middle school heart and has somehow managed to keep his seat all these years. It’s surreal talking to him again, hearing his voice that somehow hasn’t changed - but has changed all at the same time. He’s as sweet as I remember and he makes me wish sometimes that things were different somehow.

But I won’t get into that right now. That’s for another time. All I know is that it’s been an interesting year so far and we’re barely even halfway through it. I should probably end this for now. I know this post isn’t remotely interesting. But that’s okay. I didn’t start blogging again for others - I started blogging again for me. Because sometimes, the old tried and true physical journal just doesn’t cut it. So, until next time - or just a little bit later, I’ll be right back.

#online-blogging random-thoughts life personal-blog blahblahblah

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thiscrimsonsoul · 2 years

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{out of paprikash} So... my laptop decided to fry its harddrive this morning, and that means a lot of very negative things for me. Explanation and bit of a rant below, but I can’t promise how much writing I will get done tonight. It depends on time, mood, muse, and whether I even feel like being here, given my extreme mood drop. I will try to do what I can.

This has hit me hard for a number of reasons. First, I’ve been so busy that I haven’t backed up my files in six months. That means I’ve lost six months of writing progress on various projects, six months of work on Tumblr (files with tags, info dumps, headcanons, icons, reaction gifs, anything I’ve updated in my archives... it’s just how I organize my brain), and six months of music and photos.

The most heartbreaking of these losses is the writing/editing progress I’ve lost on various WIPs, but also I lost an entire folder containing pictures and videos of a pet that died recently. I had removed them all from my phone already, thinking they were archived on my computer, but hadn’t backed them up yet. It’s like losing him all over again. I also had pictures from my grandmother’s birthday, going out with my dad to our favorite pub, and other family things I can just never get back.

Understandably, and especially given that lately I’ve just been hit with one thing right after the other for several months now and I’m exhausted, this has very much taken me down and made me feel quite defeated. It is especially infuriating because I was planning on backing up all my files today, since I would have some time to finally do it and I just had a terrible feeling like I needed to do it soon. One more day... could have changed so much for me. But here I am.

I do have a backup laptop that I am using right now, but it is very old, very slow, and it has the processing power of a drunken snail. I can’t do the majority of daily things I do with my main laptop on this one, but at least I can still work and answer email so I won’t lose my job and I can do basic writing. No games, nothing with pictures or videos, but just basic stuff. But of course, that won’t help me get any of my files back. My dad is going to work on the drive to see if anything is salvageable, but there is absolutely no guarantee at all that it will be.

But the worst part... is that as of midnight tonight, my students have their first two forums assignments due. Which means... by tomorrow... I will have 600 forums posts to grade by Thursday, and now I have to do that on a slow, old, clunky computer that freezes up or shuts itself off if you so much as look at it funny. To give you an idea, it usually takes me about an hour and a half to grade one section of students. I have five sections. And that timing was with my fast-as-hell main laptop. On this slow ass boi? Who knows how long it will take me now.

And lastly, I cannot be without a fast, reliable computer. My entire job is online. The majority of my hobbies are as well. So... I will have to run out in the next day or so to purchase a brand new computer, having very little time to research which one I want to buy and paying full price because there are no sales going on right now to speak of. This is going to kick my finances in the ass like you would not believe. And when I get it home, I will have hours’ if not days’ worth of installing, configuring, file populating, organizing, anti-virusing, and settings adjusting to accomplish ASAP.

I will likely be getting the new computer Wednesday, since tomorrow I have to work all day, and I need tonight to try to do some research on what to buy. I’m not going to go on hiatus from all my blogs because I think doing some writing will help keep me sane, but my activity may be low until I get the new computer and can situate myself with it.

I’ll update on my other blogs as they are scheduled this week to let you know what’s going on. Please bear with me and sorry for yet another reason why I can’t just be here to write like I want to. Eventually the universe has to run out of things it can fuck up in my life, right? Right? R i g h t ?

#{ out of paprikash } ᵒᵒᶜ #{i had actually been looking forward to today}#{i was going to write the whole day and get a lot done}#{back up all my files}#{it was going to be great}#{and it was like the universe said oh no she's trying to be happy again}#{and get her shit in order}#{we can't have that now can we...}#{i swear i pissed off some primordial god somewhere and he has it in for me because fffffcuk}

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latetotheadhdparty · 1 year

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Aw shit. Hello void.

Well. fuck where do I even begin. Maybe a blog will help me actually work through all of the feelings and issues I’m having, and if I don’t ever remember to update again, who cares? Certainly no one on this crazy ass website.

Where am I at right now? physically, at home, avoiding something I feel I should do but don’t really want to do. I mean, part of it is the ADHD and maybe there’s some Autism mixed in there too. I dunno. anyway. I should be going to do a thing that I used to enjoy, but then expectations are put on it and all of a sudden, it’s no fun anymore. One of my cats keeps trying to interrupt my train of thought by playing with the power cord and biting the corner of the laptop screen. He’s the himbo of the family, and very soft. Back to the internal monologue. I want to enjoy things, but my sense of time is so fucked up it just. doesn’t work for most people. I never feel my age and can’t remember my age because outside of the physical breakdown, I legit don’t feel it. Timeless is usually said as a positive connotation, but that’s not my feeling on it. Maybe I’m lost in time? Dr. Russell says that you knock 30% off your actual age, and that is about where you are developmentally. That doesn’t really feel right either. In emotional maturity, I’m definitely my age. Impulse control, not so much. not quite “eat the marshmallow as soon as the researcher leaves the room” but I did buy the new Lore Olympus print book right away even though I really need to stop spending money. I guess some of this developed into where I’m at mentally, and I really intended that to be a separate paragraph.

Here we go. Mentally, I’m at what feels like an eternal falling, kinda like Alice on her way to Wonderland. No wonder I relate to that stuff so much. I have a high stress job that I’m both phenomenal and awful at. Easiest way to explain it is financial crimes investigation. So I’m really good at recognizing financial patterns that indicate someone is on some bullshit, but time is a struggle. Investigating the right amount of time to get the right amount of info and not too much or too little. (I’ve often thought of my ADHD struggles as trying to find balance, not treat symptoms to oblivion) Remembering the number of days that have passed since I decided something was bullshit is always a struggle. I try so so hard to remember what time is. I have a clock that ticks but it’s not loud enough and doesn’t have an hourly chime. I have a smart watch that yells at me on the hour, but so often it just doesn’t register. I have a planner that I do actually manage to keep up with, and i’m so proud of that, but I can’t figure out where that “something missing” out of it is. I’m just. Falling, all the time, out of time. Fuck time. I’m so mad about society’s obsession with getting everything done now and everything being done within a certain amount of time, when there’s often no good reason for it other than “oh someone might get upset”. Fuck them, let them be upset.

I’ve always known that to be happy, you must experience sadness, anger, upset, etc. Otherwise how the hell would you know what it actually means to be happy?

I’m watching myself type in the reflection of my laptop screen. Sometimes I really love parts of me. Like my hands. I wish I could do more with my hands.

My therapist reminds me that it’s not too late to do so many things, but how do i find the time to dedicate to learning them? I’m definitely part of the burnt-out-gifted-kid group that was actually a sufferer of ADHD the whole time. It’s been so frustrating. I spent years convinced it was ADHD, and now that I have a diagnosis, of course I wonder... Is it REALLY adhd, or am i just a terrible person? Bad at adulting. Ugly, too much personality and not enough shut the fuck up. or is that RSD? Fuck, I just want to know who I am. That was a surprise with diagnosis. Nothing like having an identity crisis around the time most people have a midlife crisis. maybe the midlife crisis for normal people is a midlife crisis. I never thought i’d have to deal with any of this. No one asked me in school what i wanted to be when I grew up. When i changed high schools, I no longer got asked about college plans. I got ignored. That hurt. It still hurts, and I made it through college. took twice as long and at a later age, but whatever I guess. I see now what Dr. Russell means. I’m so tired of feeling so hurt about my life. It’s not even about comparing what my life has been to what other’s lives are like. It’s about the feeling of lost potential. I know that’s going to be with me forever. Anger at not being listened too as a kid. Misdiagnosis for forever. a medical system that doesn’t care about actually solving problems. “We have to start with conservative treatment first” okay, but that’s not going to FIX the problem. “I know, but that’s what insurance requires” Why are a bunch of not-doctors making medical decisions for me. Fuck them. fuck this country full of selfish assholes. Whose idea was it to make anything related to health care a for profit venture anyway. Fuckers are fucked in the head.

Speaking of anger, I need to stay off reddit. AITA posts about asshole dads really hit home. Therapist told me I should write my dad a letter, but how do you even... that feels so weird. I guess I’ll just tack it on here. Dear Dad, fuck you for replacing me. Fuck you for taking any credit for any of my success when you’re not only the reason I have ADHD, but also the reason I struggled so much throughout life. Take your six figure income and shove it up your ass. You didn’t help me with a god damned thing throughout my life that actually mattered. You never came to my school graduations, you don’t even send me a fucking text message on my birthday asshole. I don’t care if it’s late, because oh lookit that, we have ADHD, time is an issue for us! You just never made an attempt to care, especially after you remarried and got the family you always wanted. the family you just expected me to perfectly mesh into, and made absolutely no effort to understand why I stopped coming to visit. Maybe it was because you kept moving further and further away. Maybe it’s because you never even asked how I felt about some things, like when you gave my room away because you guys wanted a den and a living room, and to do that you had to move the eldest interloper into my room. I would have said yes if you asked. It hurt because you didn’t ask. You didn’t help me with my cars when shit went wrong, except for one single occasion where you used your employee discount on a windshield and we swapped vehicles for a week. Great deal there, I went from a subcompact to a suburban. I could literally put my car in the back of that stupid monstrosity (also, don’t think I didn’t notice that as soon as y’alls were down to one kid on her way out the door, you replaced that Chevy with a Lincoln). When I got braces, you never called to ask how it was going, and didn’t pay for a dime (even though you should have, and i should have gotten braces as a teenager). Your reasoning is you weren’t going to pay for any of us kids to get braces because you couldn’t afford to do it for all of us and it wouldn’t be fair. The truth is you just didn’t want to spend your precious money on anyone but yourself. The camper, the motorcycles, the fancy vehicles, I know how much that costs, and I know you did it at the cost of literal health care for your children. Fuck you, no wonder gramma and grampa are ashamed of you. They helped every time you didn’t. They gave you opportunities to help, and to no surprise, you didn’t. The interloper that took my room always felt slighted by me being the favorite grandkid, and how dare i get so much from them. Bitch you stole my fucking dad. So yeah, Dear dad, I should call you a sperm donor instead. Because that’s all you seem to be. You didn’t help me with anything, you never offered to help me fix my house, or a car. For god sakes, I talked about restoring one of the motorcycles and that you should come help me BECAUSE I WAS TRYING TO OFFER A WAY FOR US TO BOND, not get told “well youtube has so much”. Jesus, my father in law picked up on it right away and is super excited for me to get the little motorcycle for us to spend some quality time together. My father in law is the dad i never got. Hell your brother is leaps and bounds better as a father than you ever were. God fucking damnit. Fuck you for all the hurt you’ve caused me, as well as gramma and grampa. I get they weren’t perfect parents either, but they sure as fuck didn’t deserve to feel so guilty because of your fuckups. The interlopers wanna know why I was the favorite? Guilt. Guilt is why. How’s that for a reason. While we’re piling on the guilt, how about the trauma of being named after someone who killed themselves? Thanks for that sperm donor. No wonder I hate generational names so much. My name was derived from someone who had the misfortune of having the same brain I do but before a time when men were allowed to go to therapy. Thanks for that reminder every time I think about my name, which is so out of pattern for my generation. I’m glad uncle is getting the farm and by default, everything on it. Mostly because fuck you, he deserves is. He actually tries to be a good family member. I’m glad you feel at least enough guilt you don’t want any of their money, and once they pass and I get the one thing you have I want, I’m never reaching out again. I’m so sick of being hurt by you. I’ll rewrite this letter and give it to you as a parting middle finger. You want to ever make it up to me, you reach out. Offer your time, offer to have me and hubs over for dinner, becuase that’s what i really fucking wanted all along. You were apparently too self centered to ever notice that. I know you think i’m a fucking gold digger child. joke’s on you, i’m the breadwinner and proud to be. When I have extra money, I do nice things for people just to see them smile, especially people I care about, because fuck you. I’m not you and will never be as selfish as you are. Mom talks a lot about how badly you wanted kids, to the point where I wasn’t really an accident. You have a funny way of showing it asshole.

Fuck him.

Okay, I see why my therapist recommended the letter. It’s not that I feel better, but it does feel lighter. My gramma saved my report cards, and the comments on it really drove home that the problem’s always been adhd. What’s more likely, an 8 year old with severe depression or an 8 year old with adhd and trauma. I could have been an architect. or an actuary. or an engineer. maybe i still could someday, but it’s going to take money i don’t have, since all businesses want college educated people without paying for their degree cost. Being smart with adhd sucks. I want to learn everything and do everything, but everything costs a ton of money and i can’t make my brain focus on something long enough to learn it without some kind of pressure. so all the lovely self guided courses? great, except I have no pressure to do them. FOMO eat your heart out, my ADHD whatifs blow you out of the park. If this does manage to show up for anyone, I’m not really looking for advice. If you happen to know some rich fuck looking for a pet creative, I’d love to just learn and create all day, but not at the cost of losing my house, partner, and pets. My house is my sanctuary, my partner is my rock, and my pets are my anti-depressants. My life has been filled with hurt and struggle and i’m so fucking tired all the time, but the good in my life i will absolutely hang on to.

I’m so exhausted.

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alettertomymommy · 1 year

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January 29, 2023

Whoa...it’s been over 6 years since I wrote to you last. So much has changed: I’ve moved twice; now it’s just me and the cats in Carol Stream. I got promoted, several times; I’m a “manager” now, with my own team of direct reports. Don’t ask about why I put manager in quotes; it’s a long, bitter story that I’d rather just gloss right on over.

A lot feels like it’s still the same: I haven’t spoken to Dad since August of 2016. Sometimes I think I miss him, but then I remember the pain/toxicness of that relationship and I realize that I really am better off not having a relationship with him right now. I’m not saying this is forever, but for now this is the way it needs to be.

Johnny is still my person; he took over once you were no longer able to be here for me. I don’t see him as much as I’d like to, but I’m working on that. He and Rodger moved from Sun Lake to DeFuniak Springs, FL. You’d love it there! The downtown area has a bunch of cute shops and restaurants. I can’t wait to go back. I am seriously considering moving to FL; possibly even to the same area as them. It would definitely be an adjustment and I’d possibly need to find a new job, but he and Rodger are what’s left of my family.

Work is work. I’ve been struggling a lot over the past year with feeling overwhelmed and burnt out. I finally admitted it to my boss during our last 1:1 and told her that I need support/something has to change. She was receptive and didn’t make me feel like I’m not good enough or that I can’t do my job. I felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders after the conversation and hopefully we can work together to make the changes that need to be made to ensure I no longer feel this way. And my team! They need support too, and I feel like I’m not doing very well at being their boss. Lots of changes to be made and work to be done, but I’m feeling better about it. Hopefully things will fall into place.

I just got back from Vegas...Alanna and I saw ADELE in concert. It was amazing, Mom. I didn’t cry as much as I thought I would, but I cried. She can sing and the show was awesome. On vacation I realized how much I was dreading coming back home to work and my ‘reality’, so I decided to make some changes. I decided to utilize the EAP from Claire’s to get some counseling. I had my first session on Friday and I’m really hoping that during the 8 free sessions I can get some good tools to work through what I’ve got going on personally and professionally.

I need to take better care of myself. I remember I used to get so mad at you for not taking care of yourself, and here I am doing the same thing you did. I just keep trying to keep up the routines and habits that I know I should, but I always lose focus/interest after a few weeks and then revert to all the unhealthy (mentally, physically, emotionally, etc.) habits that are comfortable. I also think I might have ADHD. I think I’ve had it for a really long time, but never knew was it was. Don’t laugh, but after watching a whole bunch of videos on TikTok, I’ve realized that a lot of my habits/ways of doing things are clear signs of undiagnosed/untreated ADHD. I just need to find a doctor to actually go to and get diagnosed. That’s a whole step unto itself that I’ll struggle with.

I’m trying not to whine or complain. I need to stop letting the negative things take over my emotions and thoughts. That’s part of what has been affecting me a lot personally and professionally. It feels like everything that happens has negative connotations and I seem to spiral into dark thoughts and feel terrible. I’m trying to start being more positive, so hopefully that helps. I’m really trying very hard right now to stay busy and not turn on my work laptop. I feel super behind, but that’s to be expected after being on vacation right? YES! I have to remember that I cannot be everything for everyone everywhere at once. That’s how I ended up feeling like this to begin with. I made a to-do list for tomorrow and it feels like a lot, but I’ve got to go to the office and hopefully being there will help me focus and plow through my list.

I’ve been watching James Bond films all weekend, so I’m going to go back to Casino Royale now. I’ve only been watching the Pierce Brosnan & Daniel Craig films because both of them are super attractive...and I do what I want. That and some of the older ones are just way too rapey for my taste. I’m going to have a little more pizza (homemade with Chef Boyardee sauce) and an apple and then it’s off to bed. Got to take my vitamins before bed though; that’s part of my new routine and I need all the Vitamin C I can get right now since I’m sick for the second time in a month.

I love you, Mom. And I miss you every day, still. It’s been 7 years since you left this earth and every once in a while it feels like it was just yesterday. I still wish I could call you whenever I need to, or even just hear your voice. I’m doing okay though. Yes, I’m struggling right now, but I’m trying to find my way out of the dark and scary place. I asked for help this time and I’m not going to just bottle it all up inside. I’ll write to you more frequently, I promise! I need to keep a journal, so maybe I’ll just write to you everyday as a way of chronicling my thoughts and feelings; like I’m having a conversation with you. Maybe that’ll make it a bit easier.

Love, Your Girlie Girl

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constablewafflebottom · 2 years

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Dream A Little Dream of Me

Chapter 6

Mostly fluff and smut here, with some self deprecating thoughts going on until Loki puts an end to that nonsense in the best way he knows how. What a cinnamon roll--a spicy, spicy cinnamon roll.

I'd been sitting in front of my laptop for half an hour, staring at the empty document while the cursor mocked me with every silent blink, and still I continued to put nothing on the page. It wasn't as if this was difficult, as if I didn't know how to do it, as if I didn't take courses specifically for this very thing in college. This wasn't difficult, but it was hard. I hadn't held a job for over five years, let alone applied for one, reliant completely on Michael's income to support us. Despite all of the other terrible things about my husband, and there were many, the one thing he'd always been good at was providing. What would it say about me that I'd been sitting on my ass for so long? Who would hire someone like me?

For multiple reasons, I tried my best not to pay attention to Loki, watching me curiously and very obviously wondering what the Hell I was doing staring blankly at the screen. I would absolutely let him distract me from my mission; even knowing that I *had to do this, my mind and my eyes would wander all over him–even though we'd had sex more times than we'd eaten today–that reminds me, I need to eat something–no, Moira, focus. See? He was distracting me without even trying. In addition to my various appetites, I was also feeling something between shame and insecurity. For whatever reason, he thought the world of me, but I still didn't think I had anything to offer anybody, let alone in a professional context.

I was trying to ignore him, sitting across the table from me, drinking a beer in a way that was far too unjustifiably sexy to be real, but the moment he spoke up and his voice reached me, I immediately gave that up and let him hold my undivided attention.

"What are you doing, my darling?" He finally asked, his green eyes bouncing between my face and the computer in front of me.

"Um, I'm trying to build a résumé, but…" I sighed in frustration, scrubbing my hands over my face. "I'm not doing a very good job of it."

"And what is that," he asked curiously. I had to remember that things like job applications, CVs, and cover letters weren't a thing where he came from.

"It's sort of a, uh, very specifically formatted list of things I have to offer a potential employer. Reasons for them to hire me," I explained.

"Do you know how to make one?" From anyone else, I would have been annoyed by the question, and I almost was. Years of Michael's condescension had me primed to see criticism in even the most innocent of questions, but Loki wouldn't do that. He didn't even know what the damn thing was, or the fact that I took career development courses, or how many of these documents I'd compiled over my educational career. So, I took a breath before responding, to ensure there was so defensiveness in my tone when I answered him.

"I do, I just," I hesitated for a beat, staring at the screen again as I decided whether to be bare my fears to him. There was no reason not to–he'd seen parts of me that even I'd never laid eyes on, I could be honest about this with him. Even still, I couldn't look at him while I said it. "I haven't done this in such a long time. I'm afraid that nobody will even give me a second look, Loki. And then I'm gonna be stuck here with Michael for the rest of my life–" No, I had to stop, I was spiralling. I sat forward with a shuddering breath, leaning with my forehead in my hands to make an attempt at collecting myself.

The chair creaked quietly as he stood and made his way around the table to my side. I still wasn't looking at him, but I was aware of him with every other sense. The smell of my own soap from where he'd hastily washed up while I sat here staring fruitlessly at my computer (he very adamantly did not want to use Michael's, he said he 'would rather smell like an ergi than an asshole,' whatever that meant), the heat of his body now so close to me, the soft groan of his leather pants as he folded up to crouch beside me and the sigh when I refused to look at him.

"Moira, darling, do you remember the conversation we had before we got out of bed this morning," Loki asked me. My brows scrunched behind my hands as I thought about it and what it could possibly have to do with what we were talking about just now. I nodded anyway. "You are accustomed to being treated as if you have no use or worth, as if you have nothing to offer, and nobody could possibly want you, right?" I closed my eyes to stop them from burning and swallowed with an involuntary cringe. Even though I knew he didn't think those things about me, it still hurt to hear him say it. "You know that isn't true, don't you," he asked in a whisper. Did I know that, or did I just hope it was the case? It was hard to combat years of psychological conditioning to the contrary. But, like I'd told myself the night that Michael fed the wall an entire pan of eggplant parmesan, Loki wanted me, and if my husband had been wrong about that part, it was entirely likely he could be wrong about everything else. My responding nod was hesitant but firm when I eventually gave it to him, and I could see the relieved smile on his face from the corner of my eye. "You have to believe that you won't be treated that way. You have to trust, if not me when I say it, then yourself and everything you've done and learned before he started chipping away at your confidence. You know what you know, and you are the one to decide where you go from here." My head jerked toward him and I stared at him in disbelief.

"Did you–did you just quote Dr. Seuss to me?"

"Who is Dr. Seuss," he asked with a confused shake of his head.

"The book, Oh, the Places You'll Go… by Dr. Seuss," I supplied, but Loki shook his head again."'You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You're on your own. And you know what you know. And you are the one who'll decide where you go.'" He shrugged with a thoughtful grimace.

"Well, whoever this skáld doctor is, they're right. Only, you're not on your own because you have me," he told me, taking my hand and holding it in both of his, while his gaze held me captive with its blazing sincerity. "But you don't need me, you don't need anyone, you can make a way for yourself, by yourself. I'm not going anywhere, so don't even think about it," he hastened to clarify with a lighthearted feigned severity that made me huff an amused breath. He grinned then, pleased to have brought me out of the funk I'd been trying to sink into, and squeezed my hand again. "I know you can do this, all of this," he insisted. It was so hard not to believe him when he talked like that. I knew he'd been called a brilliant liar before, but he'd also spoken hard truths just as often. The burning returned to my eyes and I blinked to clear them just as he reached to sweep an escaped curl from my face and leaned into his touch. "Why don't you show me how you do… whatever it is you're trying to do," he suggested with a dubious glance at the computer.

"Um, o–," I croaked and cleared my throat. "Okay." I shifted in my seat and returned my fingers to the keys, but before I could go any further, Loki stood and picked me up from the chair, planting himself in my spot. He settled me on his lap, effectively replacing my chair with himself, wrapped his arms around my waist, and tucked his chin in the curve between my neck and my shoulder. It was like being wrapped in a warm blanket made of muscles and reassurance, and I couldn't help but to relax into him.

The next half hour was spent detailing the sections and content for a résumé, my contact information, education, credentials, and relevant skills, but it was as I reached the work history portion that it started to get a little shaky. While I did have consistent and respectable employment starting from highschool and going straight through college, I had nothing in recent years and despite the assurances from my paramour, that still caused a lot of anxiety and discouragement. Even so, I finished the document and sent it to the printer in the office, hoping that I wouldn't end up needing all fifteen copies I'd requested, and started to look up establishments in the vicinity of my apartment that might be looking to hire when my stomach started growling. With a chuckle and soft kiss on my neck, Loki lifted me and stood, replacing me back in the chair.

"Why don't I bring you something to eat while you work on this," he offered.

"Oh, no, it's fine, I can–" I tried to decline, but he hit me with his now predictable line.

"It was a rhetorical question, little dove," he told me with a wink, and I knew I had no choice but to shut up and get fed. I knew also that there was a good chance he was hungry himself, but was too polite to eat without me, so I had even less to argue about. After he filled two bowls from the pot on the stove, I directed him to the fridge to get the sour cream and cheese, and then the pantry for crackers. He brought drinks and utensils and sat down in the adjacent seat.

"Why would you not simply mix those things in while it's cooking," he asked me curiously as he watched me prepare my helping with a handful of shredded cheddar cheese and a big dollop of sour cream.

"Some people like to have more or less of it in theirs," I shrugged and stirred the contents of my bowl into a creamy glop. "I like more, the functional idiot likes less. Besides, it's best to taste it first before you doctor it up, anyway. Little bites," I advised with an innocent smile. He glanced down at his own bowl, suddenly very skeptical of what was in front of him, and then back at me with narrowed eyes, not believing my disarming grin for a moment.

Slowly, and not taking his eyes off of mine, he scooped an ambitiously large spoonful and brought it to his lips, daring me to stop him. I didn't, only watched with an arched brow and little smirk as he put it in his mouth. He tried not to react, I could see the effort and concentration on his face, as well as the spice induced flush blooming on his cheeks and the sheen of sweat building on his forehead and upper lip. It was wrong of me to be amused, I knew that, but come on.

"You okay," I asked innocently. He only clenched his jaw and swallowed hard to get it out of his mouth, and reached for the beer to quell the burning. "Oh, no, don't do that," I cautioned. "Alcohol will make it worse, here," I scooped a spoon full of sour cream and held it up for him. He hesitated for a beat before parting his lips and letting me place it inside. The relief on his face was immediate, and he sighed with it. "I did try to warn you," I reminded him, stifling the giggle that wanted to bubble up, but he still gave me a half-hearted glare at being amused by his suffering.

"Why does it hurt? Is it supposed to hurt?"

"Some of us like it," I shrugged and returned to my own food.

"You people are mad," he muttered. I almost made a jab at him for the you people remark, but I figured he'd been through enough discomfort already. Poor guy.

"Put this in, it makes it a lot better," I suggested, pushing the fixins toward him. "You can just about neutralize the spice with it." This time I didn't even try to suppress the grin when he put almost half the container of sour cream into his bowl. He was reluctant to try another bite, but he couldn't exactly allow me to be braver than him, so he took it. Apparently, my suggestion worked, because he continued to eat after that with no complaints.

We didn't talk much while we ate, but Loki did mention that he would have to go home later that evening. He could excuse a single day away by saying he'd been hunting for some creature or another, but it would look suspicious if he was gone for too long. Also, there was some sort of agreement with Oðinn about drinking together that Loki had to be present for and the old man would be annoyed with him for not keeping up his end of that. I did remember reading something about that once, and had to stifle the fascination and curiosity begging me to ask which parts of the myths were real and which parts were pure fantasy. He didn't seem especially keen on discussing that subject at length, so I tried not to press. Of course, I was disappointed not to have an entire week of uninterrupted time with him, but I reminded myself that I hadn't expected it in the first place, and it wasn't his fault in any event. The fact that he also seemed extremely disappointed and, dare I say, pouty about the idea of being apart, was a sort of balm in the wound.

After our late lunch, I spent a couple of hours searching for prospective employers and mapped out a route to take the following day when I dropped off my résumés. I had thought to do some of that today, but Michael's unexpected arrival and the subsequent issues it caused had eaten up the time I'd set aside for it, and I didn't want to waste any more of the limited time I had with Loki. Once I had all of the paperwork and logistical nonsense handled, it was getting into the evening, and I knew we only had a few hours left together.

When I got up to put my computer away and took it to the office, I got a whiff of myself as I bent to store it in the drawer it was usually housed in. Work, fear, and sex had definitely left their mark on my body odor, and I felt the distinct urge to wash it all away. I straightened up and glanced at the door with my own salacious little grin.

"Oh, Loki," I called sweetly.

"Yes?" I could hear the hesitancy and mistrust in his voice and I couldn't help but giggle as I popped out of the doorway, and gave my most innocent, albeit unconvincing, pout.

----

Not that it had required any amount of convincing to get him there, but a scant few moments later, we were in my bathroom getting undressed. The shower in here was bigger than that of the guest bathroom, so it was the obvious choice. I watched him through the mirror as he climbed into it while I combed the tangles out of my hair, wondering if there would ever be a time that his body didn't take my breath away. The mirror had a perfect view of the large shower stall, but I turned to get a first person view. He was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all the way from the top of his silky red curls to his ridiculously long feet, and *everything in between was just as long. His lean, but muscular arms, his rippling pectorals and cut abdomen, his legs just about reached my waist and his… well, anyway. It was so easy to get lost staring at him, that it wasn't until he cleared his throat that I realized I'd been gawking. I guess I was taking too long, but he just stood there, waiting for me to look my fill with an indulgent, cocky grin and stared back at me, an amused and expectant expression in his eyes as he held his hand out for me to join him. His big, elegant hand, with its long, tapered fingers–there I went, drifting again. I blinked and shook my head to clear the lustful cobwebs, and took his outstretched hand to let him draw me into the muggy warmth of the shower, unable to ignore the heat in his gaze as he looked back at me.

To be fair, our bathing did start innocently enough. Of course he didn't let me wash myself, he took the liberty of washing and conditioning my hair, as gently and thoroughly as he had the last time, and washing my body far more thoroughly than he had the last time. Those big hands felt like heaven on my skin, smoothing over every inch of my body as he cleaned me. Then it was my turn to wash him, which was admittedly a little more challenging. He bent his head with a laugh so I could massage my shampoo into and then out of his curls under the water, and when I started combing the conditioner through them, he wrapped his arms around my waist and hummed with pleasure as he buried his face into my breasts. I nearly bowed backwards before I pushed him away with a breathless giggle so I could rinse the product out of his hair and off of his skin.

Though I kept telling myself to stop comparing Loki to Michael, I couldn't quite help it. Despite the playfulness, there was something so incredibly intimate about bathing one another like this, and the fact that Michael and I had never done it was still present in my mind no matter how much I'd tried to silence it. We'd shared this shower once, but it had been an entirely utilitarian endeavor; there were no hands smoothing soap into each other's skin, no heated eye contact or deliberate, sensual touches, no caring for one another. He was my husband for five years, and I'd shared more intimacy with Loki in less than a week than I had with Michael in our entire relationship. I'd thought it had something to do with me, that there was something about me that repelled him to the idea, that there was something inherently wrong about me. But, then I'd thought the same thing about every aspect of our relationship over the years, because it was what he'd led me to believe and I just… did.

"You're thinking about him again, aren't you?" Loki's voice shook me from my musings and I glanced up to see concern furrowing his brow and coloring his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I'm not trying to–"

"Don't apologize, my darling," he interrupted. "I'm only worried about where your thoughts will take you once I'm gone again." With that he laid his head against mine and my hands slipped from his freshly cleaned hair to hold the back of his neck as he carefully watched me.

"I was just thinking, I've been so much happier with you the last few days than I ever have been with him," I told him with a sigh. "I… I thought there was something wrong with me. My husband doesn't love me, he doesn't even like me," the confession stung, but it was true. He didn't like me, he didn't appreciate me, and he damn sure didn't respect me, "Not like you do."

"There is nothing wrong with you–"

"I know," I cut him off this time. "Or, at least I'm starting to," I qualified. This was going to be a long road, learning to love myself again. It certainly helped having someone like Loki there to love me until I could.

Loki's hands slipped around my waist and held me to his chest as he pressed an ardent kiss to my lips. I tightened my arms around his neck and as I rubbed my slick, naked body against his, I felt that other long thing hardening between us as a soft growl rumbled from his throat. It was a difficult task, but I pulled away from his mouth, turning my head when he tried to chase me for another kiss, and grabbed the bottle of men's body wash I found in the cabinet. I didn't know what an ergi was, but it sounded bad and had everything to do with smelling like a girl, and I didn't want him to have to go home and wash all over again. He started to protest until I assured him that it was a product Michael had never used. I'd picked it out for him because I liked it, but he said it smelled like something from a dumpster. Loki gave it a tentative test sniff before letting me pour it into my hands to begin washing him, keeping his eyes firmly locked on me all the while.

Naturally, I started with his neck and shoulders, rubbing in gentle circles to clean his skin and then using more pressure to massage the hard muscles underneath. His eyes slipped closed for a moment and he sighed, relaxing under my touch and it gave me the idea to do this again more thoroughly later, when we had more time. After I'd worked the tension out of his neck and shoulders, I used washing his back as an excuse to keep my front pressed against his, not that he was fooled by the ruse, but he let me run my hands across the expanse of his muscled back with a smirk on his face. I smoothed more circles over his shoulder blades and ran my fingers down his spine while my chest made an attempt at doing the same to his stomach. His lower back got the same treatment and I pressed fluttering kisses to his chest, catching water drops before they had the chance to beat me to my prize, and slid my hands further down, using washing as an excuse to grope his beautifully firm, round backside and pull him hard against me in the process. Every inch of him was utterly perfect, and his ass was no exception. He laughed, even as I felt the hard length of him twitch between us, and I knew he was enjoying this as much as I was.

But, I'd used up all of the soap in my hands, and had to pull myself away to get more before picking up where I'd left off. I smoothed over his trim hips, running my fingers along the Adonis belt cutting under his firm stomach, up his sides and down his arms, squeezing the muscles there before working my way back to his chest. Oh, his glorious chest, so lean but so strong. I watched as my hands moved across it, my fingers raised over every plane and danced over his hard pebbled nipples. I pinched them cheekily and he warned me to watch it, but the tremor in his voice said he was either amused or aroused by it, but I was so ensnared by what I was doing that I didn't quite care either way. The ridges of his stomach clenched under my hands and I felt the first real surge of arousal hit my core, but delayed gratification was the name of the game I was playing. I dipped into his belly button and slid lower, using my nails to scrub at the hairs dusting his stomach toward his groin, reveling in the deep intake of breath that expanded that delicious chest of his. When my hands moved even lower still, he knocked my chin up and surely my emotions must have been displayed on my face, because that grin was back in full force as he brought our lips together in an open mouthed kiss that would have left me weak in the knees had I not been so focused on my task.

Further down my hands slid, until I had his hard cock in my soapy hands. He groaned into my mouth and deepened the kiss, tangling his fingers into my wet hair, trying to wrest control from me. But, I imagine it must have been difficult to do that when I was stroking and squeezing him just the way he liked. I let him thrust his tongue into my mouth to match the thrusting of his hips against my hand and used my other to gently fondle, or rather wash his balls. This was a dangerous game to be playing with him, because if he wasn't in the mood to be teased, he would just lift me up, pin me to the wall and fuck me silly. While that would be gratifying, I hoped he didn't, because I had plans, and a previously prematurely terminated shower to make up for. The groan turned into a growl when I pulled my hands away from pleasuring him, but stopped when I began to sink to my knees, dropping kisses and kitten licks all the way down his stomach. I could feel every heavy breath under my lips as I inched my way along, and the fall of water from the shower head beating against my back, then my neck and head, then his stomach, effectively rinsing the soap away from all of my hard work.

When I finally knelt before him, I glanced up to find his intense green eyes watching me. His jaw was clenched, his nostrils flared as he waited for me to do what we both wanted me to, but, delayed gratification. Rather than resume my manual manipulation of his manhood, I instead began washing his thighs. They were another, lesser noticed but equally delectable part of his body. Thicker than one would expect for someone so tall but just as hard as the rest of him, with light hair dusting the length of them. After smoothing up from his knees, I clawed my fingers and gently scratched down the front of his thigh, enjoying the huff he let out above me. The cock bouncing with every heartbeat in my face was enough to tell me he enjoyed the sensation of my nails on his skin. I looked back up at him as I slid up the back of legs, using the motion to pull myself just a little closer, nuzzling into his naked groin. My lips brushed against the sensitive skin and I darted my tongue out to lick along the seam. Loki moaned breathlessly above me, in pleasure and relief that my teasing had come to an end. It was time, I supposed, because even I was getting impatient to feel him in my mouth again.

I started slowly, licking his balls, gently, carefully running my tongue across the skin like I was savoring a contractionary treat, catching the water droplets on my tongue before taking one of the best orbs between my lips. Still yet to touch him with anything but my face, I kept my hands planted high on his legs, just under that perfect ass and I could feel the muscles clenching under them. Since I wasn't touching it, Loki gripped his shaft in one hand, stroking and holding it out of my way as I worked him from below. I alternated from right to left, then right again over and over, sucking and suckling, until he was practically squirming, panting and, I was pretty sure, close to begging. Only then did I lift my gaze to his and drag my tongue flat up the length of him, over his straining fingers, savoring every vein and every velvety inch from the base to the livid, luscious head of his cock. I took it into my mouth with my eyes locked on his face, unsure if he was flushed from the heat in the bathroom or from my oral activity, but his parted lips, furrowed brow, labored breathing, and the beseeching look in his own eyes could only be from me. There went another rush of arousal, and I knew without touching myself that I was wet from more than just water as I clenched my thighs to relieve the ache that had formed between them.

Panting and squeezing himself in an iron grip, Loki slowly stroked while I sucked on just the tip of his cock, as if he were feeding it to me while I swirled my tongue over the head, tasting the skin and essence leaking from the slit. I couldn't help the hum of satisfaction that escaped me as it spread over my taste buds. It made him gasp and drop his head back, overwhelmed for a heartbeat before he grit his teeth and drew a deep breath through his nose. He looked back down at me, begging, daring me to take more. A little at a time, I did, sealing my lips around him and tracing the ridge where the helm met the shaft with my tongue before drawing back to the tip, and then down again. Steadily, he stroked himself as I took just a little more with each pass, taking him deeper until his hand had to stop moving and, eventually, release his grip entirely as my mouth took up the space his hand had been occupying.

Gone were the gasps and breathless little noises, now he was fully groaning as he threaded his fingers into my hair again while I took him into my throat, the sounds bouncing back from the tile to echo around the bathroom. I moaned around him, sliding my hands up to grip the globes of his backside, squeezing and pulling him into me, wordlessly asking for more. Curses came out gritty and muttered when he obliged me, slowly and deliberately pushing deeper into my throat, the wet sounds of his cock sliding in and out mixed with his voice, filling the room with lewd noises that would otherwise make me blush. As it was, I only soaked my thighs even more and slid my hand between my legs to ease the pressure. He really liked seeing that. His hold on my hair got tighter as his thrusts got harder. I would definitely be feeling this tomorrow, but I knew it would be worth it.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you look like this," he groaned, his voice raspy and breathless. I hummed on him, drawing away just enough to suck and stroke him with my hands, staring into his eyes and torn between wanting him to fuck me against the wall and wanting him to come in my mouth so I could finally taste it.

Evidently, he was through being teased and ready to make that decision for me, because he used his grip on my head to carefully pull me off of him. His cock slipped out of my mouth with a soft pop, and the sight of him, throbbing, livid, leaping with every thunderous beat of his heart was almost as gratifying as the orgasm I wanted to induce. He lifted me to my feet and dropped himself to one knee, trading places with me. My legs were over his shoulders and my back was pressed to the frigid tile before I could object. I scrambled for something to hold on to as he pressed his face between my thighs.

"You're so wet for me already," his growl of delight vibrated through me. "Do you truly enjoy the taste of my cock this much?" He licked a stripe up my center and closed his eyes with a moan of satisfaction. "Oh, but you must."

With that he latched his mouth on to me, even as he pinned me with a scorching stare. On the outside, it didn't look like he was doing much, but inside. I gasped with a sharp moan, still trying to find something to hold as his tongue flicked up and down over my clit, drawing on my lips with gentle suction before sliding his tongue down in between them. He wouldn't let me fall, so I took hold of the only thing within reach; while he held me up with his big hands under my bottom and my knees over his shoulders, I locked my legs in place and grabbed the back of his head. My hips rolled as I rode his mouth, instinctively seeking more–more contact, more movement, more pressure. I was already so close from arousal alone, but he wouldn't let me come that easily, not after what I'd done to him just now. As I sought more, he drew back, just enough to not let me have it, and went from using that dexterous tongue to slurping on my cunt like he was trying to suck the filling out. Only when I stopped arching into him did he resume his licking, furiously rubbing the rough part of his tongue up between my inner lips, over my clit and back, sucking and licking until I was panting and mindlessly begging.

He let my knees slide down to his elbows as he stood up, sliding me up the wall and planting his hands on either side of me and grinding his rigid cock against my soaked and trembling slit. There was no move to enter yet, only hard thrusts against me, trailing his lips along my neck. I arched into him again, desperately needy, and pulled his face back to me with a whine.

"You want it so badly, don't you, little dove," he panted. "You would do anything for it, wouldn't you." All I could manage was a helpless, frantic nod that made him chuckle darkly against my mouth. "Tell me, my love, were you ever this eager for him?" I shook my head then, the very thought was laughable, if I could feel anything close to amusement when I was so filled with lust, which wasn't helped by the deep, rough quality of Loki's voice. "Did you ever take his cock into your throat like that?" I shook my head, ready to be done with that vein of discourse. Though I had been thinking of him earlier, I really didn't want to be thinking about Michael at that moment, because I was afraid it would bring the mood down. It appeared as though it was having a different effect–that, or it was the idea that Loki had gotten something my husband never did. "Why not," he demanded.

"B-because, he couldn't reach," I answered breathlessly. It seemed to take Loki's lust muddled brain a second to process what I'd said, and then he laughed.

"Oh, no, that poor man," his voice strained with a mix of mirth and arousal. He shook his head and nuzzled his face against mine, teasing a kiss just out of reach. "The smartest thing he ever did was marry you. What a shame it was the last," he lamented with a smirk.

"Yeah, poor Michael," I huffed impatiently, but my frustration only amused him more. He continued to rock his hips into me and then finally relented, pushing past my lips, filling me to the hilt in one thrust and my body jerked up with a cry. My fingers clenched around the back of his neck and briefly worried I'd hurt him when he hissed, but the concern was lost as I throbbed around him. He felt so much bigger like this, gravity and my compressed position had him deeper than he'd been yet. It almost hurt, but I relished the fullness, the stretch and burn of him so far inside of me. While I took a moment to adjust, he nipped at my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip and gently tugging on it with his teeth before sealing lips together in a messy kiss. I pulled on his hair, canting my hips to him and urging him without words to move. And move he did. He fucked up into me, slowly at first, just to make sure I was really ready, and then faster until the only sounds were our grunts of pained pleasure, the rush of the water, the slap of wet skin, and the occasional squeak of my back on the slick tile.

Over his shoulder, I could just see the mirror, and us, reflected in its partially fogged surface. His muscular back and shoulders flexed and rippled under pale skin as he held me up, his full, taut backside clenching as his hips rolled and swiveled. The sight of him fucking me from that angle, with my legs spread over his arms, was possibly the most erotic thing I'd ever seen.

"Look at us," he rasped suddenly, hoarse and breathless, and I tore my gaze off of our reflection with the hysterical thought that he was in my mind just as deeply as he was in my body. But he wasn't looking at me–at least, not my face. His eyes were cast down, where our bodies joined, and I followed his gaze to watch almost distantly as the thick column of his cock disappeared, thrusting in until it was entirely gone and drawing back coated with an opaque mixture of our fluids. In and out, over and again. I whimpered at the sight. "Look at how you take me," he urged, and I felt his stare on me as he watched me watch us, but I was fixated.

Forget the mirror, this was the most erotic thing I'd ever seen, and it was pushing me past that tipping point. My whole body was tingling and vibrating, I could feel the climax like an oncoming storm, tightening until I was ready to snap. The pace picked up until we were in a frenzy, he rutted into me, grunting and groaning as he fucked me with abandon and my hips rolled to meet every stroke, desperate to come and feel him come inside of me. It was that thought, the one of him filling my sopping cunt with his come and fucking it deep into my womb, that sent me soaring. With a keening cry, I exploded, my pussy clenching, milking, gushing as I came, vaguely aware of his stuttering hips and knew he had to be coming, too. My body convulsed violently, clinging to him and riding the orgasmic wave until it ebbed and I was left a gasping heap in his arms. He slumped against my chest, panting raggedly as he pressed kisses along my shoulder. After a moment of catching his breath, he carefully slipped out of me and lowered my legs to the tiled floor and held me there as the feeling slowly began to come back to them. Steam and exertion had me overheated and struggling to breathe, and when he did begin to pull away I nearly collapsed.

Unable to stand on my own, I held onto him for dear life. I could practically feel the smugness radiating off of him, but I was too satisfied to be annoyed and I supposed he had every right to be smug, because he'd absolutely wrecked me. If teasing was a game, he was an infinitely better player than I was, but with what I ultimately got out of it, it was a win-win no matter which way it went. However, ever observant and attentive to me, after catching his breath, he gently cleaned us both and turned off the taps before wrapping me up in one of the thick, fluffy towels and seeing to himself. He picked me up, set me on the counter and used a smaller towel to wring water from my hair, watching me with a small smile when I returned the favor. When we were dry enough, he carried me to the bed and set me in the middle, tossing both of our towels away before climbing in and wrapping himself around me instead. I'd worry about wet towels on the floor later, for now I was just happy to be held by him.

It didn't take long to warm up the bed, and once that was done, Loki propped his head up on one hand while the other trailed gentle caresses over my cheek, along my arm and back, staring at me with an expression I couldn't name.

"You okay?" I whispered, and he looked into my eyes with another of those pleased little smiles and hummed in affirmation.

"I make you happy," he replied softly, averting his gaze almost bashfully.

"You do," I told him quietly, and he brought his eyes back to mine. It seemed like he was almost afraid to believe me. "You're not used to that, are you?"

He tried for a dismissive shrug, but I knew him too well now to take that at face value. Whether he confirmed my suspicion or not, it tracked with what I knew already, both of his behavior from being with him and what stories had survived into the modern record. Even if only some of them were true, the character "Loki" was not known as someone to bring happiness; the ancient pagans would do things to ward against him, lest he bring mischief and misery to their lives. I couldn't even imagine him doing that, and my heart broke at the thought that all the other gods received prayers and offerings, while he was seen as something to need protection from.

"To be honest, a few days ago I didn't think we'd ever be… here," he said softly, shaking me from my thoughts and gesturing to our bodies, entwined in my bed. I cocked my head and looked at him.

"Really? Why not? I thought this was what you wanted."

"It was, it is," he replied. "But… I only came that first night to–I don't know–just be here? To be in the same place, even if it was only for a moment, to breathe the same air, and see where you made your home," he sighed. "I'd convinced myself that I must have misunderstood, or exaggerated your unhappiness, maybe even fabricated it to make me feel less…"

"Alone?" I supplied, and he nodded as he looked at me.

"I only meant to be here for a moment, I was going to leave before you woke up."

"Then… why didn't you?"

"The photographs," he answered, staring off over my shoulder as he recalled that first night. "I saw the portrait from your wedding first, and that actually hurt. You were so devastatingly beautiful, like a princess in that fluffy white gown, and you looked so incandescent with him. In the next one, you looked less so, but that was to be expected–I assumed, every day can't be your wedding day, can it–but you still seemed happy. Then, with every picture after that, it was as if I could actually see the light fading from your eyes. In the most recent one, you weren't even trying to smile. That was when I let you find me." He looked back to me then, his eyes roving over my face as he stroked a finger along my cheek again. "You looked just like I'd dreamed you would. A doe-eyed fantasy. And when I kissed you," he paused to take a deep breath, savoring the memory. "I knew you needed me as badly as I needed you, and no husband was going to stand in the way of loving you and bringing that happiness back to your eyes. And, in the process, you gave me mine. I will be grateful for that for the rest of my life."

With that, he pressed his head against mine and closed his eyes. I felt my heart clench in my chest as I swallowed the emotions threatening to spill out of me. Something about this gesture, though I did very much enjoy his kisses, seemed so much more intimate and affectionate, and the clenching in my chest turned into a swelling. I held his face in my hands, my fingers winding into the curls along his neck and sharp jaw as he brought his arms back around me. I thought about our first night together, about how intense the feelings were, and about how we'd been in almost this same position when we expressed them. This time I spoke first.

"I love you, Loki," I whispered as I stroked his cheekbones with my thumbs, and it was his turn to swallow hard before answering me.

"I love you, too, Moira." He kissed me then, not a madly passionate clashing of lips and tongues and teeth, but the gentle press of his mouth against mine, and though we moved against each other, it wasn't charged or intentional. It simply was. We parted with a brief nuzzle, then he kissed my nose and my forehead before tucking me under his chin and holding me tight against his chest.

Something had shifted in our relationship today, and I wasn't entirely sure exactly when it happened, or if it had been a gradual change and this was just the final piece falling into place. While sex was still very much an interest (not to mention immensely satisfying) fulfilling physical needs wasn't what our relationship was about anymore. Had it ever really been about just that, or had we been edging closer all the while, and it wasn't until he'd opened up that I realized it?

In any event, I felt a renewed sense of confidence and purpose. I could tackle finding a job tomorrow, I would because Loki loved me and believed in me enough that it made me finally start to believe in myself. With his warmth surrounding me and his hands smoothing over my skin, I felt the drowsiness start to sink in. Just as I was beginning to get suspicious that he had something to do with how quickly I fell asleep with him, I dropped off into the world of dreams and never felt him leave.

----

skáld: Old Norse, noun, a poet (skáldic poetry is a very specific style of poetry, but I'm chalking this up to a confusion in the translation. While Loki does have a pretty good grasp of modern language and vernacular, language is a funny thing and there are bound to be similar but different concepts that just aren't important enough in context for him to think that hard about)

ergi: Old Norse, noun, one who does not behave in a manner befitting their gender, or complying with certain gender roles (apparently, that was a pretty big deal to the ancient pagans, and by extension their gods. Sort of the Old Norse equivalent of "them's fightin' words," being accused of argr [the adjective form of the word] behavior was something you had every right to avenge with your accuser's death.)

You can find Chapter 7 here: https://at.tumblr.com/constablewafflebottom/dream-a-little-dream-of-me/cyhgo8s4522m

And Chapter 5 here:

https://at.tumblr.com/constablewafflebottom/dream-a-little-dream-of-me/vxql24comkc3

And the Master List here: https://at.tumblr.com/constablewafflebottom/master-list/wmmq0h7adu6s

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