#tumblr wouldn't let me post everything individually

[trustfratedjin]

BANGTAN OT7 FIC RECS VOL. 1

Aight, here we go

Keep in mind that the 18+ warning does NOT only apply to smut, so please read the individual warnings on EVERY fic, thank yeowww :)

OT7

Idol!AU

Little Do You Know by @yoongiofmine Complete 18+

Relax, It’s Our Honeymoon! by @birchandspruce Complete 18+

You Complete Us by birchandspruce Complete

wild, wild, wilderness by @kimnjss Complete 18+

home sweet castle by kimnjss Complete 18+

The Plot Twist ft Soulmate!AU by @blog-name-idk Ongoing 18+

The Line Between Love And War ft Soulmate!AU by @purpleyoonn Ongoing

baby (you complete us) ft Soulmate!AU by purpleyoonn Ongoing 18+

Unorthodox by @beahae Ongoing 18+

The curious move-in to apartment 27 by @sor-vette Ongoing 18+

Got the music in you baby by @minniedaisies One Shot

Love Starved by @hollyhomburg One Shot 18+

The Sex Strike by @borathae One Shot 18+

Soulmate!AU

The Book of Soulmates by @alpacaparkaseok Complete

Moonchild by @jeonggukkiepabo Ongoing? idk hehe 18+

Mafia!AU

Between The Bloodshed by @agustdakasuga Complete 18+

Ethereal ft Fantasy!AU by purpleyoonn Complete 18+

Ride With you by @jellifysh Ongoing 18+

The Way Of A Criminal by agustdakasuga Ongoing 18+

Thou Shall Not Steal by @xherxx Ongoing 18+

A/B/O!AU

House of the Omegaverse ft Dark!AU by @sopejinsunflower Complete 18+

Lone Wolf by @sopebubbles Ongoing 18+

Before I leave you ft Dark!AU by @hollyhomburg (READ THE TW FOR REAL) Ongoing 18+

Royal!AU / Historical!AU

The Return of an Empress by @you-are-my-joy Complete 18+

Fall of Empire by @aloneatpeace Ongoing 18+

Hybrid!AU

Abundance by @angelicyoongie Ongoing 18+

100% sure i've read more but i can't remember any of em rn lol

Dark!AU

Death Valley by @bangtangalicious Complete 18+

College!AU

Everything Falls (Into Place) by blog-name-idk Complete 18+

Thesis It by xherxx Complete 18+

The Apartment Games by @softiejoon Maybe discontinued but here for the aesthetics

Kings of Campus by @luxekook Ongoing 18+

Journey to the dick by @whatifyoulivelikethat One Shot 18+

Sharing is Caring by @theharrowing One Shot 18+

Fantasy!AU

Recrudescence ft Idol!AU by @chimchimsauce Complete 18+

To have, to hold, to make you stay by sor-vette Complete 18+

Other

All the Kinks ft Multifandom, Multi!AU’s by @helvonasche Complete 18+

Getting Back Into The Swing Of Things by jellifysh Complete 18+

Boyfriend for Hire by @remedyx Ongoing 18+

Audios by @youmyjhope 18+

Sh. by @wwilloww Ongoing? idk hehe 18+

NOT OT7

Idol!AU

Need by @bang-tan-bitches ft KNJ, JHS and MYG ft A/B/O!AU Complete 18+

The bias room by @chimivx ft MYG, KTH and JJK One Shot

Desperate by borathae ft PJM, KTH and JJK One Shot 18+

Floored by @lavienjin ft JHS, PJM, JJK One Shot 18+

College!AU

Stretch You Out by @chateautae ft KNJ and JJK One Shot 18+

Fantasy!AU

bitten & knotted by @jamaisjoons ft JHS and KNJ One Shot 18+

Other

Magic Hands by @breadoffoxy ft PJM and KTH Complete 18+

Fucking Around by @tanniefm ft PJM, KTH and JJK One Shot 18+

The Art Of Self Restraint by @scribblemetae ft PJM, KTH and JJK One Shot 18+

The Sope Surprise by @chelsea-chee ft JHS and MYG One Shot 18+

The D Box by breadoffoxy ft KSJ, MYG and JJK One Shot 18+

Swiss Miss by @here4kpopfics ft KNJ and KSJ One Shot 18+

Bigger & Better by lavienjin ft KNJ and KTH One Shot 18+

Package Deal by @hoseokhasmyheartxx ft JHS and MYG One Shot 18+

Rain On Me by @dawnagustd ft KTH and JJK One Shot 18+

When i tell you my hand is cramped from all the clicking and my eyes are blurry for staring at the screen for 8+ hours...

AND THIS IS HOW WE CONCLUDE 1/9 REC POSTS WUUUU

Stay tuned because I still have to post the recs from each member and one final giving a massive shoutout to all my favorite BTS fic authors of all time (including everyone here and many more hehe)

You'll notice that some authors weren't properly tagged, that's cause tumblr wouldn't let me tag more than 50 users, so I made sure to tag the writers AT LEAST ONE TIME in case there were more than one of their works mentioned here :)

Btw, if any of the links don't work or there is a mistake or anything, please let me know so I can fix it :)

BANGTAN'S HYUNG LINE FIC RECS VOL. 1

BANGTAN'S MAKNAE LINE FIC RECS VOL. 1

[riririnnnn]

Alright, I'm here to speak for my husband.

I'm new in Tumblr, so I don't exactly know what people think about Noa here, but as far as I have seen in other places, people generally say that he is the worst coach in NEL.

WHICH IS NOT TRUE AT ALL!

*screeches and rips out your wig*

Firstly, no coaches forced/pressurised anyone to choose their teams. It was one's own wish to go wherever the heck they want. Further, Ego explained everything about each stratum individually, so one knew what he was going in for.

So in no particular order, let's start.

1. Lavinho

Bro

BRO

You are telling me that this:

Is a better coach than Noa?

I agree that the whole speech by Lavi was actually fantastic, and further when Bachira told him about his Monster, not so surprisingly, Lavi told him exactly what he needed to hear because dun dun dun! Who chose FC Barcha?

YAS!

Bachira did, so obviously, it was the best for him and he improved.

Schizophrenia meets paranoia.

I mean, if he were to go in Ubers, Snuffy would've destroyed his 'originality'; if he were to go in PxG, he would've been outshined and pushed into being a midfielder, and in BM, he would've been depressed tbh. Manshine City is the only one which I think he could've improved physically.

All in all, my main focus about Lavi in this post is this panel:

Like, Lavi.

NO!

Guess who called him out for it?

Yes:

JUST LOOK AT WHAT HE SAID!

THAT'S MY HUSBAND Y'ALL!

I can't add more than 10/10 pictures per post, so I'm not adding it here:

In that same chapter (163) of the above panel, he calls out for Kunigami for the goals he missed, and then later (165) he asks him, "Now that you have seen it live, you think you can copy those movements?" If we consider his stoic personality, then it's his way of teaching.

Further, in chapter 164, when Lavi and Noa were going 1V1, and Isagi decided to jump in to steal the ball, Lavi used the blueberry boy as a way to get past Noa. Of course, Lavi was like, "Oh? Weaklings are just noise." LIKE HONEY STOP HE IS JUST A HIGH SCHOOL-ER!?

But yeah, Noa didn't chase Lavi further, and instead stopped to catch falling Isagi and explained him about the playstyle of Lavi.

BRO WHAT YOU WANT MORE!? HE IS NOT A BAD COACH!

2. Chris Prince

It's surprising, but his speech was hella good during the introduction.

And I don't mind that he strips and endorses stuffs. Like, do what you gotta do to get the bread in this economy. Besides, if I were a man and had a body like his, I'll be showing off too.

What, obviously, I'm going to show is this:

Like, the scores were 2-2, it was a PEAK moment, and he jumps in to take the spotlight?

Noa rightfully calls him out for it:

"This isn't your stage, Chris. Back off."

LOUDER FOR THE HATERS!

And you are telling me that Noa is a bad coach, huh?

Chris literally provoked Kaiser, made a near fool out off Yukimiya, and then started a beef with Isagi.

ACT YOUR AGE, CHRIS!

It's like someone throws me and you between Kindergartens, and then I start to write in beautiful cursive to prove that I'm so better than you.

3. Marc Snuffy

It's hypocritical, but the thing I called out Lavinho for, is the same reason why I wouldn't have gone to Ubers if I were a Blue Lock-er: telling the players what to do.

Starting from the start, we can see that Snuffy is one hell of a strategist, and was able to impress everyone.

However, it's been so long since NEL started that we have nearly forgotten that Blue Lock was made for strikers, and everyone selected were the forwards of their team. Like, fym Barou is the best suited to be a striker. Personally, I wouldn't have let it slide and would've started swinging fists.

Also, why are you trauma dumping into a 18 year old you met a few moments ago, just because he refused to play by your sayings.

Imagine someone tells you a story, and you go like, "Why are you telling me some loser's story?" And that someone replies, "Oh, actually, that was my best friend and he killed himself."

Are you getting me?

Further, I think Ubers got the better end of stick because:

Barou Shoei. No explanation needed.

Aryu Jyubei. He was literally the Top 3 during the second selection.

Niko Ikki. Bro is only 15 and hasn't even played for that long and was able to defend against Shidou and has meta vision.

Aiku Oliver. No explanation needed.

Sendou Shuto. Bro was literally the ace of (ex) U-20 team.

Don Lorenzo. Bro stopped Kaiser's impact

At this point, I'm getting my own emotions involved, but I didn't like how he just assigned everyone into positions. It felt like he molded them according to his own wants/needs that is, to win. I mean, he used data of the players to come up with a plan, right? Then why people think Noa is too reliant on numbers?

I'm not saying that Snuffy is a bad coach. Whatever he did, it turned out to work for the best. In fact, kudos for him to help Barou score by pushing Noa aside:

He is a good man and a good coach. Please don't think I hate Ubers.

4. Julian Loki

We haven't seen much of him, but if Shidou and Rin are in close quarters without trying to bust open eachother's skulls, then I think Loki is good at whatever he is cooking. Further, the fact that he is only 17, makes everything very impressive.

I know that we have already gotten a chapter focused on PxG, but it's not sufficient to precisely say how things got to be the way they are currently.

Also, ngl, I do think that PxG got the better end of the stick too:

Itoshi Rin. No explanation needed.

Shidou Ryusei. No explanation needed.

Tokimitsu Aoshi. He was literally Top 3 during the second selection. Like, even Barou couldn't defend against him (at that time).

Karasu Tabito. Bro is smart.

Tsurugi Zantetsu. Bro is speed.

Charles Chevalier. HE IS 15 AND ALREADY A PLAYMAKER.

Nanase Nijiro. Can't say much, but I think he is good.

The only problems are:

Itoshi Rin

Shidou Ryusei

Lol

.................................

To sum it up, Noa isn't a bad coach.

I do think it was a bit not-so considerate of him to just throw them into those physical tests because THEY ARE JAPANESE, NOA!? THEY CAN'T UNDERSTAND YOU!? If I were to be there, I would've been so lost like, Man, what you even want me to do?

Well, like I said earlier, everyone who chose the Germany stratum knew what they were getting into. Besides, Noa had made it crystal clear from the very start that if you want to play as regulars, prove it through your performance— what more do you want him to do!? Die or something?

Secondly, when Isagi came to his office/workspace whatever that is to ask for advice. He did give him one, in his own way. It was same like Lavi did to Bachi, and Chris did to Nagi, but each of them gave advices that reflected their own personalities.

Also, considering the environment in which he grew, one could expect him to be money hungry you know, yet, he was against of letting Isagi play in the match just because the sponsors wanted, and denied it till he forcefully agreed to let him play in, at least, one match. Even when he was subbing in him, he bluntly said, "It's fan service." This post isn't about Isagi, otherwise I would've mentioned how he proved his worth and THAT'S why Noa continued to let him play.

Further, I don't understand why people forget that in every match, Noa has explained stuffs to Isagi. For example:

Us Readers, take this as a narration about a character, and forget that in the BLLK universe, Isagi is the listener.

I don't think so that just because someone has an experience of doing something for long period of time, it also mean that they are capable of teaching others the same— Noa, I think, is doing his best; he literally, though for like a minute, let go of his striker position and did what was necessary for Isagi to score (chapter 201).

Just because Noa-Isagi interactions are highlighted more, doesn't mean Noa hasn't helped others too— he was watching over Kiyora and Igaguri practice, remember? Isagi is the protagonist after all, it makes sense for him to have the most spotlight.

To be completely honest, in the end, there is no definitive way of comparing all the coaches, it just boils down to what playstyle you have.

That's it, I guess.

.

.

.

Noa seems like someone who takes the meaning in the literal sense, like, someone be like, "He is such a Daddy material!" And he'd reply with a straight face, "I don't plan to have kids any time soon, but I appreciate that you think I'm worthy to be a Father." I just know he is dense.

[hangmanssunnies]

Good Comes In 3

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary:  You and Jake navigate what it means to spend six months apart. Then, when he does come home, you two have to evaluate precisely what feelings you have for each other and also what a future together could mean. You just aren't sure he will ever forgive you for starting a puzzle without him. 

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 34K

AO3 Link

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Abuse (Implied), Slow burn, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, Rejection, Drinking, Arguments, Yearning, Deployment, communication, Fertility problems, miscarriage (discussed), menstruation (discussed and lightly described), close female friendships, Depressive episodes, PTSD, roommates to lovers, love confessions, hyper-specific!Jake, Neurodivergent coded! Jake. Please let me know if I missed any for this part; I know it is a long one.

An: Unfortunately, this last part was too long to post altogether here on Tumblr. So I have included the first half here, the rest can be read on AO3 though. My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well. I apologize for the inconvenience.

Thank you for taking this journey with me. Thank you all for loving this version of Jake. There were so many things I wanted to include and finish off for these two. While I couldn't include everything, I hope you enjoy what I did.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

"Jake looked tired. Has he told you how he's been sleeping?" Marlee asks you curiously while chatting with you on the phone. The question causes your stomach to roll in a deep dive, and it takes you a moment to find the composure to respond. 

"No, I haven't heard," you manage to tell her. Setting down the piece of fruit you had been about to eat, you lean back against the kitchen counter. 

"Ah, well, will you ask him about it whenever you next talk? He wouldn't answer Javy or me about it when we asked."

"You and Javy are joined at the hip, practically the same person sometimes. Do you find that shocking?" You ask Marlee teasingly. Marlee chuckles at your comment. Her smile betrays her true feelings, though she likes how in sync she and Javy are generally considered. 

"We are sometimes." Marlee concedes but then says frankly, "But even when Javy had his individual call with Jake, he wouldn't say. And you are the only other person I can imagine him opening up to," 

"I'll mention it next time I talk to him," you manage to say. It would just be one of the many things that you were supposed to be talking to Jake about on his deployment. It was easier to go along with their assumption than to flay your chest open and let the hurt you felt pour out. 

Sometimes it's better, easier, to keep the kind of pain you felt to yourself. Bundled close and protected. To expose it would just make it hurt all the more. The idea of anyone, especially your closest friends, knowing you weren't important enough, or you had scared Jake away, or made some other mishap was mortifying. How could you go about explaining what had transpired? You weren't sure you could explain it. Also, Javy and Marlee had plenty of other things and people to worry about without having to add you higher on their list than you were already placed. You felt bad each week when one of them called you to check in begging, sometimes demanding that you hang out with them. 

"Okay, I'll talk to you later then, babes. I love you!"

"I love you too, Marlee," you say, giving her the sweetest, kindest tone you can muster up. You end the call and walk over to the chalkboard in the kitchen. 

Jake normally would draw seasonal decorations on it, but you had cleared it to be blank for notes months ago. The only thing on the board is a list you had titled: things to talk to Jake about. You add 'sleeping habits' to the bottom and frown. Reading through the list makes tears prick at the back of your eyes, and a lump forms in your throat. You hold the eraser poised for a moment, ready to trash the entire list, but you don't manage to follow through and drop the eraser, letting it fall to the ground. 

You walk through the house, checking the locks and turning off the lights. The sadness and frustration you feel in you is still bubbling as you pass where Jake had unceremoniously left the large Juniper chest. You glare at it just like you do every night. 

The morning Jake left, he'd woken you up with his thumb tracing your pulse point. His soft mostly lidded eyes trained on you, neither of you said anything just laying there quietly memorizing the moment. Neither of you could bear to get up until after the third alarm rang. The sun still hadn't crested the horizon when Jake went to shower. While he was occupied you stole one of his large Navy shirts that had been washed so many times it was soft. You are reluctant to leave his room, but make your way to the kitchen starting some breakfast and Jake's morning tea. You were just adding the dollop of honey he likes when he came downstairs, fully dressed and ready to leave you. 

Jake thanked you sweetly, with a kiss pressed to your cheek. In the same breath he tried to steal the whisk out of your hand. You danced out of way holding the whisk out like a sword to ward him off. He had quickly grabbed the masher from the utensil jar and brandished it in response. Amusement filling his features. After a small chase around the kitchen which included a small clash of utensils, Jake got his way. You loved the way Jake's eyes crinkled and how charming his dimples and smile lines were. It was a look you almost always got anytime you let him do things for you. Jake had still let you help though, asking you to toast the sourdough bread, while he whipped the avocado, goat cheese, and honey together. Once it was the constituency he liked, Jake spread it on the toast sprinkling some sea salt on top. He made one for you as well, but you had already started cooking three eggs for him, and didn't really have an appetite. After Jake ate, you spent every minute waiting for Coyote to arrive for pick up wrapped tightly in Jake's arms.  

"There is one last thing I need before I go," Jake had said. 

"I can't give it to you this time," you said muffled, trying hard not to cry on his whites. 

"Just one smile." Jake pleaded with his large warm hand lifting your chin so he could stare at you intently again. 

"No, Jake." He frowned at your answer, eyebrows pulling tight together. 

"I suppose I've reached my limit on things I can take from you." Jake puffed out with a quiet sigh. The tip of Jake's nose had dragged softly across your forehead before pressing a soft kiss to the center. He lingered there, breathing you in.

"Thank you for everything, my sweet," Jake whispered quietly. 

Your breath hitched in your throat, and you tried to pull him as close and tight to you as possible again. Jake allowed you to hug him, but he didn't relax into the embrace like he normally would have. He was almost stiff in your hold, but one of his hands traced slowly over your back in a soothing motion. When Coyote's headlights had inevitably shown through the frosted window on the door, Jake carefully detangled himself from your arms. He lingered though practically trembling. 

"I can't do it," Jake whispered, leaving his forehead pressed to yours. 

"It's not optional, and there isn't anything Hangman can't do. Let alone something you've done before," you reassured him. It didn't seem to work as he tensed up more.

"Promise me you'll be okay," Jake had begged you. You had nodded yes in response, saying the word would have tasted too close to a lie. Jake's nose nudged yours and he asked again. The second time was much closer to a desperate demand, "promise me." 

"If you be safe," you had compromised, wanting to savor every second ticking by that you would never get back. This last time you would be in the same space sharing the same air, for an undetermined amount of time. With a resolve you knew you didn't possess, Jake mouthed the words goodbye he was so close that his lips brushed yours as he did so. With a shaky inhale, Jake stepped away from you. His first two steps hadn't hurt so much, but the third as he exited the front door took all the air with him, including the bit trapped in your lungs. It was a sense of instant emptiness you had never experienced before. Everything you wanted to do seemed impossible when you couldn't even breathe. So there was no running after him for one more stolen moment, no collapsing against the floor, sobbing until your throat was raw, no more reassuring green eyes you could look to for comfort. 

The hollow feeling that nestled into you was hard to find your balance with. You had thrown the lock on the door and stumbled through the house, ready to retreat back into Jake's bed. Well aware his scent would be gone sooner rather than later, you were determined to imprint as much of it to memory as possible. You are blindsided by pain shooting up your foot as you unexpectedly stubbed your toe. Cursing and looking down you realized there was now a new piece of furniture. Jake had left a hand made juniper chest Jake left sitting in the area between the living room and dining room. On top was a small note card with a watercolor of two very detailed puzzle pieces. 

You stare so hard at the water colored pieces trying to parse their meaning the focus of your visions started to blur. The rapid blink forced tears to lubricate the area. However, when there is one tear there are others quick to follow. Just as a tear had splashed against the edge of the card you recognized the duplicates of the last two pieces you and Jake had double tapped into your last puzzle. On the back of the card stock was the drawn design of the chest, with all of Jake's neat measurements noted. You traced over his neat handwriting, and you were quick to quell your disappointment not finding more. That confusion and disappointment was impossible to ignore when you had gone to see what was inside and it was locked, the latch refusing to open. 

Now, after 6 and ½ months of radio silence, the chest taunted you. His entire deployment, there hadn't been a single word to you. Your only source of information was occasionally hearing from Coyote and Marlee about how Hangman was doing. And there was the memory of him, a large empty house, and a locked chest that was too heavy for you to move. 

You kick the side of the chest as you walk past it. It has become a tradition for you – this small abuse of the furniture while pacing before bed was a small soothing habit that helped you work some of your worries out. Once the feeling of missing Jake had settled into a dull, steady pain there was room for anger. You were furious and the only thing you had to take it out on was this beautiful work of craftsmanship. Unshockingly, the chest had been well made – because why would Jake make something that was easy to take your anger out on. He couldn't even give you that small concession. Even though you aren't as angry anymore, kicking the chest has become a part of your nightly routine. 

The chest didn't just bother you because it was locked or a surprise gift you hadn't asked for. It also bothered you because of what it was made from. The juniper wood Jake used didn't match the boards he used for the puzzle table, which was a more common light juniper. The boards for the chest were such a deep red it looked purple. Jake made it from one of the logs that you had helped him strip. Seeing the chest felt like a reopening weeping sore; one bleeding from a formally treasured memory that was nestled close to your heart. 

…

Saturday mornings were always a wild card with Jake.It was the one day of the week you could never be 100% sure what his plans were. There were staples you could expect like his morning run, but after that who knew? Sometimes he would have plans to see his friends, other times he had a project, list of chores, plans with his "little brother", manuals to read or some other all day activity. He liked it to be all day. So Sometimes you liked to just lounge in the living room waiting to see what he was going to do before making any plans of your own. 

 "Hey, I'm going on a drive and run some errands. Anything you want me to pick up?" Jake says to you when he comes down the stairs one Saturday morning. 

"Oh, can I come with?"  

"Sure, if you want. It's going to be boring though," Jake warns you. 

"No, it won't," You protest, standing up and stretching. "I'd rather be with you. As long as you don't mind me tagging along?"

"Yeah, of course, sugar. I never mind when you tag along." Jake says with a wide smile. 

"Well, what's the errand so I know how to dress?"

"I'm going to meet an old friend." 

"Oh my god. Please be less ominous Jake"

"What would you like to hear, sugar?"

"Who exactly are we meeting?"

"We are meeting up with my friend, Jess." 

"And?"  

"And, and, and," Jake says, twirling his hand around the air before dramatically pointing to his watch. "We are already 4 minutes behind our schedule. I'll tell you right now that this is cutting into our farmers market time." "Farmer's Market is on the list?" 

"Of course it is sugar. And so is Target," Jake says in his ‘duh-voice’ that you actually hate, but also you love because it reminds you how easy this is supposed to be. How it's not supposed to be a second thought. The things you like are included and planned for without you having to ask.

You are scrambling up the stairs to get ready when Jake calls after you. "You don't actually have to rush!! I'll make up time on the road."

"You know I don't support your excessive speeding Jake!" you call back, grabbing what you thought you would need. 

"Bring socks for your heavy boots!" When you make it back downstairs Jake is tapping his pen aggressively against a notepad. 

"What am I going to need boots for?" You ask him suspiciously while going through your items. 

"Do you want car snacks? I packed some, and we can always stop to pick something else up." Jake asks you glancing up from his paper. 

"We don't have to have snacks; I know you don't like eating in the truck." 

Jake just shrugs and opens the door to the garage for you. "It's not a big deal, I'll add the car wash to my list for tomorrow." 

"I also got your truck slippers so you don't have to wear your boots for the drive," Jake tells you. It's so sweet you want to grab him in a tight hug. You squeeze your hands tight instead, waiting for the urge to pass. Jake helps you up into the passenger side of the truck. Just as he said, the soft fuzzy blanket you like, and the slippers Jake got you are laid out waiting. Jake helps you out of your boots and into the slippers, setting them in the back seat for later. Once you are fully settled and buckled, Jake closes your door. He checks that the garage door is locked before jumping in the truck himself. 

"Was I quick enough for you not to aggressively speed?" you ask when Jake gets into the driver's side and checks his mirrors. 

"I would hardly call it speeding," Jake complains. 

"It's a number above the speed limit sign. Therefore, it's speeding." You say, explaining it.  

"I literally fly ten times as fast as car speeds. Well, more like 9.9 but still when you round up. It's ten." Jake responds, 

"That is no excuse to be going 120 miles an hour, Jake." You say while rolling your eyes. 

"I'm just saying. I am perfectly capable of controlling a fast vehicle," he argues. 

"That's fine, and I am not invalidating that. However, you know just as well as I do, that everyone else doesn't have that same ability."

"You are so sassy!" Jake teases, clearly deciding to let the faux argument go. 

"I'm the sassy one? Sure," you say sarcastically, drawing out the word. However, you also decide to let it go. Instead you enjoy the start to your drive, getting music going and adjusting the temperature controls until they are just right. 

"So," you say after a bit, drawing out the word. "What are we driving to do?"

"It's nothing," Jake responds with a shrug. 

"Really? Nothing is the justification to wear the work boots you got me?"

"You can't live with a bit of mystery, can you?" Jake asks, but there is affection laid into his words. 

"No," You concede with a joking sigh, "which is what makes you so infuriating sometimes."  

"I do strive to live as a man of mystery," Jake says amused.  

"Oh really, is that what your next move is? Retire, so you can become an American James Bond?" You tease him. 

"I'll admit it. You got me figured out. What gave it away?" Jake asks jokingly but not as quiet as bright as before. You shoot him a look, but his smile is still firmly in place. 

"Honestly?" You ask him hesitantly. 

"Yes Ma'am. They do say honesty is the best policy."  

"It's the fact that you refuse to grow facial hair. I'm convinced that it's because you want to save that for a disguise." You say, almost giggling trying to picture Jake with a beard or mustache. You expect Jake to laugh too, but he doesn't. After a slightly too long pause, he forces out a strangled laugh, and you realize that you've misstepped somehow. 

"Talk about it or leave it?" You offer trying to sound natural and keeping the pushiness you felt gnawing on you out of your voice. Jake takes a deep measured breath, exhaling out slowly through his nose. He drums a staccato on the steering wheel before responding. 

"Can we leave it please?" Jake eventually requests. 

"Facial hair or James Bond?" You ask, wanting to clarify. 

"Both, please." 

"Can do." 

"Thank you," Jake breathes quietly. Then he offers his right hand to you across the center console. You only wait a moment before slipping your fingers to slot in with his. He squeezes your hand affectionately and you both seem to take a deep breath to try and ease some of the uncomfortable tension. Jake's thumb tracing softly against your skin.  

"I'll tell you if you really want to know," Jake says a few miles later while his eyes stay trained on the road. You think about whether you really want to press him for details. As much as you want to know, you don't want to ever force Jake into sharing something with you if he isn't completely comfortable with it. 

"Nope, it's fine. Keep your mysteries, Hangman, I'll find out eventually." You finally respond, pulling Jake's hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, making sure he understood your innocent intentions. He chuckles good naturedly and his hand flexes at the movement, tightening its grasp on yours when you set them on the middle console again.  

"That's good. I appreciate you." 

"I appreciate you more," you tell him sweetly, though you mean it very genuinely. Jake pulls his eyes from the road to flash a heavy frown of disapproval your way. 

"I don't think that's possible," Jake says with passion.

You just shrug, letting the conversation drift to the next topic, just enjoying the drive with Jake. It is a while before Jake pulls off onto a private road that leads up to a massive barn, and you still don't really have any clue where you are or why. Jake throws the gear into park, the truck in park and shoots you an almost gleeful smile. 

"Jake, where are we?" You ask him again. 

"Just my friend's place," he answers.Then,while reaching over and patting your cheek affectionately, says, "You, my sweet, can stay here." 

"Do I have to stay?" You ask him nervously, checking the mirrors on either side of you. You know once Jake leaves the truck and into the barn you won't be able to see him anymore. The idea of being alone here, somewhere you don't know, even in the truck makes you uncomfortable. 

"I just didn't want you to have to walk through all the mud," Jake says. 

"It's okay," you tell him reassuringly. "That's why you had me bring my boots, right?"

"Yes, but you just look snug as a bug. I didn't want to make you move," Jake replies. 

"I don't mind, it will be nice to get out of the car. And I want to meet your friend." 

A moment later Jake is opening your side of the truck and helping you into your boots, tying up the laces for you and ignoring your protests that you are perfectly capable of doing that yourself. Jake helps you out of the truck and holds your hand, helping you walk over the uneven ground carefully. You can smell it before you see it. The fresh woodsy scent permeates the air so heavily that you can nearly taste it. 

Subverting your expectations, Jake does not lead you to the large frame equipment sliding doors of the barn. Instead, he leads you around the nearest side where there is a small typical sized door. Opening the door, Jake reveals a huge workshop. Half of the large barn space is filled with massive logs, planks, boards, and other cuts of wood. The other half is full of various projects, a giant tool bench, and shelving making up an impressive workspace. 

"Oh wow," you breathe taking it all in. You look at Jake and he is positively gleeful, maybe even more excited than a kid in a candy shop. His grin is wide, looking around and leading you a bit further into the workspace. A soft Jingle plays in the air, penetrating the otherwise quiet atmosphere when Jake closes the door behind you. 

"Seresin, that better be you!" A voice calls out from the back of the barn.

"And it if ain't?" Jake calls back playfully. 

"Then you should know, I've got a gun I ain't afraid to use, and you're trespassing." 

You almost let go of Jake's hand in alarm, but he gives you a squeeze reassuring you. He leads you a little further into the warehouse, and a middle aged woman comes in through one of the open doors. 

Jake lets go of your hand to give her a warm hug. She hugs Jake back lightly before pushing him away with a playful shove.

"It's good to see you too, Jess," Jake grumbles, dodging out of the way of her playful punch. 

"Hi, I'm Jess. It's nice to meet you." She says turning to you and offers you a warm smile

You introduce yourself a bit shyly, but feel more confident when Jake's hand slips back into yours. 

"Have you known this pest for long?" Jess asks you while gesturing to Jake. 

"Jess, be nice. I am literally your favorite customer and the son you never had," Jake complains. 

"Paula and I were actually very conscious in our choice not to have children, Jake," Jess says, clicking her tongue at him. 

Jake pouts and you can't help but giggle a little at the sight. "I've known him for a bit, yes," you respond. 

"Well, even if he is annoying, you've found yourself a good man," Jess says. You wait for Jake to correct her. When he doesn't you start to do so yourself but Jess has already changed the subject and started walking to the other side of the warehouse with a gesture for you to follow. 

"So, I got them fresh this week. And just like you requested, I'm letting you have the first freshcut pick, even before me." Jess explains to him. 

"I knew you loved me," Jake gasps grinning wide. Jess huffs out a breath at Jake but doesn't deny Jake's accusation which just makes Jake grin wider. Y'all walk to a pile of grey logs stacked close to the large barn doors.

They start a conversation that completely goes over your head, something about soil conditions, chain lengths, altitude, sap, and other details you didn't know impacted wood. You take this opportunity to look around the shop, and appreciate all the different types of wood and tools. You have only slightly lost focus when you suddenly realize Jake has said your name and is looking at you expectantly. He quickly picks up that you missed the question though, so he repeats it gently. 

"You should pick our first one, Sugar. Juniper was your idea." 

"Oh, I just pick one?" You ask looking at all the logs. Besides the fact they were different widths they all looked pretty much the same to you. 

"Yes, Ma'am," Jake confirms. He leads you to the ends of the cuts and starts talking about grains, and the potential knots and twists that would be in the wood when you cut into it. Jess leaves y'all to decide, saying she'll go grab her forklift to make getting the selections into Jake's truck easier. Jess declines Jake's offer to drive with a snipe about how he isn't forklift certified. Jake's muttered comeback about how he could be forklift certified if he wanted makes you roar in laughter. 

You eventually pick a trunk that overall doesn't look too special, but Jake said it looked like it would be easier to work with because of how sticky the sap was. Jake makes two other selections and also insists on helping Jess get the wood into his truck. 

Jess invited you to an early lunch where you met her wife Paula. Paula had clearly been prepared to host and spent the whole meal fawning over Jake. While Jess might deny treating him like a son, Paula certainly leans into it, and you can tell Jake doesn't mind from the glowing smile that stays on his face the whole time you're at their home.  

As promised Jake had planned time to stop at the farmers market, and an outlet mall, that included a target, where two do some light shopping. Finally picking up Jake's drycleaning on your way home. It's a fun day, and you were thankful you had decided to tag along.

"So Jake, are these for what I think?" You ask him excitedly when you have finally made it home and he is pulling the logs into the garage. 

"It definitely might be. After all, this is fresh Juniper." 

You stare at the grey logs of wood with their mossy, splintering bark that has already made a mess in the garage. Examining the wood you try to compare it with the Juniper you have seen in the past.

"I didn't think it was that color," you tell Jake scrunching your eyebrows together in contemplation. 

"Well, the wood isn't actually grey, just the bark," Jake explains. You watch as he pulls two pairs of work gloves from the workbench. He jerks the larger pair on, you realize with adoration that he had gotten a pair in your size. Jake doesn't hand the gloves to you, rather just leaves them out as an offering if you are interested in participating. The casual no pressure offering makes your chest warm and stomach flutter. Biting your lip you try to contain the grin threatening to split your face before joining him at the workbench and sliding the gloves on. 

Grabbing two chisels, he throws one on his belt. Then he picks up alo with two hammers, hanging both those on his toolbelt as well. You start to get distracted by the way Jake's tool belt sits on his slim hips. 

"Yes. Jess managed to expedite it for us in a special order. I'm so excited. You see, in the spring the sap warms up and it runs through the tree so it allows us to do this –" Jake explains to you. He angles the chisel into the bark, working it in. With a controlled hit from the hammer the flat head sinks in a little bit deeper. Wiggling the chisel makes the bark displace, allowing Jake to grab it and pull it downwards. A long section of the bark comes off before splintering and breaking off the log. The action reveals the light colored, bright, 'green' (fresh) wood underneath. 

"I can tell you've never experienced stripping before," Jake says cheekily while wiggling his eyebrows at you. You feel a bit amazed at the beautiful gem that's been revealed to you. 

"What?" you gasp.  

"Stripping is what this process is called," Jake answers while letting out a full bellied laugh, going so far as slapping his own leg. You roll your eyes at him but can't help your smile and excitement on joining in. 

"Some people strip wood with a power washer, but I think that's lazy. On top of the laziness, it prematurely ages and strips the wood of its natural oils, color, and saps! If we take our time though, we can get a longer lasting, vibrant cut. It's a lot of work, but I promise it will be worth it in the long run." 

Jake takes his chisel and edges it under the bark again. When he pulls the long grey strip of bark gives way with a crunch that sizzles against your ears. Jake continues to slowly peel more away to reveal the fresh color underneath, not pressuring you to join the process at any point. 

However when you do ask to help Jake is patient going over the process with you, explaining the best angle to keep the chisel. He provides steady guidance, only leaving you alone in the process when you tell him that you have a handle on what you're doing. 

You help Hangman strip one of the logs and just as he had said, it is a slow process. It is however extremely satisfying and lots of fun. He puts on a podcast after consulting you to find one you would both enjoy. At one point you accidentally dig your chisel too far under the bark and feel it sink slightly into the 'green' sap softened wood. Your heart drops, and when you peel it back you see that it has pulled a chunk of wood, leaving a gouge in the trunk. You freeze, noticing the damage of the mistake, pulling your eyes to where Jake is working. Just as you start to wonder if there could be a way to fix or hide your mistake, Jake looks over at you with a wide smile that crinkles around his eyes.

"Oh wow," he gasps, the smile falling. Anxiety claws at your throat, and you instinctively prepare yourself for something bad to happen, every muscle in your body tensing in anticipation. Jake's hand gently pushes yours out of the way and dips over the gouge pushing away some of the sap that was springing from the area. Jake clicks his tongue before saying. "Look at this, sugar" 

"I know and–" You are getting ready to spew the best excuse and explanation you can think of before Jake interrupts you. 

"I've seen this color juniper, at least not in person" Jake tells you breathily. You are momentarily surprised that his words do not contain any anger, veiled insults, or condescending tones. Then you remember that this is Jake, so of course you're not going to 'be in trouble'. It takes your eyes a moment to drop down to the thick trunk again. Where you had damaged the wood, it revealed a bright purple streak under the top grain. 

"It's purple," you say, eyes widening. 

"It does look purple does it?" Jake asks excitedly. "That means at the very least that vein will look like that through the trunk. If not all the pigmentation in the grain." 

"So, it's not usually purple?" You ask. 

"Sometimes red, but not purple. This one was a real treasure find, sugarpie" Jake answers. His grin was so wide you were a little worried about his face. However, before you know it, he is sweeping you in his arms and rocking you playfully while saying, "We are going to have to do something really special with this one."  

"Puzzle table," You say as if that was the most obvious answer. That was the whole reason he had gotten all these logs of juniper, after all. 

"Yeah, maybe for the puzzle table," Jake says noncommittally, though as he hums you can tell that won't be the case. He kisses your forehead and mutters a thank you.

Jake gives you another thank you, a little while later, once you two have started to work again. "We wouldn't have known about the color until I went to cut planks and then there would have been a lot less I could do to preserve the color." 

"I made a mistake, Jake."

"Not all mistakes are bad," he says kindly. "Sometimes they are just something that's meant to happen. They have to happen for us to learn something." 

"Says the man who famously never makes mistakes," you grouse back. 

"I make mistakes, but unfortunately, like everything I do, it's to the max. Either the best or the worst," he trails off with a shrug. 

"Because you refuse to be middling?" You ask him teasingly. You aren't surprised when his sharp elbow playfully taps into your arm, and if you bruise later-- it will be worth it.  

"We never should have read and watched Little Women," Jake grumbles. However, his open and light body language make it very clear to you he is being playful. You traced the shape of his dimples with your eyes enjoying the ease they brought to you. They seemed like the perfect place to rest your thumbs on his cheeks. It's nice how Jake comes with a built in guidance system. From his dimples, to the smile lines that will age nicely into kind crows feet all pointing to the freckle-mole by his right eye. You had already mapped out every place you wanted to kiss, given the opportunity. 

"You loved them both," you remind Jake. 

"Of course I did. It is a heart warming, stunning story. But you don't always have to make fun of how I teared up a little bit." Jake tells you, adopting a frown. Teared up was a bit of a down play on what had happened but you didn't call Jake out on that part. It wasn't a bad thing for men to get emotional and cry. 

"I only tease because you were upset about it for the entire next day. Which honestly was so sweet."

"It's not sweet, Sugar." Jake groans. 

"Jake, let's not do this dance," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him and turning back to your work on the trunk. You are much more careful now in how you place the chisel under the bark. In the middle of stripping off the next piece the podcast shuts off and some slow country music replaces it. 

"Now, Sugar," Jake says in an extra thick southern accent that makes you narrow your eyes. He eases in close to you and pulls the chisel out of your hand sliding it in his tool belt. Unbuckling it Jake sets it on the bench. Coming back to your side he takes your hand, delicately. Jake pulls your work gloves from each finger. Intentional and steady, the pads of his fingers brush against your revealed skin. He tosses the gloves to the side as well, and with your now free hands pulls you closer to him, towards the open space in the middle of the garage. 

"What dance exactly don't you want to do?" Jake asks you, starting to sway to the music and encouraging you to join him in the simple steps. Once you do he gleefully spins you in time with the music and draws you back even closer to his chest after. 

Blowing out a sigh you melt into his embrace. Dancing with Jake was different than any other man; he was confident and incharge, firm enough with his hold that there wasn't any space for you to really fall out of step with him, but he left enough room so you didn't feel like he was forcefully dragging you through the steps. He was good about taking the worry of thinking about the steps away from you, allowing you to just enjoy the movement and how his broad body felt pressed so close. 

"The dance where you try to sell some preposterous lie about not being a good man, and I have to convince you otherwise." 

"Ouch," Jake says. You lean back further resisting the hold he has in moving you. Jake doesn't allow the movement though, continuing to step dance to the music guiding you with him. 

"I'm sorry, Jake." you say already feeling a little bad. 

"No, no. I might have deserved that one," Jake answers, as the song wraps up, and you don't know what to say. He doesn't let go of you though, just adjusts his steps, leads his steps into the next one. 

"Let's find a different dance you do like," he says after a bit, shuffling you in his arms. "For example, we know you love the Texas two step."

"Do I?" You ask him with a laugh. 

"Yes, ma'am," He responds confidently, not leaving room to contradict him. "How do you feel about salsa though?" 

Jake turns you around the open space in the garage, going through dances he knows until you are both laughing. When he suggests cooking dinner and watching Dancing with the Stars for some new ideas you readily and happily agree, especially when he reminds you the logs will still be there tomorrow, and there is no real need to rush since you have at least a week until the sap is too dry to easily strip anymore.

…

"Marlee, your boss isn't going to pass you up for a promotion." 

"Well, she might if I'm pregnant," Marlee responds in a small voice that doesn't match her typical outgoing demeanor. You almost drop your phone but manage to keep your grip tight. 

"Marlene Machado… First of all, that would be illegal, and we would file a report with HR. And secondly, is there something you are wanting to tell me?"

"No!" Marlee says, "I don't know what you're talking about, me pregnant?! That's crazy talk. Maybe you're the one who's pregnant." 

"Okay, honey. Sorry, sorry." You sigh only partly apologetic into the phone. 

"No, I'm sorry." She replies in a quiet voice. "But nothing for sure yet." 

"That's okay, Marls. It's only been a few months of this new medicine."

"Yeah, well um I guess that leads to my next problem."

"What's that?"

"What are your plans for Saturday?"

"I don't have any plans." You say running through your mental calendar to check. 

"Okay, perfect. So, here's what Javy and I are thinking." 

"So Javy is involved?" You clarify. 

"What? Of course, he is!" Marlee says sounding affronted at even the concept of not including her husband, which makes you almost smile for real. 

"Okay, okay," you tell her with a small laugh. 

"We'll pick you up. Then we'll carpool to the airport. Don't worry I already made signs. Then we want to take y'all to Olive Garden."

You distantly hear Javy yelling, "When we are there, we are family."

Marlee takes a moment to giggle, "I'll make sure you and Jake drink a bottle of wine. Preferably one each. Trust me, nothing helps with the ‘we haven't seen each other in six months’ awkwardness better than wine. Then we will drive you two home!" 

You aren't successful in catching your phone this time and it slams to the ground. You're frozen staring down at it, only managing to shake yourself and pick it up when you hear Marlee saying your name in concern. 

"Sorry, the phone slipped. What was that?" 

"Oh no, is it okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," you answer the pit in your stomach growing till it feels like it might swallow you whole. 

"You don't need help with anything for tomorrow do you?" Marlee asks worriedly. You take a glance around the house. You had worked hard keeping things orderly and together while Jake had been gone. You knew how worried he was that things would change while he was away. It hadn't been easy and there were a few weeks there when you hadn't been able to keep yourself afloat very well. 

"Help with what?" You ask, trying to get her to confirm what you thought you had heard. 

"Any cleaning or organizing or any of that. Groceries so you and Jake don't have to go shop. Javy hates going to the store when he comes home. I guess there is something especially frustrating about them," Marlee trails off. You can tell that she is picking up on your off mood, and of course she was. She probably expected you to be ecstatic that Jake was coming home, and maybe you would have been if you had known about it. 

You realize there isn't a way out of this so you have to concede a truth to her. You bite your lip and let your eyes frantically comb over the house again before finally whispering. "He hasn't said anything to me… about coming home." 

When Marlee answers you can hear she isn't on speakerphone anymore, and asks you quietly, "He hasn't mentioned it at all?" 

"Not a word," you respond solemnly. 

"I'm sorry for ruining the surprise."

"I'm glad you did. I'll definitely want to clean and shop like you mentioned. And as nice as your plan sounded, maybe not this time. You two are the sweetest ever."

"I still feel bad. Are you sure you don't need help with anything?"

"I'm fine, thank you, Marlee!" You were not fine.

"Wait, babes, I'm worried."

"Don't worry. I'll talk to you later, yeah? I love you!" You hang up the phone and stare at it blankly. Trying to process the new information you had just gotten. Looking around the house you realized you weren't even close to ready for Jake to come home.  

You spend all of your free time panicking, cleaning and organizing the house, trying to make sure everything was just perfect for when Jake comes home. You almost had a breakdown when you couldn't remember if the quilt on his bed had been green or dark blue when he left.. The smallest details were haunting you. You had spent nearly an hour working up the courage to erase the chalkboard in the kitchen. Worried that you would forget some of the more important reminders, you erase everything but what you deemed Jake needed to know, like things that had come up concerning the house. It leaves a choppy, oddly spaced list, but you don't think you will have the energy to rewrite it without crying. 

You were asleep when Jake came home. Waking up to sounds that are familiar and yet gone enough that they don't sound right, confuses your tired mind before you are startled into wakefulness, fully placing that for the first time in 6 months someone else is cooking in your kitchen. Your alarm is slightly eased when you check your phone and see a text from Marlee. 

We're here with a gift, come down stairs as soon as you wake up <3

 While you were put at ease knowing some manic axe murderer isn't in your house, you almost feel like you would prefer that to what you now know is waiting for you downstairs. You sit in your room for nearly an hour trying to work out what to do, if you should confront Jake and how to approach it, hoping inspiration or bravery will strike you into moving. It never does though, and instead there is a heavy handed knock on your bedroom door. 

Taking a big gulp, not having the strength to find your voice, you slowly creak the door open. You lift your eyes up and unexpectedly find Javy on the other side of the door. 

"Hey, sleeping beauty!" Javy says cheerfully. It takes you a few deep breaths to answer from your surprise. You don't know what the look on your face is, but the next thing you know, Javy is sweeping you up into a tight hug. You are frozen though, still strung out on what this must mean, that Jake is home. 

"Is he?" You start to ask, but not sure how you actually want to finish the sentence: home, safe, okay, the same. Javy doesn't respond, he just squeezes you harder. You try asking your question again to get an answer. "Is Jake?" 

"Hangman is here," Javy finally confirms. 

"I thought it was going to be this evening."

"Some of his flights got shifted around at the last minute." 

"Oh. And is he..?" You can't finish that question either. 

"He will be okay," Javy says lightly.  

"Will be? So, that means that he isn't okay now." You grimace, worry flooding your chest that is already so full of hurt. 

"It'll all take us some time to readjust and recalibrate. Just don't push him, and more importantly yourself too hard. Okay?" Javy says pulling away from the hug after another squeeze. You nod numbly, not entirely sure you know what he means but it is comforting to know your friend is here. 

When you don't make a move to follow Javy towards the door when he starts to retreat he levels you with a concerned look. 

"Why do you love Jake?" Javy asks, leaning back against your door. 

You open your mouth to protest that you don't love Jake– how can you love someone who willfully hasn't talked to you in 6 months? The words don't come out though, because in spite of it all, you do love him. You love him so much it hurts, and you made that choice even as Jake actively warned you against it. Javy waits patiently for you to respond, which just makes you feel like squirming more. 

"I do not see what that has to do with anything," you try to deflect but Coyote frowns at you and shakes his head.

"It's because he makes you feel better than a million bucks right?" Javy presses on with the question.

"Yeah, sometimes." You concede thinking of how it was before Jake left. 

"Or like you are the most important thing in the room? More important even than him?" 

"Don't know if I love Jake because of that. I think those are just side benefits. I love Jake just by virtue of him being Jake." You say trying to explain how you feel and Javy nods along to your words. 

"I get it," he says. You worry your lip and look at the door again, still not sure you can do this. 

"It's going to be okay. Marlee and I are here to play interference as long as you two need it. Remembering those things you love about him will help get through the rough patch. He is really worried about doing something wrong."

"What do you mean wrong?" 

"I would say he is worried about hurting you." And you had to resist the urge to laugh, because it was already much too late for that. Jake had been hurting you for months now.

"Has something gone wrong before, or is he just scared?"

Javy doesn't answer your question and he avoids your gaze and stares hard at a far wall. "Hangman and I aren't always stationed together." 

"Oh, I see."

"You're going to have to give him some grace and time; he will even out, I promise. If it gets too bad you can always call me, okay?" Javy's eyes meet yours again, and he gives you a sad smile. "I love Jake too, you know."

"Yeah, I know you do." You reassure him. "Thanks Coyote, you are a good friend to him, and me too." 

Javy is then urging you to finally leave your room, opening the door and gesturing for you to step out. He is asking you to be brave, and it's a lot easier to face your fears when you know someone else is there to help, just in case. 

"Hey what's taking so long up there?" Marlee yells up the stairs suspiciously. She must have heard your door open.  

"I am once again begging Javy to run away with me." You yell back to her playfully. Giving Javy one last tight hug and a muttered thank you, he strides confidently down the stairs. Anxiety and nerves eat away at your every step leaving a sour taste on your tongue. You keep your eyes trained on the ground, as you descend the stairs, still not ready to actually see Jake. 

Instead you keep your eyes trailed on Javy where he has automatically drifted to his wife's side and is already wrapping himself around her and kissing her cheek. 

"Well, were you convinced to run away?" Marlee asks her husband, hugging him back, clearly enjoying the joke. 

"No Ma'am, not this time," Coyote answers with a laugh. 

"I wasn't worried," she tells him. "I know there's only one person you would leave me for."

"I would never leave you," Javy responds, dropping the playfulness from his voice. However, Marlee persists. 

"That's not true, we both know if Jake asked, you wouldn't even hesitate." The couple both turn their eyes towards the kitchen, which you realize is where Jake must be. You are frozen on the last step of the stairs, unable to take your eyes off Marlee and Javy, even as they expectantly look back and forth between where you are standing and where he is. 

You decide you aren't brave enough, that you can't actually do this. You need to retreat up the stairs into your room and pack all of your things in order to get out of here as soon as possible. Jake was back now, all the responsibility you had to watch and take care of the house was released from your shoulders. Never facing him again seems like the obvious solution, you don't know why you had never considered it before. 

"I wouldn't ever ask Javy to run away with me, he snores too much," Jake says. His voice tricks your eyes into looking towards the kitchen. Thinking about Jake Seresin and seeing him are two distinctly different things. He is handsome, Jake always has been handsome, but after so long of not seeing him, it's glaring, breathtaking. 

You think you had expected him to change, which doesn't really make sense. Half a year, in the grand scheme of things, really isn't very long. You think maybe his uniform fits him a bit more snugly, that he looks even more fit than before. You weren't prepared… you weren't prepared at all. And now you are stuck because he is looking back at you. Jake blinks at you, and you stare wide eyed, too afraid if your eyes close for even a second he will be gone. 

"Hello. Good morning," Jake finally says. 

"Hi," you squeak. Then you are finally able to take the last step off the stairs and say, "It's good to see you." 

Jake flashes you one of his perfect practiced smiles and a wink. Then he gestures to the bowls and pans in front of him, "I'm making french toast." 

You wait a second, having to choke back a sob threatening to bubble in your chest. Then say, "I'm sure that will be good." 

Javy and Marlee's analyzing the two of you makes the awkwardness press in harder. Gulping, you try to seem casual about walking towards the kitchen. Jake watches you intently. At the last minute you change your mind and veer down the hallway towards the front door instead. 

"Sorry, I just have some errands I need to run," You announce loudly, quickening your step. Fumbling with the locks you burst out the front door, and stand heaving on the front porch. Gripping the railing hard, you lean against it trying to brace yourself. 

A minute later you hear the door open, and you close your eyes tight, wishing you had been smart enough to walk further away. There is a slight clunk against the ground and you see a pair of your shoes next to your feet. 

"Thought you might need shoes," Jake says quietly. Fuck, this hurt so much more than you though it would. You thought having him home would feel like a relief, not a fresh stab wound. You just shake your head, not sure you can say anything. Jake waits patiently but after several long minutes, he breathes out a quiet sigh. 

"Okay. Well. I think I should just apologize and get on with it. I'm sorry, I am so sorry." You can't stop the hitching sob that falls from your throat. 

"I know you didn't love back the same way, but I didn't realize you cared so little about me." 

"That is an inaccurate statement," Jake protests. 

"I don't want us to have a fight Jake." You mumble, nothing about this conversation was making you feel better. 

"Well I do. I want us to have a fight, because you should be mad at me. You should be yelling at me and cursing the ground I walk on. You should've burned down this house!" He exclaims, and you can hear his frustration. You open your eyes to find Jake standing stiff and straight next to the slightly ajar front door. Hands clenched tight, Jake was staring at like you were water and he had been stranded in the desert for days, parched. A direct sighting of his green eyes is all it takes to break your resolve.  

"I can't be mad at you!" You exclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. 

"Why not?" He prods you in a low voice.

"You know exactly why."  

Jake huffs, clenching his jaw he glares upwards, away from you. 

"You don't have to be this saint you know. You don't have to be this perfectly stable person for me because you feel like that's what I need. Please don't let me get away with hurting you." 

"I won't give you the satisfaction," you tell him coldly. 

"What?" Jake asks, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

"I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of confirming that you are the bad guy you've convinced yourself you are. So, what would you like me to say instead?"   

"I guess I want you to listen to the fact that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for how I left, I'm sorry for how I behaved, I—"

"Are you really sorry for what happened between us?" You ask in a small voice. You lower your eyes to look at the ground, not wanting to be too confrontational. 

"Of course I am," he sighs. It's a stab to your heart. You had treasured the long heartbreakingly beautiful evening you had with Jake before he left, and hearing him say he doesn't feel the same is harrowing. 

"Are you—" you start to ask but stop yourself. You ball up all the hurt in your chest trying to rationalize and compartmentalize. Realizing this is another one of those times you had to fill in the gaps. It was time you refocused on the realities at hand. There were no promises besides the one you had made. That you would love him regardless, and continuously. Reminding yourself this fact helps, you could be upset after, later. Every moment actually with Jake should be treasured, this was the first moment you were getting with him in how long and of course you had ruined it. 

"I'm sorry for every other thing I know I should be, and everything I willfully chose not to know too. I'm sorry, and well I want to go on forever. I want to keep telling you I'm sorry every second. So, I'm sorry. I'll say it a million times more. Like you deserve."

"Jake, stop. Sometimes the more times you say something the cheaper the words have become. So let's keep this one valuable. I'm sorry for pushing, and you've said sorry too. We can move on now." 

"I'll just be plain then." He says, though you can tell that the frustration and desperation are still burning hot under his skin. 

"Yes, Jake, be plain. That's the best option for us."

"If we step over lines?"

"We say something, stop and talk about it."

"Okay." He agrees, "We have to talk about the other thing now too."

"What thing?" you ask.

"My question, what happened between us." He says as if he hadn't just told you part of him regrets it. 

"You asked to be selfish with me Jake, and I said yes. I don't regret that, and I'm not mad about what happened. You had my permission and consent for all of it.' 

"I just kept waiting until I knew what I wanted to say, but then I never knew what I wanted to say," he explains. 

"Jake, I really…" You sigh and scrub your hand over your face. "Can we not talk about this right now?"

 Jake nods silently in response. "Okay, Later, then."

"Sure, like when the Machados aren't listening on the other side of the door." You say loudly looking at the front door that was cracked, having no doubt your friends were being nosey. Not that you really blame them, you probably would have done the same thing. 

"Do you still have errands to run?" he asks you. You look out to the street deciding you should at least take a small walk to sort through your thoughts. 

"I'm just going to go on a little walk. I'm sure I'll be back by the time breakfast is done," you explain. 

"Sounds good, sugar. Can I help you with your shoes?" He asks quietly. The only reason you nod your head yes is because you think you might start crying otherwise. 

Jake kneels down and hesitates for a long moment before his large warm hand is on your ankle, helping angle your foot into the shoe. His thumb makes a brushing stroke across the skin before doing the same thing with the other foot. When you get back from your walk, it's awkward. You completely avoid Marlee's attempts to get you to go off and talk with her. Instead, you decide that the best course of action is to pretend that nothing is wrong. You laugh at jokes and ignore how stilted and awkward Jake's conversation is with everyone. Then, after Marlee and Javy linger way too long, before you and Jake finally get them to leave. Once they are out the door and Jake has locked the door behind them, you both let out a sigh of relief. You meet Jake's gaze, both of you offer small smiles. It's the most normal moment you've had all day. 

"Welcome back, Jake." You offer tentatively. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I kinda just want to nap," he admits. You part ways at the top of the stairs giving him a strained smile and retreat into your room; Jake's eyes don't leave you until the door is shut firmly in place. 

It's much later that night when you hear some loud banging. You shoot out of your room worried, and realize the banging is coming from the other side of Jake's bedroom door. You knock on it firmly but don't hear a response. 

You knock again and the banging comes to a stop. You try the door and find it locked. 

"Jake, are you okay?" You ask him through the door. 

"I'm fine. Thanks," he yells back. You wait but when you don't get anything more, you have no choice but to leave him be and go back to your room. You don't actually even see Jake again until two nights later. You have been able to tell that he is home but Jake is as elusive as a ghost. 

You run into him next when you open your door one night to get some water before bed. Jake is standing on the other side, holding two water bottles. Part of you has a hunch that he had been standing there for a while. He looks shocked but a little relieved when he sees you. 

"I know I shouldn't be here," Jake starts slowly, taking his gaze off of you and looks down at his feet. 

"No, it's okay that you are here," you stutter slightly. "Is there something you need?" 

Jake nods his head along with your words, his eyebrows drawing together. Then he holds out a water bottle for you to take. "Can I just be here? Here, with you?"

"Of course, always." You say stepping backwards into your room leaving the door wide open for him. You shuffle to your bed and lift open the blankets ready to welcome him there with you. However, Jake drops the pillow he was holding on the floor nearby and lays down instead. 

You want to ask him questions about it but the edge he is on isn't one you want to poke or prod in any direction. While you are still hurt, knowing he is here is safe again, with you is equally as soothing, a small dosage of pain medication. 

"There's plenty of room up here with me too, you know." You decide to casually offer just in case. 

"It's too soft for me right now."

"I just thought I would offer," you say lightly. 

"I can't sleep. It's the worst part. Everything is too quiet and too still and at the same time not quiet or still enough. I think I might go insane." He explains in a low voice. 

"What can I do? What do you need?" You ask sympathetically. 

"Can we talk about it?" Jake asks hopefully. 

"No, Jake. We can't," You sigh and hear him sigh in frustration. 

"Someday, at some point, we are going to have to talk about it," Jake says so carefully you know he is consciously holding back the taunting frustration he wants to put into the words. 

"No, we really don't," You contradict him. 

"Sweets," Jake responds, sounding wrecked. 

You think you should give into him again. You should allow Jake to talk his heart out and seek penance from you. How this should be a time when you are strong for him. However, as much as you want to give Jake the world, there must be times that you curl around your own heart to try and shield it from hurt. 

"Listen, Jake. I don't need to know why you didn't talk to me while you were gone. No matter what your explanation is, it's going to hurt my feelings. So, I would rather not know. Please, let me pretend something a little kinder." 

He is silent, so very quiet for so long you almost wonder if he has left. Evaporated from existence, that he never came home at all, and you've been living an elaborate hallucination. You turn on your side just to check in the soft lamp light that Jake is still laying on the floor. 

"You should have said no to me before I left. It would have saved us both a lot of grief I think." 

Jake's words feel like a punch in the gut, rattling around like a wrecking ball, leaving a bloody massacre behind. With a heavy blown out breath you say, "No it wouldn't have."

"No, it wouldn't have," he sighs in agreement. 

"It would be nice though, if we could go back to before." 

"Before?" He asks. 

"Yes," you say, clutching your blankets tight. "If I could pretend that you never got orders and didn't leave. I would jump to that in an instant. 

"You want to pretend nothing happened?" 

"Isn't that an idea?" You huff a small broken laugh at the ridiculousness of it.

"What if I don't remember exactly how things went before?" Jake wonders. 

"Jake, I wasn't serious," you say cautiously.  

There are several long minutes of silence where you wait for him to say something. Finally, you hear Jake let out a long heavy audible groan while shifting. "If you don't want to talk it out. Pretending is probably our best option then. Otherwise, what are we going to do, sweets?" 

"Sugar," You correct automatically. 

"Hmm?" 

"You usually call me sugar, or honey. Not sweets" 

"Ah, that's right, and darling. I got it mixed up because you're so sweet to me."

"I'll help you. If you don't remember how it goes." 

"Thank you," he says. And you can't believe he is actually agreeing to this idea, or really that you are either. 

"Do you not like sweets?" Jake asks eventually. 

"It's fine enough, I guess." You answer as lightly as you can. Then you go through another bout of silence. You nervously play with the edge of a blanket hoping that this tension with Jake will ease. It's always gone away in the past, but that was also before. 

"That's what you want then? Tomorrow, we go back?" Jake asks again. 

"Yes, tomorrow," You confirm. 

"Sugar?

"Yes, Jakers?"

"Can I ask you a question?" He asks. You laugh lightly, feeling a bit of the nervousness ease at his tone which has become much lighter. 

"I never understand why people say that. Aren't you already asking a question?" Jake chuckles low in his chest in amusement. He doesn't follow along with the joke though, just leaves it there hanging in the air. 

"The answer is yes," you tell him casually. 

"You don't know what the question is." 

"Yes, you can ask me a question," you clarify in a whisper. Jake makes some rustling sounds and you hear him come closer to you.

"Are you sure that bed is big enough for two?" He asks. 

"Why don't we find out?" You laugh feeling more at ease. 

With a nod Jake crawls onto bed and turns to face you on his side. However, he doesn't scoot in close like you expect. He is stone still on the other side of the bed, laying on top of the covers, only shifting his pillow once. 

"What would you do, if I told you the last time I said yes, it had an extended warranty?" You ask while turning on your side to face where you are in the bed now. 

"How long are we talking about here?" Jake asks. 

"Unfortunately, I think it expires some time tomorrow." You watch Jake work his lip in contemplation, while examining your face closely. 

"Why would you let me be selfish with you again?" 

"I think it's because we are selfish. Maybe it's a little bit because I don't want the memory of the last time I tasted you to be bitter." 

Jake rolls away from you onto his back, blinking rapidly at the ceiling. "Stop letting me take things from you."

"We both deserve a night where we are selfish with each other, I think." You tell him reaching across the gap between you. You set a hand on Jake's cheek ignoring the prickly stubble there. 

"To have you and let you go again the next day would be torture," Jake says all while leaning into your touch. 

"Just a kiss this time," you offer, urging him by his cheek to come a little closer to you. 

"It was supposed to be just a kiss last time too." Jake's eyes are bright where they burn into yours. He inches a little closer and you lean forwards as well, reducing the gap between you two that much more until there is just a miniscule space now.  

"I know," You answer against his lips, letting your hand slip into his hair. Jake's lips move with yours crowding in close, like he is trying to breathe all of you into himself and commit you to memory. 

"Maybe, it can be more of a promise?" Jake eventually gasps. 

"A promise?" You question. 

"A promise not to hurt you like this again," Jake answers.

"That's not an easy promise to keep," you warn. 

"That's true, but I'm willing to try anyway." He kisses you again and dips his tongue into your mouth. Jake swallows your little whimpers; he tastes just as good as he always has. It's very easy to be selfish with Jake "Hangman" Seresin.  

…

It's a slow road to trying to get back to normal. Jake circles around the house like he is lost. Picking things up and setting them down, starting conversations with you and leaving halfway through them. Shadows stretch across his face and his increasingly dark stubble and facial hair. You are a little surprised to find that he doesn't have a red beard like most blonds do. The facial hair only serves to make him look increasingly gaunt.

Jake even denies your offer to start a puzzle together, telling you that wasn't something he could handle at the moment. You try not to seem like you were watching him like a hawk, but you definitely are. Until one day he stood up from the table in the middle of dinner and announced that he was going camping. 

"Oh okay. Do you know how long?" 

"Yeah," Jake sighs, "I'll be home before next weekend, and I promise you when I get home I'll be normal again."

"You don't have to be any which way for me Jake," you tell him gently. 

"I know, but I need to do this for me too, sugar." He explains while putting away dishes. You watch him complete the task; Jake is antsy even with his hands occupied. None of the projects or tasks he has picked up since being home have been enough to occupy him with real distraction. Two days ago, you had walked into the garage where Jake had rigged up his camping hammock to the ceiling which you felt like he was swaying precariously 8 feet off the ground. On top of that Jake had music blasting, a documentary on Yosemite playing, while also whittling a piece of wood. 

"Okay. I'll miss you." You eventually say. Jake purses his lip, and after a heavy gulp he nods his head. Once the last of the dishes is away he spins on his heel and heads towards the garage door. 

You hurry after him, "Jake?"

"Yes, sugar?" He asks, not pausing his trajectory. 

"Are you leaving right now?" You ask him surprised. 

"Yes, I packed earlier today."

"Can I have a hug before you go?" You ask him hesitantly. 

Jake freezes. He rubs his hands across his face pressing briefly into his eyes while sighing a very soft "Fuck." Then he turns to you fully looking abashed. "Yeah, sugar. What do you need before I go? I'm sorry I should have asked that first."

"No, it's no big deal. Honestly." You tell him backing off not wanting to be too much. Jake shushes you softly while stepping closer. 

"Tell me how it goes. I need to remind myself about this part."

"Well," you start off hesitantly, "normally I would get a hug goodbye." 

"Ahh," Jake hums, "that's right. And I do that part like this?" Jake wraps you in his arms, draping them high on your back. You wait a moment before draping your arms around his neck.

"How's the next part going again, sweets?"

"You squeeze my waist a little harder and lower." Jake follows the direction his arms tightening around you drawing you flush against his chest. 

"Now?" He whispers. 

"You would probably kiss my forehead."

"Just your forehead?" Jake asks breathily. 

"I'll leave that one up to you, Jake." He unwraps a hand from your waist to hold the back of your neck, keeping you steady. 

"And if I want to kiss somewhere else?"

"You've got my permission Jake," you tell him trying to keep want and desire out of your voice. Jake parts his lips and leans in closer brushing his lips to grace over your cheekbone. 

"You can have it, Jake," you remind him.

"No," he answers and closes his eyes. "Not again, not yet. I'll be home in a few days."

Once Jake leaves you know there is something you have to do to help him. It's an idea that gets stuck in your head and then you can't get it out. He had been spending time daily in his hammock in the garage, and you noted that Jake had taken it with him when he left. You missed how he used to casually be in the living room, so you started brainstorming some ideas on how you might entice Jake to join you again. 

So, you go to the kitchen and pull out the rolodex, find the card dedicated to Miss Celeste and give it a call. Russell answers the phone, and you can hear the man smiling through the phone as you ask after his wife. It turns out Jake's grandmother is just as blunt but kind hearted as you had been led to believe. After a longer conversation with her, she and Russ offer you some advice and tips

You aren't wholly sure how you managed to get it all done. Eventually having to call Coyote to help you move some of the living room furniture. However, after significantly less sleep than you already get, there is a large comfy hammock in the living room. You and Javy had to sandwich Jake's large comfy chair much closer to the couch than it was previously, but y'all managed to make it all fit. 

Jake comes home from camping quietly late one night. The stubble he had been supporting before is a full-on beard now, and his hair is longer than you have ever seen it. This look is intimidating to you in lots of ways, like some mirrored version of Jake that you don't know. He offers. quick hello when he comes in from the garage, breezing past you and towards the stairs.  

Jake doesn't make it to the stairs though instead he stands frozen at the edge of the living room for five whole minutes just staring at the hammock. You watch him closely, trying to gauge his reaction. 

"It's a surprise for you." You say after the amount of time he is standing there increases to a concerning duration. Compelled to do something you explain, "I know your hammock has been one of the only places you have been able to relax."  

"This is very sweet. I appreciate it." Jake starts evenly. It's contradictory as you see him grit his teeth, and his fists clench and unclench at his sides. 

"You don't like it?" You ask him.

"It's not that," Jake tries to explain. "It's just you can't randomly switch the living room around and add new furniture like this." 

Your mouth drops open in shock. This might be one of the first times Jake has ever told you there is something you can't do in the house. It's jarring, he has always spent so much time tailoring everything to your likes, desires, and aesthetics that you hardly even think about the house as Jake's and Jake's alone anymore. Frustration bubbles under the shock twisting into anger at the situation. You were trying your best, doing all the things you thought you should, and it still didn't seem like enough. 

"That is so rich coming from you for so many different reasons Jake." You say agitated, rolling your eyes. 

"Why are you upset?" Jake asks you, finally looking away from the living room. 

"Why are you upset?" You parrot with emphasis. 

"Well, what did you expect? I left for a few days and now there is a hammock in the living room. That's an outdoor item you brought indoors," Jake responds snappily. It pushes you right against an edge that you are unfamiliar with living on now. You had forgotten how it was to live in a hyper aware state, trying to manage and monitor someone else's emotions. 

"You act like you haven't done the same thing," you tell him, gesturing frustratedly at the juniper chest. "I was doing something nice for you. However, if you don't like it, I'm sure you're more than capable of taking it down and moving your furniture back and fixing your living room."  

You leave Jake in the living room and go to the kitchen. He grumbles to himself upset which makes you feel even more on edge. However, you refuse to let Jake blowing back into the house prevent you from finishing the dishes you had been stacking and putting away. 

"It's our living room," he finally calls back to you.

"You aren't acting like it."

"You could have given me some warning," he reasons, but it has a slightly accusatory tone. 

"When Jake?" You ask him, upset. "When you called me and told me you were coming home? When you text? How exactly was I supposed to let you know?"

He doesn't have an answer and you slam the door of a cupboard harder than you intend. Inside, the stack of bowls were more precariously placed than you thought. The cupboard closes and bounces back open, the bowls ejecting and crashing hard against the ground. Several of them shatter when they make impact, sending ceramic shards flying across the area. 

You aren't expecting the sound to trigger you. It most likely does because of how high strung and worried you already are. The house is such a safe comforting space you don't really have a game plan for when PTSD attacks hit you here. A chill makes its way up your spine, while the sound of shattering glass rings echoing in your ears, for much longer than it echoes in the room. It's all it takes for some flip to switch in your head. 

Managing to take small gasping breaths, you try to assess the damage of the sharp ceramic pieces around you, categorizing how many bowls had broken. It doesn't help you to fight off sudden panic that is creeping in when you notice one of the destroyed bowls was one Miss Celeste had made for Jake. It was a soup bowl stamped with a silly song Jake liked to sing anytime he used it. Distantly you hear Jake calling your name but can't fully process it. He is stepping towards you, fear rings through your body, and instinctually you go to step back away from him. Flinching hard every one of your muscles feels like it's attached to a live wire. Your fight or flight mode activated but you are still mostly frozen in the middle with short panting breaths, your eyes flit across the room trying to find a suitable escape path. 

"Sugar, please don't move. Just stay right there. It's okay." Jake is repeating, holding his hand up, showing you his open body language. Your breaths continue to come out gasping, but eventually you are able clear the cloudiness up enough with the help of Jake's soothing.  

"Jake, help," you whimper. Training your eyes on Jake you think that he is the only available escape, from the glass around you and this attack. At your words, his whole face shifts overcome with a serious ‘get things done’ demeanor.

"Are you hurt?" He asks calmly. You can't answer him just offering a shaking shrug. "Stay right there for me, Sugar. Okay?" 

Jake is shoving his feet into some boots, then crunching through the broken ceramics and glass before picking you up. He carries you to the living room, setting you down on top of the closed puzzle table. Once you are there, he kneels in front of you. Picking up each of your feet, Jake carefully examines them for injury. Then gives the rest of your body a scan; he is clearly relieved to find that there weren't any cuts. 

"Wait here." He orders you gently, walking back to the kitchen and setting about cleaning the mess. 

"I can clean that," you try to tell him in a weak attempt for Jake to stop.

"You just stay there looking pretty and take some breaths, sweets." He responds from the kitchen. You decide to give in, which is probably for the best with the way the numb panic is still very present at the edge of your consciousness. Your heart is still beating erratically as well. 

Jake is expedient and thorough about cleaning, going through the whole kitchen and dining room with his shop vacuum searching for any hiding slivers. When finished he makes his way to the living room and crouches by your side again sighing heavily. 

"I'm sorry," he says, setting his large warm hands on your knees.

"I'm sorry," you apologize as well. "I should have waited and asked you before changing the living room."

"You don't need to ask. I've just been on edge and wasn't expecting it. I do appreciate the thought. And you know I do love hammocks so, I'm sure I'll love it."

"We don't have to keep it," You remind him.

"We are taking it for a trial run," Jake responds. Then a few moments later he lets out a heavy sigh and says, "You know we are doing it all already, right?" 

"What's that?"

"It" Jake says gesturing with his free hand in the air. "We fit together. We're," Jake takes the slightest pause, his hand grips yours so tight you almost ache, then he drops it completely. "A bridle joint or maybe, a box joint." 

"We aren't ever going to fit with anyone else are we?" You ask him, clarifying. 

"No, we aren't. I think it might just be this, Sugar. It's just us." Jake says the words like a confession, an admission, an honest reality. 

You try to analyze the look in his eyes, but over anything else all you can focus on is how tired he is. You pick Jake's hand up again. Standing from the couch, pulling him with you. Jake asks no questions; he just follows you as you guide him. You tug him with you to each of the doors as you make sure each one is locked, jiggling them to be sure. Then he follows you to the kitchen as you grab two of his glass water bottles. You hand one to him and take his, gripping it tightly while his other hand remains loose in yours. 

You keep leading him then as he follows you up the stairs. Finally, You open the door to his room, and freeze in the doorway. A gasp catches in your throat. It's empty. The whole room. Not a mattress or a bedframe, no side tables or a dresser. It's all gone. There is one chest, a basket with some blankets, and one pillow. Jake stands close behind you, and you hear him audibly sigh into your ear. 

You take a deep breath to steady yourself and pull Jake through the room, leaving no room to address the issue and heading straight to the bathroom. You turn on the water for the bath and let the tub start filling. Turning to Jake and finally, let go of his hand. He looks lost at you, and you bring your hand up to lift his chin up a little higher. Jake takes your direction and those gorgeous sea-glass green eyes look at you. 

You tug at his shirt twice before he follows the movement and pulls it off. You step out of your own pants but otherwise stay clothed. Jake follows you sliding off his jeans. You go to Jake's bath chest still in place and grab a scent you think will be soothing, adding it to the bath. 

You reach to pull down his boxers, and he shakes his head in a small no. When you start to pull off your shirt, Jake's hands stop you there too. He gives you a pleading look, and you shrug back, leaving your shirt in place. You motion for Jake to get in the bath, and he wordlessly does as you say. Making room for you between his knees, Jake scoots until he hits the back of the tub. You step into the warm water and slide down to settle in.  

Jake's head falls forward so his forehead presses into the space where your shoulder and neck meet, taking deep breaths. You shudder, feeling the air of his breath against your neck. Jake's large hands are gripping the side of the bathtub hard. You are shocked that the feeling of the wet clothes sticking to your skin hasn't rocketed you out of the bathtub. But like it often is, it's hard to focus on anything that's not Jake when he is this close to you. 

After a while, when Jake lifts his head and leans back, you do as well, leaning into his chest, his arms slide around you, pulling you even closer, as you draw imaginary designs on one of his forearms. 

"What's it mean for us?" You finally ask him. 

"I'm worse than I was before," Jake says to you quietly. 

"Before me?" And that actually makes you want to cry because it sounds so true. Things certainly would have been less variable without you around in Jake's life. No one to throw him off his routines. And before him weren't you better able to protect your heart better than this? You had been calloused and strong before. Living with Jake and in this house has been like a fine grit sandpaper buffing you so now you only have smooth soft edges. 

Has that been the way it's been between the two of you this whole time, something bad that was disguised as good? You can't come up with an answer, and apparently, neither can he. So it sits there, wilting, rotting between the two of you.

The silence is loud and almost echoes in the bathroom, with no room to hide. You finally take one of Jake's hands in yours and play with his fingers. He seems content with this, relaxing even further into the water. One of his knees occasionally bumping into you playfully, as if you could forget that he was there, as if there were anything besides Jake on your radar. 

Then he is whispering your name against your neck, right behind your ear. Gooseflesh bursts across your skin, and his beard is coarse and scratchy against your sensitive skin not having been trimmed once since it started growing. You try to shift away but his lips follow you. Tired of the game you reach a hand behind you and fist it into Jake's long hair, tightly tugging his face away from your neck. Jake gasps in response. 

You drop your hand feeling like he has been sufficiently warned from the action, which you know would have descend into tickling. Jake grabs your wrist and turns it, and then ghosts his lips over your pulse point. After two more soft kisses there he presses three to your palm, and on each finger. Each press of his lips is intoxicating even in a place as insignificant as your hand. With your ring finger Jake's kisses are three times as long and lingering. It's an action that has you slamming your eyes closed to keep the tears from escaping. He finally releases your arm and you drop your hand back into the warm water. 

Something starts to thaw out there, in your chest. The combination of the physical warmth of the bath and Jake's blazing body heat. However, it is the feeling, the emotional warmth of it that makes the difference. You tremble slightly feeling completely overwhelmed, the idea of being anywhere else or trying to move is devastating to your system. 

"Sugar pie?"

"Yes, Jakobi?" You answer back just as quietly 

"We haven't been doing so good, have we?"

"No."

"Our mental health?"

"Positively dismal. We both probably need to be institutionalized." You tell him. Jake nods along, in understanding with your words. 

"Do you think I could convince them to let us be roomies there too?" 

"Not sure even you could swing that one, honey." You respond. Jake's eyes and whole face positively light up moments after you say the words. 

"Honey?"

You hum thinking it over before smiling and nodding, "Yup."

"But that's my nickname for you," Jake says in a pouting tone but the bright expression he is wearing hasn't dimmed. 

"Yeah, and sugar, darling, babycakes, anything related to pie—"

"I called you Huckleberry pie once and—"Jake protests but you barrel onwards cutting him off. 

"Well no more honey for you anymore. You use half the sweet names under the sun, I'm allowed to have one. And I think it's honey." You cup Jake's scratchy bearded cheeks and smile softly. "You're my honey, now." 

"Why honey?"

"Because you're so sweet."

"I'm not," Jake says brokenly, all playfulness having been sucked out of him. His head is heavy in your palm as he eases into your hold.

 "You're sweet," you repeat more firmly. Then continue, "Plus I can just imagine how snug and happy you would be in those honey combs."

"Hexagons are one of the superior shapes," Jake sighs.

"Sure they ar, and you are golden like honey." You run your fingers through Jake's hair again. He shutters hiding those sad green eyes from you.  

"I never knew just how blond the sun could make your hair," You sigh when you reach the end, scratching back up his scalp to repeat the process. You are turned fully to face him now, sloshing the water a bit to settle more comfortably. However Jake doesn't move, he seems almost as if he could be a statue made of glowing gold. 

"This tan also makes no sense," you tell him, trailing your hands over his shaped shoulders. 

He squints a single eye open at you, and you freeze as if you've been caught. Instead Jake's hand's pull your knees to settle on either side of his hips. Dragging you that much closer to him. It makes your breath hitch and Jake's eyes darken, however, he still leaves a bit of space. 

"One of my grandpas was Italian," Jake says with a quirk of his lips. The single eye he had opened closed as the smile melted off his face. Your hands resume their path, after massaging Jake's shoulders you knead his neck. Which just leads to playing with his hair again. Your train of thought was lost until you noticed a small light but fresh scar on the top of his bicep. You lean forward and  gloss your lips over the skin there. Jake's hand tightens where he is holding your thighs. He takes a careful breath in through his nose, and a long exhale. He follows that up with two more shallow but steady breaths and then just like that the tension releases from his body as he releases the air out.

"Where did you learn how to breathe like that, cowboy?" You ask him, letting your thumb continue to trace the strange new scar you have been examining. 

"Oh, so, I'm cowboy now?"

"Mr. Cowboy, my honey." You coo back. Jake's eyes flutter open again, he blinks slowly at you heavily lidded.  

"You are avoiding the question." You prompt him by raising an eyebrow. 

"It's not as bad as you're probably thinking," Jake answers a moment later. 

"I'm thinking, you did a whole summer of Vipassana, and meditation in some foreign country that made you have concerns about being that white guy(™)."  

As his lips lift in response to your joke, you think Jake's dimples are some of the prettiest things in this world. Suddenly, you find it unacceptable that his beard hides any part of them from your view. You see the hint of them but it's not the same you think as you trace the shape of one. Your left hand remains pressed over the new scar you had discovered. 

"We both know I could never do vipassana."

"I have evidence to the contrary," the words fall from your lips before you can stop them, and you regret them instantly. 

"Don't be mean to me," he begs you. In the same breath he speaks the words you are already halfway through saying, sorry.

"I'm working on leaving it I promise," You tell him.

"We don't have to leave it, we could talk about it." Jake suggests hopefully. 

"We are leaving it Jake," you say back sharply and he snaps his mouth shut chewing at the side of his cheek for a moment before responding. 

"Okay. I know I hurt you deep, and it's still fresh," Jake responds. His jaw clenches and you feel it jump.  

"So, it wasn't meditation? Is this going to be another riveting USNA story?" You ask him, steering the conversation back on a lighter track. 

"It was before Annapolis."

"Tell me more," you laugh, dropping your hold on his face, leaning forward and resting your check against his bicep.  

"You're going to laugh at me," he pouts.

"I find that an entirely likely probability," you answer teasingly. 

"I had to take friendship classes in middle school." 

"I'm sorry, you did what?" You ask Jake to repeat, trying to process this bit of information. 

"This other kid and I hated each other, and we were constantly getting into it. The worst part is we had lockers right next to each other. He accidentally hit me with his locker, and I lost it. So, I slammed his head right back and we started brawling. Anyways, long story short, our school counselor made us take friendship classes, and taught us breathing techniques. It was all bull shit, but we ended up being friends afterwards, bonding over how stupid friendship class was."

"At least you got some good breathing techniques." 

"Something like that," Jake laughs back. 

"What's this one then? It's new." you say ghosting your lips over the scar you had found again. Jake sighs, glancing at the scar himself. 

"You are going to be mad," he starts. 

"Why would I be mad, honey?"

"I got two more moles removed." The admission makes you pull back and give Jake a weary suspicious glare. 

"Have you not been wearing sunscreen again?"

"No, I've been wearing sunscreen ever since you told me about it, I promise. The Doc just asked about one of them and wanted to do a biopsy. So, I said he might as well just take them all off while he was at it."

"And?" 

"Everything came back benign. Nothing to really worry about, Sugar."

"I always worry about you, Jakers." You sigh with relief and kiss that scar again, enjoying the feeling of having your head pillowed on his arm. 

"I know, I'm sorry." Jake whispers back. You wish he had just left it as I know. 

"I don't want to make you worse, Jake."

"You don't make me worse. I am worse, no one has ever inspired me to act quite as selfishly as you have. I don't even know how to wholly be anymore without you." 

"I just want to make things better for you." 

Jake groans quietly, "Maybe someday it will finally click that you make everything better. That you are stunning, and gorgeous, and just over all the best." 

"We could clear cut a forest, and not find a single tree that's sappier than you Jake." It inspires a quirk of his lips but not the laugh you were hoping for.

"You are probably right," is all Jake says back, continuing to trace shapes into your skin. It's quiet for a long time as you two just exist together, coming down from the emotional turmoil of the night. 

Eventually, You ask, "Jake, where are you?" 

"I don't know. I don't know, Sugar," He sighs and tilts his head back letting out an exhausted breath. 

"Are you in the clouds?" You ask. He thinks before shaking his head no. 

"Are you on the ocean?"

He feels the water around him briefly then settles his hands on your skin again. "It doesn't appear so."

"Are you on base?"

"No." 

"So, where are you?"

"I know I'm here with you sugar, it just doesn't feel real." Jake answers. 

You examine him closely from his wet hair to the defined muscles of his shoulders and neck. How much muscle Jake gained deployment almost pushed him into a category you would describe as too buff, but not actually going over the edge. As you trace the shape of his face you can easily identify what one of the problems is. 

"You are being suffocated," you tell him as your fingers trace up his cheeks and around through his hair there.

"Why do you have a beard Jake?" You ask in a gentle curious tone. 

"I don't have to shave until I go back to work."

"You should shave sooner," You say encouragingly. 

"Too tired," Jake says, stretching out one of his legs in the water. 

"Do you want help?"

"You want to give me a shave, sugar?"

"I'd be willing to give it a go if you feel like it would help," you answer plainly. He thinks about it before nodding. 

"It would." 

That's all you need to hear before you are stepping out of the bath. Immediately you hate how the wet material of your shirt clings to your skin. So, you quickly rip it off and throw it into the shower. Jake groans behind you and you point a finger back at him while grabbing fresh towels and Jake's shaving kit from beside the sink.  

"It's nothing you haven't seen and you can control yourself," you chastise him. 

"But you are so fucking beautiful," Jake groans making absolutely no effort to hide the way his eyes trace over your body. 

"You were two minutes from falling asleep."

"That was before," Jake whines as you come back to the bath and he sees you in even more detail. 

You set the shaving kit to the side within easy reach and settle yourself back into the water. You sit so your bare chest is pressed against his. This makes Jake close his eyes throwing his head back  whispering a quiet "Fuck."

When his eyes open again, they are slightly dilated with lust. It makes you smile at him whispering, "hi there." 

"Hi," he breaths back.

"Hi," you say again, smiling wider. Jake can't stop himself from smiling as well, lips drawn upwards. His hands trace up your bare sides and you give him a small glare. Grabbing his chin you tilt his head back once more. 

"Yup, hold yourself just like that," You tell him, pausing to make sure he doesn't move. You start to lather up some shaving cream spreading it along this neck. 

"Have you shaved someone else before?" Jake questions. 

"Not really. So, you might want to give me pointers. I don't want to cut your pretty face." You answer with a teasing tone. 

Jake hums in acknowledgement thinking for a long moment. Then he starts to detail the intricate shaving ritual he normally keeps. You follow each one of the steps. It's a slow process, shaving him. You are worried that you will cut him or make some other mistake in the process. Jake isn't hesitant or shy about giving you sweet and gentle encouragement. 

Finally, Jake's face is free of hair again. You help wipe away the remaining product, and dab on the aftershave in his kit you brought over. Jake winces but gives you a tentative smile when you stare at him examining your work. You smile back softly, setting things down that are in your way, feeling relieved to be done. 

The two of you finish your bath before getting out and drying off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you head back to your room changing and settling into bed. Jake follows not long after in a pair of comfy pants and a soft muscle shirt. He asks if he can join you in bed even though you already pulled the covers back while waiting for him. 

Jake takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable until he is laying on his side facing you, meeting your gaze as you shift to see him better. You lift a hand to cup his face enjoying the fresh smooth skin there. 

"Ah, there he is," you say with a soft sigh. The lines of Hangman's face are prominent and easy to follow again. A tear spills from Jake's eye and you push it away gently. Leaning forwards Jake angles his lips to barely brush over yours before he pulls back. 

"Please?" You ask him, going to follow his lips for more. 

"I don't think we should," Jake responds and snuggles his face into your neck to avoid the temptation of your lips. 

"But we fit. We fit perfectly," you whisper. 

"That's exactly the problem," Jake answers. "I won't do wrong by you again. And that means I don't want to rush anything. Are you in a hurry?"

"Does that have a timeline?" You ask, ignoring your frustration. 

"It does in a general sense."

"Care to share?"

"Sure," Jake mutters tiredly into your neck. "I think it's been going for a while. Right?"

"That's right," You answer, letting your hand drift into his long hair. It is almost all the way dry now and fluffy. He had a haircut scheduled before he started work again leaving you only a few days left to savor this. His eyes close, and a small smile graces his face. With a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp a tiny whine tumbles out of him. Jake seems too tired to care anymore. His nose just nuzzles your neck, and he places a tiny kiss there. You sigh, and resume playing with the silky strands. 

"And how long before we have it all figured out, Honey?" You ask. 

"As I see it, the rest of our lives. So, give or take sixty-ish more years."

"We are making it the long haul huh?"

"Yes, Ma'am. We will, so there's absolutely no reason to start at a sprint." 

"I thought you had a need for speed." You tell him teasingly. 

Jake huffs into your neck, sucking in a deep breath he blows it out slowly tickling your skin. "I have a great comeback for that."

"Oh really?" 

He hums in affirmation. Then he sleepily manages to crack an eye open and looks at you, while he mumbles, "But I am a sleepy boy. Wait, no…  a sleepy man"

You chuckle and kiss Jake's forehead. "Goodnight, sleepy boy"

"Sleepy man," he tries to correct you, but the words are hardly coherent. It takes less than five minutes before Jake is fully asleep, and you aren't far off yourself. Jake is so warm, and itis so easy to match your breaths with his deep even ones. Falling into a dream where you spend sixty years with Jake, even there in your dream you realize that still might not be enough. 

… 

Read the rest of this chapter on AO3. Sorry again, Tumblr wouldn't let me put it all here (and that it's so long). My first reblog of this here on Tumblr has the other half as well.

[mcbitchtits]

Since tumblr is very atomized both in the sense of reblogging as well as people not linking back to things, and given the chaotic events the last few days that bring up some serious questions about the state of the site, I am attempting to put together all of the context in one place. I've also attempted to Wayback/ArchiveToday every link and image as much as possible, so hopefully I've covered everything in case these blogs delete or get deleted. (And hopefully with equal seriousness and humor of the situation, as befits tumblr?) If I'm missing anything, please feel free to let me know. I'm hoping I've also missed larger discussions happening elsewhere, but, again, tumblr's sharing structure makes it difficult to bring it all together coherently and cohesively. So:

@predstrogen/@avewy/@predsterone gets serially harrassed and no support from tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/radiohead2/742831140329635840 Tumblr then bans her blog (@predstrogen) for "sexually explicit materials" despite previously acknowledging that she was not breaking the Community Guidelines. https://www.tumblr.com/alwek/742818852958765056/oh-and-this-should-be-saved-too

The post in question was a post of her transition photos, which were both safe for work: https://www.tumblr.com/mcbitchtits/742557931490476032

A tumblr user sends @/photomatt, aka the Tumblr/Automattic CEO, an ask about the situation: https://www.tumblr.com/photomatt/742806189400866816/you-gonna-do-anything-or-make-any-statement-about Wherein he says their policy is generally to not comment on individual cases, but "[i]n predstrogen's case in addition to some mistagged sexually explicit posts, which on its own wouldn't be that bad, we have documented cases of harassment against other users". He then continues, "she made threats of violence against Tumblr staff", with this included screenshot:

He continues that death threats are never okay, they have terminated a different user over this situation and threats already, and that they take threats seriously and involve "police and FBI where appropriate".

He also comments that the staff is not transphobic, he doesn't think they/he/the site deserves that reputation, and casually includes that tumblr apparently had a transphobic moderator abusing their duties both in action and through bribes: "Why do we wrongly have a transphobe reputation? We did have an external contract moderator last year that was making transphobic moderation (and also selling moderation, criminally). As soon as we were aware that person was fired, and we later terminated the entire relationship with that contracting firm and have brought almost everything in-house (at great cost). I have previously commented on this publicly, several times."

Later on he comes back to edit pronouns in the post in regards to accusations of misgendering @predstrogen.

He continues to reply to some asks, including one about tumblr's banning trans women through moderation: https://www.tumblr.com/photomatt/742822115555868672/all-you-ever-do-is-drop-the-ban-hammer-on-trans To which he replies: "Community guideline violations, including mistagging, harassment of other users, and threats of violence, all three of which were repeated in predstrogen's case, were the reasons for the suspension, not her identity. There are obviously tens of thousands (hundreds of thousands?) of trans men and women on this site—why would our accused transphobia be applied to just this one user? The most parsimonious explanation is that it was because of the stated community guideline violations, not her identity as a trans woman." This is seemingly in conflict with Tumblr's own notification to @predstrogen, which was for "sexually explicit materials".

In addition to answering some asks about the situation on his blog, @/photomatt apparently also messaged several users directly about various points: https://www.tumblr.com/skyefawna/742817887621988352/who-wants-to-take-bets-on-whether-i-get-banned-for

https://www.tumblr.com/allegoriestcicada/742816156202795008/oh-hey-fun-now-im-getting-dms-time-to-see-if-my

https://www.tumblr.com/dragongirlsnout/742816811736760320/speechless

https://www.tumblr.com/elerium/742868288383614976/it-almost-goes-without-saying-but-for-posteritys

Several users discuss their time as employees of Tumblr and some of the situations that abounded. https://www.tumblr.com/tinystepsforward/742827256509038592 Some users claim that Tumblr and Wordpress are planning to sell user data to Midjourney AI: https://www.tumblr.com/tinystepsforward/742889449866887168/could-you-elaborate-on-the-midjourney-thing | https://www.tumblr.com/jv/742961132362514432/what-is-this-about-the-tumblr-staff-wanting-to

@predstrogen posts a goodbye from a new blog: https://www.tumblr.com/cyprederone/742904943801958400/its-rita-were-done-here-for-now [Archived link] which is also nuked.

tumblr, as is wont, KUNGPOWPENIS'es @/photomatt's post. (I think one of the official accounts TOS'd or threatened to TOS someone for this within the past few months, but now I can't find that post.) https://www.tumblr.com/raytoroboros/742894961642586112/you-gonna-do-anything-or-make-any-statement-about Tragically I did not archive this one, and it now appears that all of those reblog chains doing do on the original post have been deleted: https://www.tumblr.com/photomatt/742806189400866816/you-gonna-do-anything-or-make-any-statement-about

I would have liked to end on a funnier note that someone replied with a "this content has been removed [etc]" image in place of the explosion gif, or they did in fact post the explosion gif and it got officially removed by tumblr, but it appears tumblr removed or blocked all those reblogs so I don't know if they exist anymore.

@/photomatt then came back again today to post further comments, including "...if nothing else this has given me a lot of empathy for how pile-ons must be totally unmanageable for users with the interface of Tumblr, especially the lack of basic things like bulk actions that have been in WordPress for a decade-plus. [...] As far as I'm aware improving moderation tools both for staff and regular users wasn't on Tumblr's roadmap when I left, but I hope this raises awareness within the team." https://www.tumblr.com/photomatt/742963003613446144/im-continuing-to-get-harassment-and-death-threats

I think that's where we're at currently?

[twig-tea]

2023 BL/GL/QL Round-Up Post

I thought for posterity I'd post a reflection on everything I watched that completed in 2023. For me, that means anything that started in 2022 but the last episode was in 2023 is on this list, but anything that will still be airing after 31 December 2023 11:59 my time (EST) is not on this list, even if the bulk of the show did air in 2023.

A few stats:

110 discrete pieces of content (series/films)

clocking in at est. 600 hours of NEW BL/GL content only

from 9 different countries (Cambodia [1], Philippines [3], Hong Kong [1], Japan [18], Korea [19], Myanmar [1], Taiwan [6], Thailand [56], Vietnam [7])

~50% of the content I watched on this list is from Thailand

~85% of my content was on YouTube [40%], GaGaOoLaLa [23%] and iQIYI [21%].

[Note that this year a lot of older GMMTV shows moved off of YouTube and onto Viki so if you're looking at these stats to decide what to pay for, this won't account for that.]

This doesn't include re-watches or catching up on old shows [e.g. I re-watched Love Sick, My Ride the Series, Semantic Error, ITSAY/IPYTM, Our Dating Sim at least 3 times lol, and anything with a s2 I re-watched s1 to prep, among others, watched Fujoshi Ukkari Gei no Kokuru (2019) for the first time] or non-QL [e.g. Heartstopper s2, Our Flag Means Death s2, Taskmaster s. 15 & 16, Uncanny Counter s2, One Piece s1, etc.] but does include films as well as shows, though I don't count special episodes separately (so Wedding Plan counts once, though I watched both the show and the special).

I hope you all appreciate that with this much content, and with my general brand of being unable to make decisions, I really struggled to narrow down a top 10 list. What follows is the best I could do lol

Top 20 Shows I'd Recommend From This Year:

Moonlight Chicken

Our Dating Sim

Bed Friend

The Eighth Sense

La Pluie

Sing My Crush

Tokyo in April Is...

Wedding Plan

Laws of Attraction

I Cannot Reach You

I Feel You Linger in the Air

What Did You Eat Yesterday S2

I Became the Lead in a BL Drama

If It's With You

Love in Translation

Our Dining Table

My Personal Weatherman

My Beautiful Man: Eternal

My School President

Be My Favorite

+10 I liked but I would only recommend with caveats:

Love Class 2

The New Employee [for the Rainbow Rice Cakes]

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru

Never Let Me Go

Kiseki: Dear to Me

Unintentional Love Story

The Day I Loved You

End of the World with You

A Breeze of Love

Jack O'Frost

Bonus: Not a BL but worth calling out:

One Room Angel

Midnight Museum

Grand Guignol

The Warp Effect

Sadly, of the GLs that aired this year, I wouldn't recommend any of them. The best one was Show Me Love, which was not actually good but had very gorgeous women and a LOT of flirting.

The other huge thing that happened this year was that I stopped lurking! Thanks specifically to @lurkingshan and @bengiyo demanding everyone start talking about La Pluie, because they got me to post my first meta post. And because I started actually talking to people, I started making actual friends, and participated in organizing things like the Be My Favorite clown checkpoint for ep 11. I also disappeared a month because of life, and am still catching up on everything I intended to write this year. But it's been really rewarding finding this corner of tumblr with likeminded people who like good shows, like to think about these shows, and who are interested in talking about them in a way that's insightful and respectful.

It's been a long time since I felt comfortable enough participating actively in a fandom, and I just want to say to everyone I've interacted with this year: Thank you!

Full list under the cut for anyone curious! [Mostly in order it aired but may be slightly off].

Love Bill

Director Who Buys Me Dinner, The

Star Always Follow You, The

Cutie Pie 2 You

Between Us the Series (Hemp Rope)

Reason Why He Fell in Love with Me Special & S2 [international release]

New Employee, The

I Will Hit You/I Will Knock You

Individual Circumstances

609 Bedtime Story

GAPYuri / GAP the series

My School President

HitBiteLove the Series

Never Let Me Go

Moonlight Chicken

History 5: Love in the Future

Oh My God (ToDo) the Series

Warp Effect, The

End of the World, With You

My Blessing the Series

Our Winter (miniseries)

All the Liquors

Once in Memory: Let Me Be Yours

Shoulder to Cry On, A

Jack O'Frost

Our Dating Sim

Midnight Museum

Me, My Husband, and My Husband's Boyfriend

My Colleague at BL Shop might be My Meant-to-Be

Unintentional Love Story

Chains of Heart

Bed Friend the series

Bad Brother the Series

Stormy Honeymoon

Eighth Sense, the

Bad Brother the Series

Future Series

Tin Tam Jai the series

Crush on You

House of Stars the Series

Happy Merry Ending

Boss and a Babe, A

Pastsenger the Series

Love Mate

Love Syndrome the Series

Promise the Series, The

Day I Loved You, The

Our Dining Table (Bokura no Shokutaku)

Our Skyy 2

My Story the Series

Starstruck

Love Tractor

Naked Dining

Luminous Solution, The

Omai Series / Is My Roommate A Foreigner

Stupid Genius

Step By Step

La Pluie the series

Tie the Not

Sing My Crush / Follow the Wind

Tokyo in April Is .../ Shigatsu no Tokyo wa

Senior Love Me?

Be My Favorite

Show Me Love

Dinosaur Love

Low Frequency

Stay Still

Stay By My Side

Jun & Jun

Wedding Plan the Series

Laws of Attraction, the

Love Class s2

Minato's Laundromat S2

Hidden Agenda

Bon Appetit

Why RU the Series [Korean adaptation]

Be Mine Superstar

Star, The Season 2

Love In Translation

My Beautiful Man: Eternal

My Personal Weatherman

Bump Up Business

Naughty Babe Series

Only Friends

Grand Guignol

Dangerous Romance

If It's With You / Kimi to Nara Koi wo Shite Mite Mo

Y Journey: Stay Like a Local

I Feel You Linger in the Air

Venus in the Sky

Kiseki: Dear to Me

I Cannot Reach You

You Are Mine

Breeze of Love / Weather Forecast of Love

Mr. Cinderella 2

Let's Eat Together Aki and Haru

One Room Angel

Marry My Dead Body

Lucky My Love the Series

Pure Vanilla: Recipe for Romance

Absolute Zero

Memories, The

My Dear Gangster Oppa

Shadow

What Did You Eat Yesterday? S2

Middleman Love

Beyond the Star

Bake Me Please

You and My Stars

I Became the Lead in a BL Drama

[thechaoticcurator]

Pascal, The Yandere Priest

✧Hi! So, this is my first story/fanfic on Tumblr so go easy on me! Hopefully, I’ll post more of my yan stories I’ve been brewing and small lil drabbles I’ve been working on. I hope you enjoy✧ :3

Tw: Religion, Yandere shenanigans, codependency, attempted assault of a child (I in no way support that nasty ass shit), poisoning, murder

Pascal, since childhood was an individual of unshakable faith. Blind faith others would say. Being left on a porch step, living in an orphanage, having to eat rations, even being bullied by fellow orphans didn't shake them.

After all, they knew they stood out with a short, slim body, round face with blotchy, rosy skin, grey eyes a little too big for their face and thin, unwashed black hair.

None of this affected them, however. Pascal, in addition to having an unshakable faith had an unusual patience and calmness about them. Maybe because they weren't alone.

They had Mira! It seemed like she could take on the world as She was strong, She was bold, She was... everything to Pascal. Even with Her choppy, curly caramel hair, bulkier body, rough warm brown skin and furrowed but kind light brown eyes, the adored Her nonetheless.

Mira and Pascal went on plenty of adventures beyond the stone walls of the orphanage in their secret hiding place beneath the orphanage's pear tree. One day, they would be pirates, sailing across the sea, searching for treasure and catching scurvy. Another day, they were explorers, going through the harsh jungles, surviving on the fruits and vegetables around them and meeting playful animals. Pascal lived for these adventures and wished they would never end...

Until it did, unfortunately, on that fateful night. It was a cold night with hard rain beating on the orphanage windows. For some reason, Pascal couldn't sleep. They needed to see Mira. She was their safe space. They felt like they needed Her...? They tip-toed to the girl's quarters in the orphanage, propped open the door slightly with a stone and peeked in the room to search for her bedroll. They couldn't believe what they saw that night.

Disgusting grunting from an older man, a member of the orphanage staff and the nearby church and Mira being held down, tears threatening to fall from Her eyes with a hand being held over Her lips.

"Keep it down. You wouldn't want to wake the others and let them see you like this, would you?" Came a hushed voice.

To say Pascal blacked out would be an understatement. They had never lost their composure like that before. Their tiny hands grasping for the stone propping the door came down and struck the man's head an unknown amount of times. They remember it all; the man's pained grunts, Mira's surprised gasp, the sound of stone hitting bone and breaking skin.

Then came feeling a soft hand, ceasing their attack.

She was covered in splatters of blood, Her hair curled around Her sweaty face and Her normally stubborn eyes were red and puffy with streaks of freshly fallen tears.

She cradled Pascal's face gently and spoke in a soft tone, "It's okay. It's over, it's over. Look at me. It's over..."

They dropped the rock and She wrapped her arms around them softly and just...held them there.

The last thing they remember is gazing up at Her before coming to a realization...they loved Her. This was their bond, bound together by this moment with the blood of the man staining both of them. They fell into a dreamless slumber that night, still in Mira's embrace.

The next morning they awoke...in their bed? Pascal was confused. Was the night before a bad dream? Did they imagine that significant event? They ran into the girls room without a second thought and were surprised to see girls and nuns huddled around Mira's bedroll.

One of the girls briefly turned and pointed at Pascal while talking to one of the nuns. Were they in trouble? Was their crime figured out? They did forget to clean up the body? Was Mira in trouble too?

They were so wrapped in their thoughts that they didn't notice the nun crouch in front of them.

"Pascal? Can I have a word with you privately?"

Pascal looked up abruptly and the nun didn't look upset or horrified but...worried?

They nodded with faux meekness and followed the nun.

The whole walk around the orphanage, they wondered if the nun knew something. Also... where was Mira? They hoped She was ok. Surely She would've looked for Pascal after yesterday's...events?

The nun stopped walking when they stepped in the orphanage yard, in front of a familiar pear tree and once again kneeled in front of Pascal and put a hand on their shoulder.

"Mira was nowhere to be found in the orphanage. Today her roll was empty and all her belongings appear to be gone. We believe she might've run away," she started softly.

Pascal's heart dropped. Was it their fault She left? Was She afraid of being indicted for their crime? Didn't She know Pascal would've taken the fall for everything? For Her?

"Pascal? Be honest with me, alright? Do you have any idea where she might've gone? A nearby town? A...A hiding place, perhaps?"

Pascal blankly stared at the nun and didn't move an inch. They felt empty. This was all their fault. But what else could they have done? Let Her get assaulted by that disgusting man? They would rather die.

They would hit him over and over and over and over and over and ov-

"Pascal, I understand you're upset right now and so am I! But Mira could be in trouble right now. So we need your help right now to find Her. Do you have any ideas as to where She could've gone?"

Upset? Upset isn't the correct word for how Pascal felt. They don't think the word for how they felt was created yet. They continued to just stare at the nun. She sighed and led Pascal back to their bed and stalked off quickly, probably to get information about Mira’s whereabouts.

The next couple of weeks, Pascal was despondent. Mira was everything to Pascal. They just found out they were love for god's sake! They didn't eat, bathe and barely could sleep. Until one day, they felt something tripped over something that had rolled from under their bed.

They picked up the mysterious item and their eyes widened. It was a rolled up piece of paper with familiar handwriting, written with urgency. To Pascal, it read.

They hastily rolled it open and read diligently, ignoring the nauseating metallic smell radiating from the paper.

First of all, I just want to say I'm sorry for leaving you this way. You must be so confused and upset. I just...couldn't stay here anymore. Not after that. It isn't your fault, though. I've always felt trapped here...but you were my light. I thought about taking you with me but I don't want you to possibly get hurt because of me. I don't know where I'm going to be honest. Just away from here. Mark my words though: I will be back for you. I'm so sorry, Pascal. I love you so so much.

Mira

PS: you don't have to worry about the old creep. I took care of him. No one will ever find him. The tree makes sure of that.

At the end of reading it, Pascal realized they were crying. They moved quickly to wipe away their tears and rolled up the letter and put it under their bed again.

She loved them! She said She’ll be back, right? But, how long will that take? Days? Months? Years? Decades? They shook their head and took a deep breath.

She said She would be back. They would just have to believe in Her.

This was the motivation to keep Pascal going. They gradually began to improve. They ate again, began to make 'friends' with other orphans and excelled in school. All the while waiting patiently and quietly for Mira's return.

Being an orphan made it very easy to join the church early where a priest, Father Juan, took Pascal under his wing as a protégé, maybe put of pity or they saw promise in Pascal. Before this, however, they visited the orphanage pear tree one last time, knowing the nostalgia and secrets hidden within it.

They wondered if they ascended to priesthood, would Mira hear and come back to them quicker…?

Pascal learned to recite proverbs like the back of their hand. They got the hang of being part of the clergy rather quickly and soon understood the inner workings of the church and most importantly, the art of deception from Father Juan as the church was full of hypocrisy from the so-called practitioners and especially his mentor.

Father Juan was the biggest hypocrite, extorting the people of the church out of their hard-earned coin under the guise of serving their God and seducing widows and wives who he made false promises to when he whisked them away to his bedchambers at night.

This came back to bite him in the ass, however.

One day, the priest just dropped dead. Poisoning, they said. That was easy and surprisingly fast. Pascal wondered if it was one of the people the priest had extorted or was it a vengeful widow or a wife trying to hide her adultery?

But for now, they had to feign immense hurt and pain. It was easy to do: they just thought of the day Mira left and channeled those emotions and tugged at the heartstrings of the members of the church.

They entered priesthood at the young age of 24. Many were surprised but a majority believed that's what their beloved fallen priest would have wanted and Pascal acted surprised, but of course they humbly accepted.

Pascal found it easy to be a priest, the love and faith they had in Mira went reciting scripture and moving the believers around them. Every word of praise they made towards 'God' were secretly declarations of love and praise for Her.

To keep from faltering on their mission, they read Mira's note every night. Her declaration of love and promise to return kept Pascal steadfast and sane in their unshakable faith.

Then it happened.

They remember the date like it was yesterday. May 11th, as they were doing confessions, just listening to the daily woes and sins of their followers, the church doors swung open.

They politely excused themselves from the confessional with the faux smile they learned to replicate from Father Juan so many times and went to calmly confront the intruders about intruding during this time.

But they stopped in their tracks.

A sharp gasp could be heard echoing off the church walls.

Familiar light brown eyes with a furrow to them, short, curly choppy caramel hair, warm brown skin now covered in numerous scars...

Pascal fell to their knees as though they were praying.

She took several hesitant steps towards them and then those steps became a jog which became a sprint. Upon contact, She cradled their face and they looked up at her again after 13 years.

She looked ethereal under the soft glow of the surrounding candles. It was like She was their God.

Her hands felt more callous, but they didn't mind.

"Mira..." They breathed out softly.

"Mira... Mira...I knew- I knew you would come back."

She gave a small breathless laugh that sounded heavenly to their ears.

"You were always so stubborn, Pascal." Her voice sounded rougher, they thought to themselves.

They abruptly stood up, She was still just a bit taller than them, and hesitantly wrapped their arms around Her and laid their head in Her bosom.

But She just chuckled and held them back.

"You got bigger! You look like you could put up a good fight against me." She ran her hands through their hair affectionately which made Pascal sigh warmly.

"And you grew your hair out, too? I always thought you looked like a girl. You were always prettier than me. Now you really do fit the part!"

Pascal didn't really even register what She was saying as they were listening to Her heartbeat. Even though She seemed calm and collected, Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

They just listened, revelling in Her body heat, Her scent, Her being.

She was here, in the flesh. They felt if they let go of Her, She would disappear. They held Her a little tighter.

This was a result of their unshakable faith.

Their unshakeable faith in Her and they made a silent vow to never let Her go again.

[cerealandchoccymilk]

Trigun Bookclub: Trigun Vol.1, Chapters #00-01

all | next

lets fucking do this

I'm annotating every chapter of trigun, both the Japanese original print (reread) and Overhaul 1.0 (first read). Literally just writing down everything I notice about details, version differences, translation notes, etc. and also being gay about the characters. happy pride month

I had other stuff to do today yesterday so I only got through a little bit but pace will pick up tomorrow today (1 volume/week is faster than i thought...)

Here are the beloved non-analysis sillies...

And there are just so many annotation images so I just put the rest under the cut <3 read my notes boy

[edit: why aren't the images not being side by side like i want them to i hate this. here's the url for my blog page with correct formatting] [edit 2: i guess it's only on desktop, not on mobile. so that's good]

First thing I noticed was the difference in the number of volumes, or the number of chapters in each volume. In my JP copy, volume 1 ends at Chapter #07: Rem, while Overhaul (and I assume every version after the first JP print) ends at #12: River of Life.

Anyways onto the actual images

21st of July - !! didn't notice [that the July incident actually happened in July] during 1st read b/c months are only numbers in Japanese 11 hours after destruction - July incident was 2am

For some reason I thought he was standing this whole time. unneccesary details georg

Estimated age: 24 - Official age for his appearance? dang he's young Appearance - "Place of origin/birth," not "what he looks like" The worst kind of outlaw, and an unrivalled killer. - Added in a later version? (not in my JP copy but the phrase is familiar)

This blank space originally had the Japanese translation for the board.

We see his serious expression already! I don't remember '98 doing so this early on so it's pretty notable to me...

Just thinking about how Vash counted each individual gunshot being fired during all that chaos... dear god.... During my first read/watch I thought it was just silly Rule of Cool protagonist moment but not really. This guy actually has Insane perception, either from being a plant or sheer practice. Or both.

Also immediately after all that, I really love the way the aftermath is shown here. The only things you can hear are the creaks of the light and the crying boy. It really brings out the tension in the atmosphere.

Finally, something other than unneccesary bits! If you look at the flooring under the toy gun, the perspective lines are pointing SW-NE. This corresponds to the flooring on Vash's right, whose right arm is also suspiciously out-of-frame... This is definitely the moment he took the toy gun. I can't express the amount of Holy Shit I felt when I realized this. The detail!!!!! man!!!!!!!!!

There's a little translation error here - it should be something like "Even if he were still alive, he wouldn't be able to move an inch!"

One of my favorite Vash moves with one of my favorite Tumblr heritage posts.

This is not really based on any drawn details, but I think this is the moment that Vash readies the toy gun, puts it in his pocket, and picks up the ketchup. Do Not trust this man when his arm is not visible. Also finger still in gun <3 doing his part blocking one bullet at a time

And here we have Vash's first COOL cool moment!!!!!! cue my homo screaming. goddddddddd im so mentally unwell about him. agh I also absolutely love when Nightow does that thing where he screen-tones a character's skin just because. It pops!! It's unique!! I love it!! I eat it up every time!!!

Here's where I realize that Vash's hair antennae are pointing straight up. I should be on the lookout for when he makes the transition to the M-shaped antennae we know and love.

Also, a little untranslatable joke from the Japanese version. In Japanese, this guy calls out at Vash like "And you, don't provoke him!" except it's written with the kanji for "Hunter" (狩人 karyūdo), with a ruby pronunciation note saying "you" (おまえも omaemo). These kanji/ruby mismatch jokes are never not funny and it's so sad that there's no way to keep them in without doing...this lol

The "I counted!" reveal never fails to get me. holy shit. I love the little boy's expression when he gets his gun back :) You helped!!! and you don't have to have the real deal to be cool as balls!!!

Just lumping this with the previous two because it's a tall image, but another small translation error. Rather than being about doing harm, he's talking about recieving it (～～はゴメンだ is a hard-to-catch phrasing/idiom; it's already been discussed with the translator on a different instance). It should be more like "[...But] nobody likes getting hurt, right?"

THE GIRLIES YIPPEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Not including the dialogue because. y'know. At least they get (accidentally) Bonked by Millie :) get their asses

Here, the order suggestion is made by somebody off-screen, but in the first edition, it was made by the cook himself. (left image annotation says "the storekeeper(cook) is so nice!")

That's it for chapters #00-01! I'm going to keep having Category 5 Autism Events every day aren't I.

It's literally 1:20am as of finishing this post because my computer won't stop crashing. Posting this first thing in the morning tomorrow <3

Also, the Japanese copy of the annotations will be in the reblogs for anyone who wants to see them. The emotions are Rawer and they're phrased way less awkwardly... if you can read them lol

[arcielee]

Interview With a Writer

Thank you so much @aemondtarqaryens for starting off Volume 2 of my Interview With a Writer series! This is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

If there is a story you are interest in, I am open to requests! Just make sure to check out my criteria for stories considered for this.

Name: aemondtarqaryens

Story: Precious Delights

Paring: Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader

WARNINGS: See each chapter for individual, more precise warnings. Written with/for a female reader, but other than purple eyes, there‘s no mention of her appearance.

What inspired the plot for Precious Delights?

Oh God, truth be told? It started with a request I received for Maegor x Reader smut where she's heavily pregnant with his child. And I'm just a sucker for my big tiddy daddy and gave it a shot.

Once the original Precious Delights was posted, people commented under it, asking for a part 2 where the baby is born. The whole series just developed from there on and the rest is history.

I just loved their dynamic in the first part I posted (it's based on the bath scene between Aemma and Viserys, because it was just fitting and I liked that scene in the series) and felt captivated to give the few people interested what they wanted.

Explain your interpretation of Maegor? What drives him? Why is he the way he is in the story?

Charlie Hunnam is my faceclaim for Maegor because someone (I'm not dropping names cough cough @fairysluna cough) planted that seed into my mind. Most people fancast him as Aegon I, but to me, Henry Cavil makes a better Aegon I (you know, let's just cast Henry as every ASOIAF character lmfao).

I always had the relationship of Daemon and the young Rhaenyra we see in the show in my mind while writing this story. And we learn in Innate Desires that Maegor has lusted after his niece for quite some time, and even asked Aenys to give him her hand in marriage. He was denied, and searched his luck (or power) elsewhere, but failed with his wives dying without giving him an heir.

This is something that drives him, too. The need to provide an heir with his blood, that will take the Throne after him.

Canon!Maegor is one kind of a man, and while I find him intriguing, I firstly know that I could never do him justice and secondly, it just wouldn't have fit the story and it's overall development. Plus, having had a soft spot for his niece for so long, it's clear he's not always the brute he is towards her. He's softer, and allows her to catch some rare glimpses of his vulnerability as their relationship develops.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader portrayal?

No, I feel like it‘s very self indulgent. Usually, the reader portrayals are matching their respective role (or I try to make it that way, at least) and with Targcest, I feel like you do have a bit more freedom to indulge. Just a freedom to be cheeky, or disobey certain rules.

Do you feel they eventually come to complement one another?

They complement each other. Maegor gives her something she‘s craved for so long, stability, family, attention, and Reader takes piece after piece of the brute out of him. Just like their children. They‘re not changing him completely, but they have a positive impact on him. She basically made the rogue brute soft and tender. 🤭

Will you add into their story?

Depends, if I really get another idea for this series maybe, but most likely not. It has found a good end, and everything else would be just dragging it out.

Do you want to share about another upcoming WIP? I know you finished celebrating a milestone for your blog (congratulations 💖).

Thank you!! I‘m currently working on the last two requests for my celebration, a one shot with Aemond and servant!Reader for a writing challenge I participated in, and a one shot of an American Horror Story x HOTD crossover where Aemond is the Antichrist.

Any chance we can have a snippet for Aemond!Antichrist? 👀

Easing your trembling legs, you hold onto the desk for support. It feels like an eternity when you crouch forward slightly to steady your uneven breathing, the moment only breaking as Aemond advances towards you, his body leaning against yours and pressing you up against the desk. It’s the only thing keeping you upright, and the moment you feel his hot breath caress your neck, your legs feel like they are about to give in. His thigh slips between yours, but you can’t feel his hands on your body, assuming he’s clasped them behind his back or keeps them at his sides. But you can tell that his chest isn’t the only firm thing that presses against your body. His cock is rock hard, clearly finding as much pleasure in the situation than you do, and all but strains against your lower back. He is so close, that’s all you’ve thought of for the past days, yet it’s not enough. You need his hands, him, to feel thoroughly satisfied. The urge to whine scratches in your throat, but you manage to swallow it at the last moment. “Beg for me to touch you,” he drawls, voice laced with a mixture of excitement and hunger. Exhaling a strained breath, you close your eyes. “P-Please,” you whimper, barely loud enough for him to hear. “Please… touch me. It’s been so long.” “Hm.” You hear it loud and clear, the amusement, the satisfaction, causing your skin to heat up. “That’s all you’ve got?”

[sophieinwonderland]

Guys! I'm notorious for being endogenic!

There's a lot going on here.

Harassment allegations are too broad to cover. Have I been involved in sending hate messages, making threats of violence or doxxing? Absolutely not.

Am I someone who will happily respond to people saying bigoted and hateful things about myself or my community to tear misinformation apart? Absolutely.

I generally don't drag out an engagement though. If someone posts something harmful, I'll make a post about. Maybe a few. And sometimes I'll post anons that have more to add. But I'm not going to focus too much on a single individual. At least not by name. I also try to avoid abusive language when I can.

I personally wouldn't call this harassment, and don't think Tumblr would either.

As for the alleged misinfo, I find that people will label anything they disagree with as misinformation. Unlike anti-endos and System Cringers, nearly everything I state about the science of systemhood can be backed up with sources.

Anyway, here is the context, which frankly seems weird to me. Of all the posts you could have used as examples of cringe, why this one?

This surely couldn't have been the cringiest thing I've said. Even recently.

This was in a collection of six pictures from different people, BTW. Here was the first one!

And don't you just love how anti-endos accuse people of stealing resources, such as access to help from psychiatrists... and then just casually suggest people without a mental disorder go see a specialist in dissociative disorders? Truly amazing levels of cognitive dissonance!

Anyway, let's have a look around at the other comment on this thread!

Soft trauma usually refers to things like emotional abuse, as opposed to more violent forms of trauma.

Is this supposed to imply that repeated emotional abuse isn't traumatic enough to result in a dissociative disorder? Is that what r/systemscringe is suggesting here?

That's rhetorical, BTW.

The answer is yes. r/systemscringe doesn't believe lesser forms of trauma can cause dissociative disorders.

I also found my favorite piece of reasoning for why endogenic systems are supposedly invalid!

As you can see, the only possible mental conditions someone can have are disorders. Aphantasia? Not a disorder and so it's not real. Synesthesia? What's that?

Either something is a mental disorder or it's invalid. Those are the only possibilities! 🙄

[koukaaa-descent]

Your lore post injected thoughts into my brain and, maybe I've misunderstood how Indigo died but I have a Question. /pos

You express coilheads as the husks of people who once tried to hold a star,,, and Indigo died holding a star,,,,, did he turn into a coil after his death?

(Something about being a gently "rotting" version of your past self, the sentience comfortably put to rest with all its memories of its life while the body continues with its instincts and the very base flecks of thoughts from its now gone knowledge and history....... it spoke to me. And it lives in my brain forever now /pos)

Btw your writing is delicious tumblr wouldn't let me add any more tags without my app slowing so I couldn't mention it in the reblogs but your writing is seriously OUG so delicious yummy

- Anno

OUH I wasn’t very clear regarding coil heads for some reason but tbh I was falling asleep writing the response,,,, let me bulletpoint this hold on.. also HI ANNO!!

Coil-heads are the remnants of an outside society/group that once tried to capture and dominate a star in order to force it to destroy Gordion. As you can imagine, the star did not particularly enjoy being ‘trapped’, and thus seared their identities away. Yes, it was painful. Sort like like being able to actively watch oneself decay, no longer recognizing the thing with your body, etc…

Indigo did not turn into a coil. There were vastly different circumstances between these two events, and this time the star was merely hungry, and thus devoured Monsoon, Indigo himself, and obliged his wish.

Indigo would have sooner burned alive before even beginning to become one, either way. Being too close to a star is just asking to be melted.

I do want to clarify that destroying Gordion was not an act of justice or anything like that. Indigo had no concept of justice or empathy for other people. He’d gone into it, knowing that he and Monsoon could die, willingly walking into a graveyard in order to fulfill a ‘purpose’. I’ve said this before; only after Monsoon dies does he understand the weight of what he has done, and that there is no future without Monsoon. Indigo could have lived, if I’m being honest. He could’ve run from the star and got the hell out of dodge before it started eating everything else. Let me ask you; when everything you’ve come to care for is taken away, when the most fundamental thing aside from your ‘purpose’ is dead and gone and blinds you to the world beyond, what purpose is there in living onward?

Coil-heads, if I need to reiterate, come from an outside organization who’d attempted to wield a star in order to destroy Gordion. An enormous community of individuals that no longer exist. Two-hundred years ago, a thousand people attempted what Indigo did and failed utterly and completely. They were stripped of identity as consequence.

YIPPEE,,,, im glad allof you enjoy my writing I just drag these words straight from the skull

[talesofsonicasura]

Herald of Ruin

Hello everyone. It's been awhile since I made a post here. Tumblr isn't exactly making things easy especially because I finally gotten asks after so long. And guess who got a glitch which makes it impossible to edit said asks much less one that still hasn't been solved in days?

Nevermind the details although since that isn't the focus. I got plagued with a new AU idea which wouldn't leave me alone. Thus this particular post.

We all know about Optimus Prime. The heroic leader of the Autobots, a kind and gentle mech who battles those that dare threaten the peace. Yet one part of him we really see is his humble origin as Orion Pax. The bot before the war truly war began.

In multiple iterations, Orion is depicted as a dock worker, a miner, or for this AU Prime's archivist version. What do I have in store for him? Let's begin. (Part 2 can be found here.)

Orion Pax didn't exactly know where he was. It definitely ain't Cybertron from the vibrant greenery, bright blue sky and the peculiar fauna that roamed around him. An organic world instead of metal.

His memory core being a massive mess didn't help either. Orion could access some datas like who he is, where he came from, his function, and even a few individuals but everything else is engulfed by errors. All the archivist could do at the moment was walk.

Thus Orion Pax took his first steps into this strange colorful world. A directionless path past red cliffs, small pools of water, and the various wildlife that watched from a distance in curiosity. It all led to a peculiar metallic emblem embedded in the one such cliff.

A large vault that bear an eerie vibrant purple symbol that glowed as if reacting to him. Without word, Orion Pax approach the strange landmark. His vision flashing constantly to a dark abyss that held a faint blue light before his outstretched servo.

Time began to stretch into constant flashes until contact been made. Orion Pax barely blinked before he found himself on the ground back to the colorful world around him. And it didn't take long to see amber eyes peer down his optics.

Narrow gaze full of skeptical curiosity in what embodies a pure ancient grudge woven in wooden tablets decorated by dead leaves. The kind which had Orion remembering a phrase hidden by broken processor. Knowledge is power. A treasure that can bring peace...

Or RuIn.

Yup. We are delving into the world of Pokemon as Orion Pax just encounter the Ruinous Tablets: Wo-Chien. In Scarlet and Violet, there are four unique seals scattered across the region. These contain the Treasures of Ruin, powerful Pokemon that brought disaster onto Paldea long long ago.

Wo-Chien is the wooden tablets used by a grudge filled scribe to write the deeds of a corrupt king. The Pokemon doesn't attack Orion for one sheer reason: curiosity. It never seen anything like the archivist before.

The potential of untold knowledge leads to an unspoken alliance between the two. Something which later evolves into a powerful bond. Orion names the Wo-Chien 'Blackbox'. (Black boxes are devices that record and contain important data.)

It doesn't take long until the two come across a Pokemon Trainer named Roc. (This trainer fills the main character role for Scarlet/Violet.) After a misunderstanding which involves a language barrier and mistaking a Cybertronian for a Pokemon, Orion Pax's path is laid.

Travel the Paldea region alongside Roc, maybe even help him on his journey. By doing this he could piece together the answers to what led him here and maybe get back home. For now Orion learns about this strange new world.

Travelling across Paldea is gonna require a mix of alt mode, holoform and alternate fuel sources. Orion's alt mode is gonna be a cargo truck since my headcanon height for him is 19 ft. As for alternate fuel, it takes the forms of Tera Shards.

These shards are crystallized energy only found in the Paldea region and responsible for a phenomenon known as Terastallization. Roc made a desperate attempt to save a energy drained Orion by having him consume a Dark Tera Shard. These items become vital for the Cybertronian until he can fully perfect a recipe for Synthetic Energon. Success varies.

For Pokemon, Orion only catches those who wish to join him unless a situation calls for it. Like the safety of the creature in question that leads to no other option. Otherwise Orion leaves them be. The same goes for battling as well with the exception of spars.

Our archivist will have a team like any other trainer and I'll be going over the main ones. His signature team basically. Let's start with Orion's first Pokemon.

Blackbox: Wo-Chien

Type: Dark/Grass Nature: Serious Tera: Dark

Ability: Tablets of Ruin- reduce the ATK of all other Pokemon on the field.

Moves: Growth, Ruination, Giga Drain, Dark Pulse

This grumpy book snail of a Wo-Chien prefers to quietly read and nap in peace. He's not above using his ability to intimidate someone if irritated enough. Blackbox isn't fully heartless though as he cares for Orion alongside his close companions in subtle ways. Harm them and this Wo-Chien will drain those offenders dry.

Purrlee: Purugly

Type: Normal Nature: Jolly Tera: Ground

Ability: Defiant - Boosts Attack when stats lowered.

Moves: Play Rough, Hone Claws, Dig, Bulldoze

Orion's second Pokemon, this Tiger Cat is surprisingly very friendly, snuggly and energetic despite the species. She was abandoned by her former Trainer after evolving from Glameow. Purrlee has a tendency to bowl over others for surprise nuzzles. No one stops her though, not even Blackbox.

Vos: Gligar

Type: Ground/Flying Nature: Impish Tera: Poison

Ability: Hyper Cutter- Prevents Attack from lowering

Moves: Cross Poison, Swords Dance, Bulldoze, Fire Fang

A wild glutton who serves as Orion's third Pokemon. He joined the team back when he was a Gligar that gotten lost from his group and slept in the archivist's cabin. Vos' name is coined from a lost memory that the Pokemon had accidentally triggered. He loves sleeping in Orion's cabin or hang off him like a perch.

Shard: Quaquaval *Shiny

Type: Water/Fighting Nature:Timid Tera: Ice

Ability: Moxie- boosts Attack for each Pokemon they defeat

Moves: Aqua Step, Ice Spinner, Counter, Hurricane

Orion's fourth Pokemon is a shy dancer who wishes to perfect her craft. Shard started as a very timid Quaxly who evolves over the span of the adventure. The dual type has gain more confidence upon becoming a Quaquaval but still hides behind Orion if spooked.

Noctis: Grimmsnarl

Type: Dark/Fairy Nature: Naughty Tera: Fairy

Ability: Pickpocket - Steals an item if physically attacked

Moves: Spirit Break, Play Rough, Drain Punch, Crunch

A loyal yet mischievous powerhouse that became Orion's fifth Pokemon. He started as a self destructive chaotic Morgrem who absolutely loathe the archivist until one fateful incident led to Noctis not only evolving into Grimmsnarl but try to better himself. The dual type still pull pranks, thankfully these aren't as dangerous like back then.

Vector Prime: Steelix *Can Mega Evolve

Type: Steel/Ground Nature: Gentle Tera: Steel

Ability: Sturdy - Cannot be knocked out with 1 hit KOs

Moves: Dragon Dance, Iron Tail, Psychic Fangs, Metal Burst

A mysterious Pokemon that can sense space-time anomalies serves as Orion's sixth Pokemon. Vector is a grandfatherly soul who tends to dote on everyone and provide comfort or wisdom if needed. His name stems from a triggered memory like Vos. Vector can mega evolve with the Steelixite Orion earned if need be.

Crimson: Koraidon

Type: Dragon/Fighting Nature: Hasty Tera: Dragon

Ability: Orichalcum Pulse -Turns the sunlight harsh when entering battle. The ancient energy thrumming through this Pokemon boosts it's Attack in harsh sunlight.

Moves: Collision Course, Iron Head, Dragon Claw, Shadow Claw

A hyperactive and affectionate Legendary that is Orion's emotional support Pokemon. He was entrusted to the archivist by Professor Sada as a Ride Pokemon, although she's unaware of him not being human. Crimson spends most his time munching on sandwiches and making others laugh than battling. Doesn't mean the Koraidon is unable to curb stomp those who wish to cause trouble.

I can't forget about Orion's human companion. Roc is a 23 year old trainer who tends to be quite carefree but also equally reckless. He aspires to be a Frontier Brain and run his own facility. To do so, he must compete in the Battle Frontier which will pit him against trainers who can match even Pokemon League champions in skill or strength.

Roc explores various regions to gain experience that could aid in his quest. He accidentally mistook Orion for a Pokemon on their first meeting and it took Blackbox stealing the man's Rotomphone to stop the fight from escalating. (There's a language barrier which can be resolved by the data inside the device.)

Roc is an enabler when it comes to Orion. From the limited info he got out of the bot's fragmented memory, the young man felt angry about how his new friend lived back on Cybertron. Something Roc decides to rectify by giving Orion a chance to experience life.

It does put a dent in his wallet but the price is worth it when the archivist gets to attend a carnival or read whatever book he wants. Orion tries to pay him back however Roc usually refuses. The time he doesn't is by asking to learn stuff from the bot in exchange.

Such things consist of reading/writing/understanding Cybertronian, history and other subjects on the planet that isn't functionalism. Roc's penmanship definitely approved upon trying to write Orion's language. He did roll his eyes when the bot mistook his handwriting for 'clocker' scratch. (Cybertronian Chicken)

I will be drawing Roc. For holoform design, either design my own or use the TFA version. Orion Pax is participating in all the events of the main Scarlet/Violet game and Teal Mask/Indigo Disk DLC alongside my OC except for the Pokemon League. Now this is the first half of my AU explanation.

The second will delve into the Transformers side and why it's called 'Herald of Ruin'. Do know that Orion Pax is gonna be quite different from his canon counterpart throughout this. I will drive a wedge between them and see how the character can molded.

That's all I got for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you back in Paldea. Now transform and roll out! Here's a Trainer Card that I made on Pokecharms.com for Orion Pax and Crimson(Koraidon).

[daemondaes]

never an end—only a pause

      hi hello i'm sorry i haven't been around much. i kept trying to be around, but life got in the way. then i started coming back, but was discouraged because my dash has been deader than dead? it felt like coming back to an empty house...so i started slipping away again. then, when my creativity cravings were at their strongest (now), my health took another nosedive (and so i've had a headache for four days straight). i really, really wanted to do a series of individual posts with little doodles thanking some of the people i've made particularly strong connections with this year, but because i can hardly look at the screen, i'm doing a mass/gen post instead. so that's this.

      despite everything, i keep getting pulled to tumblr again and again and again. without you, that wouldn't be possible. without you, this blog wouldn't continue to exist. the stories on this blog are just as much yours as they are mine, because roleplay, by its very nature, is collaborative. someday, if i ever do manage to publish the individual (or collective!) stories of the characters on this blog in one way or another, they won't necessarily follow the same paths as their stories do on here. i have arcs and beats in mind, but on tumblr, they're more malleable. you have the power to change them for better and for worse. you might even make me reconsider what i thought was set in stone, or help me reach a new understanding of characters that i thought i knew as surely as i birthed them.

      roleplay can be such a special form of writing, wholly unlike any other kind of storytelling, and i could never for a moment forget all the bonds i've made with so many people here. i've met wonderful writers from all across the globe, and with the power of imagination alone, our lives have become indelibly linked through the worlds of our characters. that's such a magical, peculiar sort of intimacy that might seem mad to outsiders, and in many ways, they'd be right.

      roleplay, particularly on tumblr, is such a masochistic act of love, but i don't for a second regret the time i've spent here with you all, and i hope i can be here more consistently in the coming year. 2024 marks year 12 since i transitioned to writing on tumblr, and in the past months, i've managed to rediscover people who i met in the earliest days of my journey here. i hope you know how elated i am to see you still here, writing, even if we only peer at each other from across the room. i hope we can continue to write together, or at least near each other, for many more years to come. for those of you who i've yet to form much of a bond with, this is going to be our year! for those of you who i haven't yet met at all, this is me throwing a penny into the wishing well, asking the universe to bring us together.

      this blog was built by you. i was built by you. let's build the future together.

[olderthannetfic]

This Goncharov debate is only circling back to the two issues your marvelous blog has put into question all year long. (years?)

One, we are facing a new generation of people that have no idea how to use the internet. If people google search for the movie, and the first result is the Wikipedia page for it, and they settle for that information alone, then obviously they don't know how to look for other sources of information that is not the already digested ones by either social media or Wikipedia. The second is known for being the target of trolls constantly messing with the entries every time some meme is blown out of proportion.

But I don't buy this explanation from some other anons. People are always championing for wokeness but get blinded by their wish of making everything safe because I just google it, and several results mention how all this is a big Tumblr joke. Come on kids, if you can get easily gaslighted by the internet, then this obviously means the people you defend or yourself, maybe need to learn how to navigate this. This has to do with fake news and that stuff, but I thought that only happened to my 68-year-old mum because her only source is Facebook. There are several articles already about how this is “reality internet/unreality/meme”.

Second. Mental illness. I don't mean to victim blame anyone, I suffer from mental illness too, bipolarity, OCD, and clinical depression. I have my bad days. But I am aware of my issues, and that's why I have to be self-aware and not engage with everything that makes me hurt. Once again we need to understand that the only safe space, is the one you create for yourself. The internet is not supposed to be monitored or censured, people can try to control it, but honestly, that would only kill the internet, they already are containing people with algorithms and fake news as it is. To use another meme. “You can't handle the truth”. But others do.

Now, some people are not self-aware of their mental illness, but why do we need to turn it into a responsibility for everyone?. This is the same issue as kids on the internet, I don't have kids, so why should I care about some random kid wandering unsupervised by his parents into the space I have created for myself?. If I had a kid, I certainly would NEVER give them free access to the internet, and when ready, I would teach them at least, how to use it. This is the same issue with people with severe mental illness. It's the responsibility of their families (not their friends either, being in charge of the health of a friend would turn into caregivers burnout).

I might sound extreme, but this is similar to giving a mentally ill person a Gun. People are saying that those kinds of individuals “loss their grip of reality” because of a meme, and in turn, this makes them self harm?, suicidal?....this is the same then as giving them something as dangerous as a weapon. Only people think there's nothing wrong, and it's harmless to have an internet connection.

But if it was, then we wouldn't be speaking about people getting hurt by a joke. But as with guns, those are tools too, it's not problem of the tool, but who is allowed to use one/carry one. People need to stop babying others on the internet, it's no one's duty to make it safe. It took me less than five posts down in my main to see people fighting about Goncharov’s plot differences to make me realize it was a meme.

Do you know what actually needs unreality tags?. Everything and everyone on Tiktok, like put a tag on the App. In fact, I constantly need reality checks every time I enter Instagram and I see an incredible hegemonical beauty on vacation on some paradise island. Influencers should tag themselves as unreality because they induce in me an existential crisis with their dreamlike perfect -from outside capitalist lives. Maybe the real problem is social media….Nah, lets blame the creative artsy game of those dorks instead…right?...

--

[byemizumikahago]

Actions you can take to stop MizumiKahago

Before continuing! Read here.

Now then, I assume most of the people coming to this blog, upon reading through the dropbox link, find Mizumi reprehensible, and feel like this person should not be allowed to exist within a fandom space with a large portion of minors making up the community. Most people would (rightfully) believe someone like this should be locked up in prison.

However, I elaborated in this post about what reporting Mizumi to the police would entail, and how it wouldn't put a stop to her actions, and in fact, even make everything worse. So there seems to be nothing we can do to bring the victim justice, right?

Well, I don't think so. I think there are still things you, as a member of the danganronpa, mystic messenger, pokemon, or AI: The somnium files community, can do to make your fandom a more safe space for others, and it starts here:

(ALSO: reblogs >>> likes. If you wanna help spread awareness, reblogs help more than likes)

️✅ DO

Spread the dropbox link & the knowledge of this blog

Message a report of the reddit account u/MizumiKahagoArts to the following subreddits' admins: r/aithesomniumfiles, r/OriginalCharacter, r/mermaids, r/HajimeHinata, r/ultimateeverything, r/pokemon

Report u/MizumiKahagoArts to the Reddit admins for "predatory or inappropriate behaviour involving a minor" and "ban evasion".

Report https://mizumi-kahago.tumblr.com/ to Tumblr admins: https://www.tumblr.com/abuse/minors

Report the Twitter accounts MizumiKahago and MizumiKahagoArt for Child Sexual Exploitation

Report the Instagram account mizumikahago for NSFW Content involving minors

Warn newcomers to the fandom about Mizumi

Block Mizumi's accounts on any social media that you own.

Encourage others, especially minors, to block her.

❌ DON'T

Try to actually have a conversation with her (she's not someone to be swayed into doing the right thing or be reasoned with; she's a dangerous individual that you should avoid as much as possible)

Harass, attempt to dox, or bully Mizumi off any social media platform.

Attempt to find the victim Mizumi groomed and/or pressure them into giving more info.

Harass, attempt to dox, or bully any of Mizumi's friends (current or former) or fans who simply like/reblog her content. Just TELL them what Mizumi did, and let them decide whether they want to continue associating with her or not (and if they decide to cut off all contact with her, great! If not, then STILL DON'T GO AND HARASS THEM)

This post may be added to, or have stuff removed from it in the future, so if you have any suggestions for things to add, feel free to tell me.

[floralovebot]

What kind of tattoos do you think the winx and specialists and also the trix would get? I remember reading a post on tumblr how all the guys would get a tattoo honouring nabu and it was so sweet!

ooo fun!!

maybe it's me being boring but i can't picture most of the winx or trix being heavily tatted. i can see musa and stormy having more tattoos (and honestly maybe even tecna), but i think most of them would have like,, one or two simple ones! i definitely think the winx at some point would get a group tattoo though!! maybe something classic like a butterfly or even the number 6 (maybe 7 if this happens after roxy joins them)!

but for some individual hcs under the cut cause it got Long oops:

bloom: very very simple butterfly with hearts! i could also see a flower tattoo too honestly :) i think any tattoo that bloom gets would be very pinterest inspo ish if you know what i mean

stella: it's very on the nose but i do think stella would want something that honors her heritage and powers! i think she would prefer simple and elegant tattoos :) i also think she'd eventually get a matching tattoo with brandon!

flora: you already know i'm gonna say flowers man cmon aljgd i do think she would want something a little cuter though!

musa: OH musa would get a sleeve i simply do not care argue with the wall!! personally, i can see her doing one full sleeve and one half sleeve! what she gets,,, definitely things that are music related, i can see her really wanting something that represents riven but disguising it as something else Just In Case, minimal nature, minimal animals, maybe some band tats? (i feel like musa might be an impulse tattooer,, akjdkjagd)

it's hard to find full sleeve pics that would have everything musa would have so there's one sleeve inspo and a couple of separate tattoos that would actually be in the sleeves!

aisha: again very on the nose but she would definitely get something wave/ocean themed. i can also see her getting something to remember nabu or match with nabu in aus where he's still around

tecna: ...

do you see the vision!! also sorry for the bulge. ajldg

icy: i'd love for icy to be a tattoo bitch but i genuinely think she'd hate tattoos ajhdglag she has commitment issues <3

darcy: ... darcy is really interesting because i can see her both not wanting tattoos but also wanting witchy ones,,, if she Did get a tattoo, this would be the vibe

stormy: edgy. also collarbone tattoo <3

sky: would not get any tattoos because he's a loser and also his dad wouldn't let him (may or may not have a secret tattoo on his ass after getting drunk because the specialists thought it would be funny. it may or may not be the group tattoo)

brandon: only has the matching tattoo with stella and a matching one with the specialists! as for what the matching tattoo would be, i really like the idea of a sword that's broken into 6 pieces (that obviously represent all of them, including nabu) and they would get it after nabu eats shit </3

timmy: would be too nervous to permanently alter his body :( would get the group tattoo cause he doesn't want to be left out though

riven: edgy double full arm sleeve to look tough we are so on to you buddy. also a back tattoo

also they make fun of him for having a dragon tattoo. he says it's not fair since he got it before they knew bloom had the dragon's flame. no one cares </3

helia: the group tattoo and this one - both on his inner wrist

he got it when he first joined red fountain and everyone thinks it's fucked up except for riven who understands the importance. ignore them being aliens for one second hear me out Okay

nabu: rip.

[stopscammingartists]

There is literally nothing glip could do that would change your mind. They could literally destroy themself trying and you would just find reason to continue discrediting a massively abused and traumatized individual who- yes, did NOT handle things perfectly at times - but who is also a fucking human being and asking them to be literally perfect when they have hundreds, if not thousands, of people spewing vitriol and probably death threats (knowing the internet) at them based on stuff their abuser has done.

How the fuck do you expect someone to handle that, especially someone who’s been abused since childhood and then groomed well into adulthood. it was only the past 4 years that they began to realize how fucked up it all was. They were gaslit for -years-, they had no control over their boundaries because they were constantly ignored, and they had no reference of healthy interactions with others. Of course they’re not going to be perfect, but if you actually bothered to listen to what they’re saying you’d realize that they’re actually -trying- to improve. Trauma like that doesn’t go away overnight. They’re not perfect, and people like you won’t let them heal without ripping into literally everything they try and do to make things better. Idk about you but that shit would make me wanna give up. Why bother, if you will never accept the effort?

I’ve read all sides of this shit (available publicly), and all I can see is people abusing them further for the sake of laughs or out of some sick sense of “justice” being taken out on the wrong fucking person. They literally can do nothing to please you because you don’t WANT to change your mind. You want a fucking boogie man to lash out at. You want a “justified” target. You’re disgusting.

You don't know what you're talking about and you do not know me.

Before Glip became active on Tumblr again - the last time this blog was active was 9 months ago. That was my co mod. The last post I made on this blog was about a year and a half ago and was a reblog on August of 2020. The last actual post I made on this blog was in June of 2020 - almost two years ago.

If what you say is true about me: that nothing is ever enough - why did I stop running this blog for such a long gap? And why did I return now?

Because my mind was changed. I didn't see a reason to be running this blog. Glip wasn't outwardly recruiting people into their cycle of abuse pinwheel of a discord server on social media. That. To me. Was enough.

At my core I believe that after everything: Glip is either too genuinely broken from their abuse to run a community or to maliciously predatory to run a community. Which one Glip is specifically does not matter, the result is the same. (I personally believe it was a lot of both.) By running a community, they continue this cycle of abuse because Glip has proven for the past decade that they are incapable of running a community in a healthy way.

I know Glip was running a community during that time, and I also know some fucked things were done in Glips community during that time either under their watch if not by their hand. But as they were not using tumblr to actively recruit people there was nothing I could reasonably do as my goal is to only dissuade people from joining glips communities and to generally avoid Glip.

There was no reason to run this blog because not only because anything I could have done here during that time period wouldn't have accomplished anything that I care to achieve. But also because I do not like running this blog.

Seriously, you think I get a kick out of dealing with bitchy asks like yours? You think I like taking hours writing essays about the horrid material involving this situation? I have other things I could be doing, much more fun things then this shit. But I do it because I believe it could make even a slight difference by dissuading people who see Glips cute queer art, joining their server and by extension, the cycle of abuse. That, to me, makes this chore worth it. Because I've been in Glips cycle and it fucking fucked me up as a kid.

If you think asking that Glip recognizes that they are genuinely incapable of running a healthy community and no longer trying is asking that they "be perfect" then you're dumber than a bag of rocks. I don't like glip for a lot of reasons - a lot of which I’ve expressed on this blog. But the only thing that makes me run this blog is the fact they continue hurting people in the same way they've always done and are in fact looking to expand on the scope of how many people they drag into this. While refusing to take the one real step they can take to stop hurting people.