#but I'll give season two a chance sometimes you just have to give things to pick up momentum I'm impatient I'm here for the cult shit
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Let It Snow
Find my John Price masterlist
This is for @glitterypirateduck winter challenge! I took inspiration from the song Let It Snow, because who wouldn't want to use this man as a source of warmth. Really.
John Price is your neighbor. Just your friendly neighbor. Nothing more.
At least, until the heat in your flat dies.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, sweetness overload, really this is all just cute and fluff.
Word count: 2.5k
You still weren't quite sure how you'd fallen into this thing with John Price. You'd moved in to the flat next to his, the shared wall between the two of you giving you only hints of his life. Mostly, there was silence.
But sometimes there was the rumbling of a deep, lovely voice. Singing. The muted sounds of a TV. Music.
The first time you talked to him, you were coming back from a date that had ended badly. You still weren't sure whether to be angry or upset, and had settled on some potent mixture of the two.
John Price was standing outside, shirtsleeves rolled up past his elbows, heedless of the chill of the evening. He nodded once to you, gaze sweeping over you.
“Evening,” he greeted, neutral pleasant.
“Hi.” You managed a smile. “Haven't had the chance to introduce myself yet.” You held out a hand to him, giving him your name.
“John Price.” He shook your hand, firm but not painful. Quick.
“Nice to finally meet you.” You glanced beyond him to your door, the temptation to cry rising as upset won over anger. “Hate to run, but…”
“Of course.” He stepped back, out of the way. “Have a good night.”
You bit your tongue to keep the bitter words trapped, simply nodding to him before stepping past him. Your hands only shook a little as you unlocked your door and stepped inside.
You kept your emotions to yourself until you showered, hot as you could stand. Then you allowed yourself some release.
After that, it became much more common to see him, at least when he was home. You passed him frequently when you came home, and once or twice he rescued you by getting the door when you had bags of groceries.
The two of you circled each other, pleasant and friendly and not much else.
Despite his charm, despite his kindness, despite his obvious good looks… you couldn't believe anything more. He was friendly, and that was all. He was neighborly, and that was all.
Even if he was good-looking. Even if the way he looked at you made you both self-conscious and want to preen. Even if you developed a little crush on him despite your best intentions.
And you held on to those thoughts all the way up until your heater broke.
You stood in the middle of your flat, shivering, bundled up in layers and silently cursing the snow outside. And cursing the landlord, who promised he'd get the heater fixed… in a couple days. Three, or maybe four. But you'd be fine, right?
Which left you seething and debating the merits of buying a space heater, if you could find one. It was late in the season, but maybe you'd be lucky…
The knock on your door startled you, and you about jumped out of your skin. Who…? Frowning, you stepped forward slowly, hands trembling from the cold and nerves.
John Price stood outside your door, arms crossed loosely in front of his chest.
“John?” You blinked at him. “Can I help you?”
“Actually, might be able to help you.” He scratched at the hair on his jaw, brilliant blue eyes holding you captive as easily as breathing. “Heard something ‘bout your heater through the wall.”
You warmed, ducking your head briefly, even though you knew you had nothing to be ashamed of. “Ah. Heard that, huh?” You huffed a little laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, I forget how thin these walls are sometimes.”
“Don't fret,” John assured you. “I'd offer to take a crack at your heater but I might make it worse.”
You smiled, torn between amusement and embarrassment. “It's fine, I think I'll just go find a space heater.”
John paused, not moving from your doorway, one hand hooked at the collar of his shirt, gaze fixed on you. “Or,” he offered slowly, weighing each word as he spoke. “You can stay at mine.”
You blinked. Twice. “...Beg pardon?” You must have misunderstood him. There was no way–
“I've got a second bedroom,” he said, shrugging, like it was nothing. Like it was that easy. “You're welcome to it. Be awful cold without heat.”
You swallowed. That was… a lot. And far too generous. “I couldn't, that's too kind.”
His lips quirked in a smile, the first real one you'd seen from him. “Yes you can,” he countered. “It's just a few days, yeah? Won't bother me, I wouldn't have offered otherwise.”
You bit your lip, torn. It would be warmer to stay with him, and cheaper. “Are you sure?”
“I'm sure.” He even nodded for emphasis, holding your gaze.
“Okay.” You breathed in slowly. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“Gather up whatever you need,” he said, something pleased in the tilt of his lips. “Just knock when you're ready.”
“Thanks.” You waited until he stepped back and turned towards his own door to close your door.
Not that it helped at all with the temperature.
Clenching your jaw and trying not to think about it, you grabbed a bag and some clothes. You weren't going to impose on him any more than necessary - you'd come back to shower and take care of your own things. And you'd be fine at work.
Your first knock on the door was tentative, almost too soft. You shifted your weight from foot to foot, a little anxious. You knew enough about John Price to trust that he wasn't a crazy murderer, or anything like that. He'd always been friendly.
You were mostly sure you could trust him.
The door opened, warmth spilling out over your half-frozen fingers. John had shed his jacket, leaving him in a soft-looking shirt that clung to his chest in ways you tried not to notice.
“C'mon in.” He stepped out of the way, ushering you in. You couldn't help but shiver as the warmth of his flat cocooned you, your skin tingling where it was exposed. “Bedroom's this way.”
You followed him quietly, though you couldn't help but look around curiously. The flat was sparse but clean, walls mostly bare. Simple furniture in the main room, very little decoration.
It felt a little impersonal… except for the book on the couch, the couple dishes in the sink.
John led you back to the bedroom, nodding you inside. The bed was made up all in pale blue, with an extra blanket folded at the foot of the bed. Honestly, this was better hospitality than you'd gotten from some family members.
“Thank you, really.” You paused in the doorway, still clutching your bag.
He smiled again, easy as anything. “My pleasure. Get warmed up, I've got the kettle on.”
You couldn't help but smile at his retreating back. He was too kind.
It didn't take long to warm up enough to be comfortable, and you even shed a layer to be more comfortable. “Should I keep my shoes on?” You called from the doorway, uncertain. You couldn't recall if he'd been wearing any.
“Nah, leave ‘em.”
You kicked your shoes off but left your socks, padding out to the kitchen to a charmingly domestic scene. John stood with one hip leaned against the counter, mug in one big hand, another steaming gently in front of him. He was also wearing socks, thick gray ones.
“Got milk and sugar, if you'd like.” He nodded to the mug to be clear what he meant.
“Thanks.” You fixed your cuppa and clutched it between your hands, fingers tingly-hot as they finally fully thawed. “Can I at least treat you to dinner?”
He tipped his head down a little, smiling. “Won’t say no to that,” he murmured.
Discussing food was surprisingly easy with him. He seemed happy to go along with whatever you wanted, although true to his word he didn't argue with you about paying.
The first night passed easily, with bits of conversation between the two of you. You caught him looking at you more than once, something soft in his gaze. Like he couldn't believe you were here.
You warmed under that gentle gaze, the little embers you'd tried to smother in your heart catching and trying to grow.
Two days passed in the same kind of ease. His flat was bigger than yours, and set up backwards as far as you were concerned. The second time you opened a door expecting the loo and got the linen closet you swore loudly. John just laughed at you, leading to a round of playful bickering.
(“It's not my fault that this is all backwards!”
“Well perhaps if you looked before you opened the door you'd realize it was on the wrong side.”
“Perhaps if this place was oriented correctly I wouldn't have to.”)
The two of you got along quite well, better than you'd expected. Better than you'd ever hoped. The ease with which the two of you conversed fanned the little flames secreted in your heart.
The fourth morning was clear and cold, faint light coming through the window in your room. You dressed, even more glad to be in John's nice warm flat when a perfunctory look out the window showed snow still falling.
“Morning,” John greeted you, flashing you a smile, hair still a little rumpled from sleep. You tried not to be charmed.
(It didn't work, you were hopelessly charmed by him.)
“Good morning.” You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. “How long have you been up?”
“Couple hours. Tea?”
You hummed your assent, though you drifted to the kitchen window to look outside. Snow drifted down in fat flakes, languidly coating the world in white. “How long has it been coming down?”
“Started in the middle of the night.” John pulled out the mug you were beginning to think of as yours. “Don't have to go anywhere today, do you?”
“Fortunately, no.” You shivered at the thought of having to go out in the cold. You kind of hated when it got this cold - the snow was pretty but ice made for treacherous commutes to work. “You?”
“No.” The mug clinked as he set it next to you. “Got everything I need here.”
You turned, just catching the tail end of his teasing little smile as he stepped back. You blinked at him but didn't push, not quite sure if you wanted to know.
Tea was perfect to keep you warm, and you settled near John. He shifted enough to press his knee to yours, and you just relaxed into it.
He'd gotten you used to little touches over the last few days, and you didn't quite want to admit how much you loved it.
“Care to make a day of it, then?”
You blinked at John, curious. “What do you have in mind?”
“We could watch that movie you've been wanting to watch.” John's lips twitched in amusement. “More tea. Order in for lunch.”
“You're going to spoil me,” you teased, although you were only half teasing.
“Only if I'm doing it right.” He smirked, watching you as you ducked your head, fiddling with your mug.
“You don't have to, you know.” You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gripping your mug a little tighter so you wouldn't fidget with it.
“What if I want to?” He tipped his head a little, watching you, blue eyes intense.
You warmed under that look but resisted the urge to hide. “Well… that would be a different story.”
Emboldened by your reaction, John moved closer, his thigh now pressed against the length of yours. “I'd like to spoil you for longer than just the few days it takes to get your heater fixed.”
“Would you really?” You blinked at him, a little incredulous and a fair bit flattered.
“I would.” One of his hands landed over yours, big and warm and calloused. “Would you let me?”
You swallowed. Part of you wanted to say yes, wanted to bask in the warmth of him, wanted to give in. But you were scared. There were so many things that could go wrong…
“I don't know,” you whispered, your fingers curling under John's. “I could try.”
“That's all I ask.” He leaned a little closer to you, so close he could probably feel the thump of your heart. “Just need to talk to me, hm? Tell me if anything is too much.”
You nodded, swallowing, eyes wide as he held your gaze. “Okay.”
“Good.” He backed off again, slowly pushing to his feet. “Go get the movie set up, I've got tea handled.”
You blinked, feeling almost bereft as he stepped away. But you shook the feeling off, instead going to the couch to set up the movie.
It only occurred to you long minutes later, when John brought your tea fixed how you liked, that you'd gotten very comfortable here very quickly. But so had John. He'd learned your preferences faster than you'd expected.
“Warm enough?” He asked, voice a low purr as he settled next to you.
“Yeah,” you answered, which was mostly true. Your feet were chilly, but that was manageable.
He eyed you for a moment, and you had the feeling he knew exactly what you didn't say. But he didn't say a word, just grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over your lap, fussing over you in a way totally foreign to you.
Foreign… but nice.
Halfway through the movie John paused it to discuss lunch. You ended up not ordering in - snow was coming down harder now, a thick coating of white obscuring streets and sidewalks. Neither of you wanted to go out, or force anyone else out.
“We'll find something here,” you said with a shrug, unconcerned. “I've got food at mine, too.”
John hummed, one arm settling around your waist. “Could do cheese toasties.”
“Are you offering to cook for me?” You couldn't help your smile, or the way you leaned in closer to him.
“Can’t make anything fancy,” he murmured, smile small but warm. “But I can do this.”
That smile finally did you in. You kissed him. Nothing more than a brief press of your lips to his, just enough to feel the warmth and pressure, the gentle scratch of facial hair. He looked a little stunned when you pulled back… for all of two seconds. Before he kissed you again, one big hand cupping your cheek.
“Is this okay?” He whispered when he pulled back, scant space between the two of you.
“More than,” you assured him, hands resting against his chest.
He hummed, the sound vibrating against your hands, and kissed you again.
If this is what him spoiling you looked like… Well. You could get used to this.
Even if it kept snowing like this. You weren't worried about being cold anymore.
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March Blessings For You 🍃🐇🍀
Sup y'all, welcome back to another pick a card reading. Rabbit rabbit for everyone as we head into March. Hope you enjoyed a good leap day and are excited to let the winter melt away into spring. I'm looking forward to changing things up around here.
I have finally decided on what my next tarot game will be about this month, so stay tuned within the following week or two. This game will likely not be as extensive as my last one, but it will last longer than my first game so more can join. I'm excited for this one, it'll definitely be more for fun. I'll send out a notice before I start it!
Today's pick a card reading is simply about what kind of blessings will be available for you this month. Here are the three piles to choose:
Pile 1 - Exquisite Emerald
Pile 2 - Pure Turquoise
Pile 3 - Jade Mountain
Pile 1
Emerald and Milk Thistle, Rescue, Avocado - Prosperity, The In-Between, 13 - Awareness; Knight of Swords, XX Judgement, Ace of Cups, 8 of Swords, 6 of Cups
How's it going, group 1? "Heal the Healer." I'm sensing that many consider you, or you consider yourself, to be a big helper for loved ones in daily life. The term "mom/dad friend" might sound familiar to you. Someone others can rely on, you're seen as a solid supportive friend in their regular troubles. Even with simple things like helping a friend move from their apartment, or getting a classmate's grade up in a class you excel with. At work, you may be the person others call on to take the extra shift. Sometimes, it was necessary, they had to take their pet in for an emergency. Other times, they just wanted a vacation and didn't really notice how taxing it was to ask so much from you.
Pile 1, March is the month to turn the tables around in time for the change of the season. "Help others in need or ask for assistance when you need it." You have the chance to ask someone else to help you out the same way you are often asked to help. March will bless you with the feeling of "having your back." The universe has been watching you struggle and is preparing your table for rewards to be served fresh. This help will likely come once you begin moving into a transitory phase. See how the Awareness card looks symmetrical to the In-Between card? These cards together remind me of the Moon card. You're in a state where one cycle has ended and another is beginning, you're already in that first phase so to speak. This space is full of uncertainty, and it's important to not listen to projections that speak of things as though they're going to happen just because they've happened before. The 6 of Cups involves overthinking about the past, assuming that things will be the same as they were before.
Allow the prosperous energy from Avocado to clarify the 8 of Swords here. You may be feeling stuck and unsure of where you're life is going next, but you know you can't enter the next chapter of your life worn out before you're even out of bed. Awareness features moonstone and mugwort on the card. You're being asked to pay attention to your dreams. Imagine what kind of prosperous things have happened in your past, and what kind of prosperity is available for you in the future, just before you fall asleep at night, then journal your dreams. Symbols may reveal themselves over time to give you clues for your conscious mind to consider. Your subconscious mind wants to help you with your stress, if that makes any sense, as it uses images and not words to speak.
Emerald is Venusian energy, and avocados are creamy enough to be made into dessert (ever had a chocolate avocado "cheese"cake? I have, it was actually very good!) March wants to bless you with a little indulgence. Ace of Cups says you will experience a lot of spiritual and emotional replenishment if you make it a focus to do so this month. If things are slow now, consider it a time of peace and budding opportunity. You may not be used to getting some needed rest if you're helping others out more, but the advice here is to take the time off as it comes, and make an intention to relax. Judgement card reminds you that the pace will pick up again soon, so enjoy some down time when you get it this March. Put some of that avocado on toast and enjoy your breakfast. Your body and soul will thank you.
Pile 2
Turquoise and Forget-Me-Not, Communicate, Artichoke - Renewal, Level Up, 9 - Self-Acceptance; 10 of Wands, Queen of Swords, I Magician, 10 of Swords, X Wheel of Fortune
Hey, pile 2. Hope you're doing well. I got a little concerned while shuffling the Earth Wisdom cards when the whole deck slipped and made a loud "thunk" on my table, right next to where the cracks in the Turquoise card. Do some of you live in a loud place, or near angry people who yell and slam doors? The dragon's face on the 10 of Wands looks like they're sick of hearing their neighbors upstairs. For others of you, this cracking is more internally. Do you feel as though you may be cracking under some kind of pressure at work or school? You may even be feeling the urge to let out a fiery rage breath as well.
The Turquoise card says "Balance". See the man rock climbing beside the cracks? It's easy to imagine he can keep going without stopping to catch his breath, but wouldn't that make him like Superman? This month, you'll be able to see exactly what you're capable of. You're recognizing your own talents and strengths. This is a month of learning how to do your best without wearing yourself thin, and it's because you're getting a more accurate picture of what you can do. It's like singing while having noise cancelling headphones in, so you can't hear yourself. March's blessing will take those headphones off so you can hear for yourself how good you sound. You'll see that you were trying harder than necessary. You can take a step back while still moving forward.
Turquoise is a stone well known in many cultures, but I personally read it as a stone of friendship. You'll be blessed with a good friendship or important connection, someone you can confide in with trust. "Things left unsaid will never reach the shore." With Queen of Swords, you're becoming more discretionary about your boundaries and who you speak with. You may have been going through troubles that are hard to talk about. The dragon's mouth is wrapped shut; it may have been a struggle even when you tried, as though you were scared of what your friend would think. Remember, pile 2, that a real friend will want to see you happy, will accept you for who you are, and will cheer you on as you climb to the top. Don't be afraid for long and much needed conversations in March, for as long as you approach it like the Queen here, a good talk will strengthen a relationship. And absolutely talk to someone if you're in need of immediate help, like with relocation.
March may be the start of a "phoenix" season for you, where you will have a gradually unfolding but nevertheless significant period of your life. See the subtle rainbow on the "100"? It was unintentional, the card reacted to my suncatcher and the rainbow just happened to land there glowing. If you're starting at a bottom, pile 2, then you're only going up from here, even if with some scars. Artichokes are actually immature flowers. The past cycle in your life may have felt "incomplete". March will be the beginning of you getting a second chance to let something like a project come into full bloom. Fun side note, but apparently March 16th is National Artichoke Day (in the US). So be on the lookout for an opportunity coming in for you around the 16th. It could be small, but it may be something that brings you into spring's energy of renewal and positive change. Don't forget to stay in touch with people who care about you this month, pile 2, because an outing with them could become a transformative experience for the both of you.
Pile 3
Jade and Pink Lotus, Generosity, Kale - Dedication, Letting Go, 21 - Shadow Treasures; XXI The World, 5 of Swords, XVI The Tower, XX Judgement, VIII Strength
Hello, group 3! March will be a refreshingly easy going month for you if you make the choice to kick back. You are "sinking into silence" after a long and very difficult time in your life. You, out of all three piles, desire to move forward with the year more than anyone. The silence in the jade card feels welcome. The change is long overdue and feels inevitable, so why rush to the starting line of a race? Especially after just finishing a few strenuous laps in the woods. This is a month-long sigh of relief. A quiet, easygoing time will be your primary blessing in March. Jade is bringing much due healing energy for you. Allow yourself the chance to meditate upon the time you've just experienced, as self-reflection can help us clear the way for us to see better.
I can't help but notice the way in which your cards form a picture of a tree falling apart. The leaves give way to autumn, as the trunk of the old fall maple tree lights up from the storms of change. At the roots, however, we see beauty still alive underneath. It shows that the same potential lies beneath, even if situations can look hopeless. Conflict was overgrowing around the tree, sapping it of its vitality. To let go and rebuild was the only way around it, to protect the delicate root system it had to downsize. A lot of growth will come from how you use this time now, because the last phase gave way for new seeds to grow. These seeds will no doubt benefit from what good was left behind, as it was ultimately meant to be shared and not kept hidden forever.
If this feels too abstract, I will liken it to decluttering the house. You may be in the mood to do that as well this month, and March may bless you with a more organized house. This is also a decluttering of old systems, thoughts, and behaviors that no longer work for you, letting you move ahead with a clean slate. If a messy house has been an issue for you, someone might come to help you sort it out, even spirit guidance kind of help. If clearing old things away is difficult, you'll be guided through it. You may have the opportunity to give old unwanted stuff away and even find something that you've been searching for a long time. "Where has that been?" It might not be easy to get started at first but it'll soon become much welcomed change once you notice the difference.
You have the word "treasure" show up twice in your reading. "What good is treasure if you keep it for yourself?" You may something special within yourself that gets discovered as you move through this month. It's a part of you that has gone unnoticed. But when things get quiet, the tiniest things become more noticeable. Things left unspoken creep out from the shadows. I actually don't see you going through shadow work this period, if anything you're walking from it the way a hero puts on sunglasses and walks away from a Michael Bay explosion without looking back. You've been like kale here, hardy in the face of a freezing winter, staying green in faith that spring will bring warmth and light soon enough. Some people don't believe kale has any nutritional value, but that's because they tastelessly judge from a distance. Once you unearth your own shadow treasures from your roots, don't be shy to share your gift with others. You might, like kale, become the next trend.
This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.
2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™
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Apollo + love at at first sight ?! It's cliche, corny and kinda dumb, but hell if I don't want to see what you can do with it cuz it's just too cute for me to not ask!
A coffee shop, the best part of Apollo's day. It's about four in the morning and there are currently two customers inside it. You and him.
You're perched on a squeaky chair, a cup of hot cocoa cooling in your hand as you type on your laptop with your other. One leg is folded under another, creating a half criss-cross and your hair is messy as you brush a piece out of your face. And like always, you're the first thing Apollo notices.
He comes here every morning to get a pick-me-up cup of Joe before the exhausting job of driving the sun and he's noticed that every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday, he can count on your presence by the window.
You're a college student; the constantly tired eyes, inevitable personal library and your university's name printed in bold on your sweatshirt prove it. Despite having all the reasons to be cranky, you're a wonderfully cheery and warm person.
Sometimes Apollo comes in before you and when that happens, he stands against the wall, sipping his to-go cup as he watches the door. When you come in, you wave at the workers and greet them by name, always finding his eyes and giving him a soft smile and a tilt of your head.
Gods, he's so in love with you. He has been since that Saturday you wandered in with books and stress piled in your hands. You had noticed him waiting for his order besides you and complimented his sun glasses.
"Do you not like the sun?" You followed it up with.
He chuckled, "Oh no, the sun is a beauty but I've got enough of it as is."
You gave him a curious grin, "I don't think I'll ever get enough of the sun. It's my favorite part of my day, you know, watching it rise in the sky."
His tan cheeks turned a shade redder than usual. "Is that so?"
"Yeah," Your name is called and you plucked your drink from the counter, "It reminds me of tomorrow. As long as the sun keeps coming up, I will always have another chance."
You handed him his cup that had been waiting patiently and unseen on the counter top and cheers-d him.
"I can see why you don't want it any more though," The words floated over your shoulder as you swayed to your already-claimed table, "You've got a nasty sunburn."
Apparently, his blush had been worse than he thought.
Today, you looked more relaxed than usual. You also looked like you got a full eight hours of rest, which was new. Apollo traced your figure with hearts in his eyes as he waited for his order.
You finished a sentence, took a swing of hot cocoa and looked up for the first time in ten minutes. Your eyes found his and instantly lit up, a gentle smile played on your lips as you gave him a short wave.
He took that as his cue to come over.
"Whatcha working on?" He asked once he was close enough, about a foot away from your table.
"My final for English. You have to write about something that inspires you." Apollo opens his mouth to talk but is interrupted by his name, echoed by a worker as they hold out his coffee. He excuses himself, and returns quickly with the cup pressed to his lips.
"So, what inspires you?" He asks, and he really wants to know.
"You."
His breath stops, he might've died if he was mortal. That's the power you have over him.
"Me?"
"You come here everyday. You wear the same clothes, same glasses, same expression. The decor changes from season to season, new workers come and go and new customers try new drinks. But you're constant."
His head is tilted as he looks down at you. You're sure of your assessment but it's not mean as you say it, your words kissed with your stunning smile as they leave your mouth.
"I'm constant." He repeats.
"I count on you, Apollo," It's the first time you've said his name, obviously knowing it from baristas. The effect is has on him is embarrassing, his cheeks burning easily, "You're what I know I will find in the morning. You're my sun, even if you weren't named after the god of it."
Suddenly, your cheeks redden as you realize what you've said to a practical stranger. Your eyes fall from where they had stayed on his up until now.
"I happen to be more than named after the sun god, but I appreciate the compliment." He gives you a shiny smile and you return it, albeit a littler shyer.
"And anyways, I feel the same about you. You make my mornings. At least, my mornings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays."
You giggle and meet his eyes again. Mirth, joy and something deeper dances in there and your smile grows. You reach across the table and move several books out of the way, gesturing for him to sit across from you.
Apollo places his to-go cup on the wood and plops down with a new conversation starter already on his tongue. The rest of the world could wait for him, but you've waited enough. And the sun always shines on those he loves.
#oph.posts#oph.thoughts#oph.anons#pjo hoo#pjo#pjo hoo toa#pjo fluff#pjo x reader#pjo x reader fluff#pjoverse#percy jackson series#apollo#pjo apollo x reader fluff#apollo x reader#pjo apollo#apollo x reader fluff#pjo apollo x reader#apollo fluff#pjo apollo fluff#pjo x you#pjo x you fluff#pjo x y/n#pjo x y/n fluff#apollo x you#apollo x you fluff#apollo x reader pjo#pjo apollo x you#pjo apollo x you fluff#pjo apollo x y/n
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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.
#jake seresin x reader#hangman x reader#house we share#jake seresin x you#hangman x you#gci3#good comes in 3
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rise donnie mating season head canons?
If you want only.
pfffft do i wanna think about rise donnie during mating season.... absurd....[tries to hide my sweaty palms]
so i go back and forth on how much turtle-brain gets activated, but regardless, donnie is a biter. (i mean. i think he's always a biter.) like, sink his teeth in to the point where it hurts, sometimes draws blood biting. and he's quite aggressive about putting you where he wants you, so if you move even a little bit, he's sinking his teeth and nails in to keep you in place.
i tend to think of it lasting about a week most times. it hits him a little slow, like he can feel it coming up on him a week or so before it's going to hit. before he had you to help him through it, it was a miserable experience. the whole time he's horny, nothing is scratching the itch properly, he just wants to get back to work. then you come into the picture, and oh, oh it's fucking incredible; there are a few little hiccups here and there i'll talk about later, but in general, he ends up really looking forward to it because afterwards he feels completely rejuvenated, like it's a new year and he's ready to go
sometimes... on my naughtier days........ i like to imagine that he's not really capable of hearing a safe word during the thick of things. and that really scares him a lot. the first couple of times, it scared you, too, just a little; but after a few seasons where you realized that hey, you're fully on board with everything he's got to offer, you talked about it and you're good to go. donnie's.... never really good to go, but he trusts you enough to know your limits.
the first time you have sex during mating season, it's still pretty normal. it's heating up in him, he's still got his brain in his skull, he's just uncomfortably horny. he tries to make it sweet bc he knows the absolute railing you're in for, and no matter how many years you go through it together or how many times you promise that you love it, he's always a little moody about how much he hurts you, and he likes to make up for it.
i headcanon donnie to be the king of giving head (helloooo sensory bliss), but i think this comes and goes during his heat. like, sometimes he gets his head between your legs and he is just fuckin down there for hours. you're going to cry. good chance you'll pass out. it's gonna be so much that you're not going to be able to handle it. and sometimes he's too busy stuffing you full to do anything but pin you to the bed.
most of the time, during his heat, he's got you face-down and fucking you from behind. it's how turtles do it, and that's what his little brain likes. though one time, very memorably, he missed his heat sneaking up on him and you started in a pool. somehow you managed not to drown, but the tumbling underwater with your boyfriend's dick what felt like up to your throat was a pretty great experience.
donnie is always noisy in bed. during his heat this continues, but he talks a lot more about breeding you. you ask him, once, afterwards if he has a kink and wants to explore it outside of his season; and he says no, not really, but something about the hormones in his brain just scream that he's gotta fertilize your eggs.
i picture donnie as a switch, but i think during his mating season that's out of the picture. he's fucking you, period. you're not going to be on top. you're not going to eat him out. he's going to be putting his dick inside of you, and that's where his come is gonna go. no eating it, no painting it anywhere, just inside.
after he puts his dick away for the last time and gets his brain back between his ears, the first thing he does is check and see how badly he's fucked you up. he bandages any wounds you haven't already tended to yourself, gives you a full body massage to work out the kinks of where he bent you in all kinds of funny positions, and then the two of you have a ritual where you take a bath together. it's really tender and sweet, and you scrub each other down and talk about what happened, what you liked, what you didn't like. then, while he goes off to get some food for the both of you (because he doesn't want you to leave his room where his brothers can smell you), you change the sheets on the bed, and after a quick snack the two of you collapse and pass out for like. twelve hours
#ask tag#i wanna write a mating season fic so bad u dont even know anon-chan#fragment tag#donatello/reader
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I'd almost be willing to forgive people being so defensive of abusive romantic relationships if the abuse was more subtle, since a problem in mainstream media is that abuse is only portrayed as screaming yelling and causing physical harm + very vicious in your face insults and demeaning or shaming them and if it's not like that the victim is just over reacting.
And then I remember the abusive relationships they all desperately defend aren't subtle. In fact that abuse is painfully obvious, but the show and fans sweep it under the rug and try to blame it on trauma or forget about it completely and its never criticised or even acknowledged by the characters.
My main two examples are Stolas and Catra.
Let's see here
First Stolas. His isn't quite as in you face but it should be at least a little obvious. The way he demeans Blitz, treats him like a toy, always calls him his little imp (which is very yikes), and oh uh idk literally r*pes him by withholding something Blitz literally needs to get the money to survive and only gives it when Blitz has sex with him, which Blitz has been blatantly not willing to do and incredibly unhappy about.
I literally do not care what you say. If the deal is "you have sex with me and in return I'll give you the thing that will keep you alive" and the other person is extremely unwilling but is backed into a corner, it. Is. Rape.
That's honestly main problem with them.
But no. He's an a soft traumatised owl and Blitz is in the wrong for not giving him time of day or being open with him.
Now Catra.
Oooh Catra
"She's not abusive! She's a traumatised victim fighting in a war!"
Second part correct, first part not so much.
I have more to say here because her actions are much more in your face
Firstly she is often yelling/screaming at Adora, ripping apart her self esteem and calling her stupid (something which Adora comes to believe) and many other pretty shitty things you should not be saying to someone you've supposedly loved since the start. And she continues calling Adora stupid even during her confession.
Catra is constantly shaming and guilt tripping Adora. Repeating her "You left me!" jargon after Adora has given chance after chance, begging her to come with so they can stay together. And many times it is Catra doing the leaving. She has abandoned Adora in perilous situations multiple times.
Physical harm is everywhere. Yes they're on opposite sides of war. But notice how Adora is reluctant to fight Catra and when she does she tries to take her out in as non violent of a way as possible?
Catra does none of that. In fact, she treats Adora 10x worse than the enemies she barely knows, purposefully targeting Adora with her claws and attacking her, laughing in sheer joy as she tortures her in multiple different ways across the seasons. Even before Adora left the Horde, Catra is constantly manhandling her, yanking her around by the hair, tazing her and other actions like that.
Adora has scars on her back from Catra's claws.
Yes Catra had a redemption as poor as it was. Yes she loves Adora (apparently). Yes she had a traumatising upbringing.
But that does not make her actions okay.
No matter how many good reasons you have or how sorry you say you are, it doesn't make beating, torturing and tearing down the self esteem and mental health of your other half okay.
Even if Catra stopped (and she did not), Adora shouldn't have been painted as the one in the wrong in the series. Adora shouldn't have had to be the one to apologise (yes Catra apologised but only when she thought she was dying) and Adora shouldn't have gotten into a relationship with her abuser.
Spop had the perfect opportunity to show that, even if a person is traumatised and says they're sorry, its okay to walk away.
It's okay to care about your own wellbeing over theirs when they do nothing but treat you like trash.
You don't have to forgive them.
You don't have to return their feelings.
Sometimes it's better for the both of you to separate.
But they didn't.
Instead Catra can do no wrong. She's forgiven instantly. They never bring up the lives she's destroyed, the people she killed- including Glimmer's mother. She's just a soft baby who's actually not that bad and Adora is a terrible person for leaving the Horde after learning it was lying to them and committing mass genocide >:/... and an idiot for not noticing that the woman who tears her down and beats her is in love with her.
And I know HB is going to go down this route too, but with significantly worse storytelling
And that almost frightens me
How can I expect subtle abuse to be tackled in any way when in your face abuse like this is romanticised?
#hazbin hotel critical#helluva boss critical#vivziepop critical#spop critisism#spop critical#anti catradora#not very coherent but oh well#tw rape
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SENTENCE MEME
THE GOLDEN GIRLS / SEASON 01 EPISODES 03 + 04
you know i'm whacked out on medication.
i like being whacked out.
would you please be a friend and go out with him?
i'd really love to go, but as you can see i'm busy.
we're playing cards and she stinks at it.
tonight, the years of humiliation ends.
i'm so scared, my dentures are chattering.
are you up for a night on the town with two handsome, eligible bachelors?
i'm not that interested in dating anymore.
everyone seems so ordinary after [name].
i'm gonna regret this and i know i'm gonna have a miserable time, but i'll go.
why do you look so depressed?
i'm tired of going out and not enjoying myself.
nothing could be more fun than beating her at cards tonight.
you're too competitive.
next time, i'm gonna date both brothers before i give one away.
i haven't laughed so much or acted so silly since i was a teenager.
he is the most outrageous, unpredictable man i have ever met.
i think it's terrific that you had a good time tonight.
take a cold shower and go to bed.
it looks like you two are getting pretty serious.
if the situation is right, you'll know it.
if you take chance in life, sometimes good things happen, sometimes bad things happen, but if you don't take a chance, nothing happens.
if you like me, it's for who i am, not for who i remind you of.
we could finally consummate our long and burning passion.
i think you'd better take a sedative before you look.
you couldn't possibly look terrible to me.
you'd just make love and feel lousy?
for fun, i ate onion sandwiches.
whatever you want to do is fine with me.
you're the only one who gets any enjoyment out of it.
i don't want anybody asking embarrassing questions.
some women don't kiss and tell.
most of the boys i dated in college were just for the stories.
it's a nice feeling, that when one part of your life is over, another part can begin.
how can you hate your sister?
we cannot have a baby in this house.
when she was born, i ceased to exist.
he used to call me the bad seed.
i'm sure my heart stopped beating for a minute.
i just didn't think you'd recognize good taste.
i wonder what she wants, the conniving little witch.
we never held a real conversation our entire lives.
to the beginning of a new and wonderful relationship.
you just step on any kind of tender moment.
i can't believe that you're still crazy about that.
i looked just like a swamp frog.
i'm in a no-win situation here.
either way, no matter what i do, i'm gonna lose something.
i only hear from him at christmas when he sends me a cheddar cheese nativity scene.
it's a terrible choice i've given you.
i don't even know what i would do under the same circumstances.
whatever happens, i love you.
then he called me an idiot.
she's an awful, selfish, neurotic woman.
sometimes you have to almost lose somebody before you realize how much they really mean to you.
let's go out and celebrate life.
let's go out and do something crazy.
#sentence meme#rp meme#sentence starters#roleplay meme#starter sentences#starter meme#rp sentences#rpc#sentence prompts#sentence prompt
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Hey, Zep! Here’s a hard question: which fic did you enjoy the most when writing?
Hey there, lovely!
Ooh, that's super freakin' tough. I've written quite a lot, and I have many "favorites" for different reasons. Like I answered another anon earlier today, I absolutely loved writing Smoke Eater, for example, but it did get difficult for me at times due to the complexity of the story and sometimes the gravity of the subject matter.
That said, I'll give you a short list of my favorites (series):
3. Take Me Home (Beau Arlen x Reader)
Ah, the Big Sky fandom! This is the most recent series I've written, and I've had so much fun with it as I continued to learn Beau's character and navigate season 3 of the show, trying to fill in the blanks that the show left behind while adding my own spin to certain things.
Beau is my favorite cowboy sheriff, but he's not without his flaws, which made for a rich exploration of his character. ❤️
2. Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina Reader)
This is a collection of stories in the SPN fandom, and it's very personal to me! (I myself am both plus-sized and Latina.) Though I tried to make it so all readers, regardless of race/ethnicity or otherwise, could enjoy those stories as well.
It gave me the chance to pair Dean with a reader character who is also a giver like him, who looks out for and cares for him in the same way he cares for others, all while being a badass hunter herself.
From dramatic and angsty hurt/comfort to fluffy smut, I've tried to explore many facets of their relationship, while utilizing both my heritage/culture and my personal experience with body insecurity, body shaming, etc. 💜
1. Break Me Down (Soldier Boy x Reader)
People probably know me best for this series. It was my first real foray into the complex, lovable asshole known as Soldier Boy (Ben).
And it was my attempt at creating a redemption arc for him through an "enemies to lovers" story, edgier than anything I'd done previously, thanks to the grittiness of The Boys world.
I've continued writing far past the original series because I just can't quit these two, and this version of Ben. (In fact, a new one-shot is coming for the BMD-verse on Friday called Calculated Risks, followed by a mini series in May! 💚)
And there are even more BMD requests in my inbox for when I'm able to get to requests again. So as long as people keep wanting to read about them, I'll keep writing about them! 😂
Thank you very much for this question! It was very difficult to choose. If you'd asked me which "one-shots/imagines" were my favorites, that would've been even harder to narrow down. 😅
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x plus sized!reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester fanfiction#the boys#soldier boy#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy x you#soldier boy fanfiction#soldier boy x female reader#beau arlen#beau arlen x reader#beau arlen x you#big sky#beau arlen fanfiction#jensen ackles#ask me stuff#zepskies answers
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Shoto. T x Fem. Black Ex Villain Reader
🎶Guess who's back? Back again. Guess who's back, guess who's back— 🎶 Edit: Lemme know if y'all want more oneshots on their lovestory and such (50 notes if you want a back story, if you pass it by even one, I'll give you a backstory and a smut if you want it.)
☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆
Rainy Days
Warning(s): Fluff, (hints at suggestive language) adult Shoto
You and Shoto's dating life after you leave your villianous past behind.
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
When you wake up, the first thing you see is hetrochromatic eyes already looking at you.
"Good Morning, [Name]."
"G'Mornin," you mutter into a pillow (his intense gaze with no preparation led to you resetting there).
"Your sleep talking is cute every time."
"Ony yud tink tat (Only you'd think that)." You finally turn to meet his eyes, "Want breakfast?"
He nods, "I've been hungry for a while."
You groan as you roll out of the bed, shuffling on some slippers, "Why didn't you wake me up sooner, Sho?"
"You looked peaceful. I could wait," as he got up to follow you, he re-tied his pajama pants.
As you made your way to the kitchen, you yawned, grabbing all the dishes you needed robotically; it was like a seamless routine.
Shoto made himself helpful and helped grab ingredients (which also subtly hinted at what he wanted).
Once everything was set out, he obediently sat at the kitchen island and watched you.
At this point, you'd taught him a little about cooking...but Shoto couldn't be awesome at everything.
After years of teaching him, he'd only managed to master eggs, toast, tea, and cutting vegetables on a good day.
The minute he started your playlist, you sang along like it was your duty as an R&B nerd.
And as he watched you in your element in his kitchen, he felt glad that you were given another chance.
His gaze went down your figure, from your blindingly beautiful smile and plump lips that he could never stop finding attractive no matter how much time passed...
To your hips that swayed with your head to the music; your legs that he loved to hold and have around his—
"Why're you looking at me like that?"
His eyes slid up to meet yours, "I just...I glad that you're with me. I love you."
You didn't know how those three words still managed to fluster you after years.
You smiled, "I love you, too. Wanna try this? See if there's too much seasoning for you?"
Shoto chuckled, "I've been with you long enough to handle some seasoning by now, [Name]."
But he didn't object to being fed, of course he didn't. He loved your soul food no matter what time of day it was.
He was glad that the others weren't here to see this time, sometimes the whole 'you two are a married couple' teasing would get on his nerves.
Let him get spoiled from his Queen in peace.
As he thoughtfully chewed, you kissed his forehead and got back to work.
"Should we go out today?"
"You might want to wear more than just my shirt before we do that."
You rolled your eyes, "Obviously. I hate to see what you'd do if anyone else saw me like this but you."
He stared at you in silence for a long time, you didn't realize he was until you placed the plate in front of him.
Not a twitch.
"Shoto?"
"Hm?" he blinked back to reality. (Oh, there goes gravity.)
"You okay?"
"I was thinking about what I'd do...Probably not the best thing to happen."
You weren't any less confused as he got to eating.
"What does that mean—?”
"—It'd be better if you didn't know."
Well, okay then...
"Besides, it's raining. There's nowhere to go."
Only now did you notice the rain pounding on the window.
"And on your day off, too..."
You felt fingers intertwine with yours before lips brushed against your knuckles.
"That's okay. We don't need to go out for me to enjoy time with you. Last night, for example—"
"—Anyway. We could watch a movie or binge a show."
"If we get to cuddle, deal."
Cuddling was admittedly Shoto's favorite form of physical affection with you.
He loved the way your head fit perfectly in the crevice of his shoulder and head.
He loved the smell of your shampoo while your hair brushed his cheek.
He loved that the curve of your body fit into his, he loved your warmth.
He loved the little whispers of love and affection passing your lips.
He loved the soft neck kisses.
Your nails grazing his back.
He loved your random muttering in English, hearing the slang he understood, the slang he didn't.
He loved the intimacy, he loved how close he could be to you. The pure affection. Something he'd craved for a long time.
He loved the vulnerabilty.
He loved what it represented, the first time the two of you cuddled after a long night of talking.
He loved the trust. The safety.
He loved cuddling with you because you were truly his home.
He needed you.
Absentmindedly, he began to kiss your neck as he went deeper into thought.
More than he realized sometimes.
His friends made him learn what friendship was.
But you taught him what love was like.
"S-Shoto?"
He handn't realized his hands had traveled.
"Yes?"
"What happened to inocently watching the movie?"
He smiled into his shirt, "I never said anything like that...besides, what else is there to do to repay you for the breakfast?"
Ahhh.
Shoto loved rainy days.
#todoroki imagines#anime#bnha#shoto bnha#mha fluff#shoto mha#shoto x reader#shoto x black.reader#x black reader#black reader x anime#x black fem reader#shoto x fem reader#todorokix fem reader#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#shoto todoroki#fluff
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Brocedes hasnt been brocedes all year. Its just a lot more ovi now. We got a certified nico lewis situation at merc. Toto picking the wrong guy once again. Whats new?
Okay first of all I wanna say this can't be a Nico - Lewis situation. There will never be a Nico - Lewis situation again. But I guess what you mean is there's an open, direct rivalry at Merc again. Which. Yeah sure. That's usually what happens. I'm not surprised it's happening, we mentioned it before.
(long post)
I'm not sure what you mean by 'Toto picking the wrong guy once again'. If you mean in the context of hiring George, I disagree because George is a very good driver. If you mean in the race, I highly doubt Toto is the one making the strategy calls in the middle of things. At the very most, the strategists tell him the options and he might green-light one of them.
They've been having strategy issues for a while now. That's also something we've talked about before. If anything, I'd say the issue lies with the strategy team rather than Toto or George. We've said the bad calls were hidden by the good car performance before but also I do think it's gotten worse. Back when it was announced that Vowles was leaving, I said not directly replacing him was bullshit. They claimed the rest of the department would just divide Vowles' workload between themselves. Toto said they'd been doing it already during the '22 season (when did the strategy issues ramp up? idk). What I said at the time was "someone is going to have to make the final decision on strategy" and "otherwise it's not gonna work". It might just not be working.
One thing I'll give credit to George for is that he's trying things. Hasn't there been a convo in the last few weeks with people (including me iirc) saying Merc is too conservative with the strategy? That they need to stop acting like they're at the front, defending rather than behind, chasing? Also isn't it kinda boring when the team doesn't give the car that's qualified behind a chance and only uses it to support the other? (Also with his quali performances lately, wouldn't that do more harm to Lewis than George?) I guess it's just the way being a fan goes, but I feel like every race weekend I see fans of either driver defending what or complaining about what they were complaining about or defending the previous race, depending on who they're rooting for the most. It's okay when it's their blorbo only (which again : just being a fan).
Anyway props to George for being a driver, and asking for more. That's his job. Sometimes it annoys me ngl. Sometimes I feel like he's acting too entitled during the races. But as I also said before, it's not particularly unexpected from a young driver. Lewis was really not that different in his days lol. They all have a chip on their shoulder and they are all essentially starving egotistical cunts. The older ones might just have learnt to hide it slightly better through the years. Slightly. Is Lewis being more of a team player? On track, probably so, props to him for that. Don't know how long it's gonna last in these conditions though, given that he's also a starving egotistical cunt. Off track, he's complaining very loudly and unsubtly about not being prioritised by the team in a not-so-great way imo. I'm repeating myself yet again but it's not as easy as just saying here's what needs fixing with the car, then claiming they're not listening to him when it doesn't suddenly work. Merc is truly fumbling with the development, and patience is not Lewis' greatest virtue lol. He's clearly getting frustrated with the performance, understandably so. I'm simultaneously pretty sure that's true for the whole team, not just him. So him saying they're not doing their best and voluntarily just not doing what he wants is probably not helping.
I do think that the team is gonna have to find a way to make it work between them two on track before they take each other out or straight up disobey team orders out of hunger or frustration. But well. Do I have to link the essay again? (Sorry for bringing it up 10 times a week.) It's not that easy managing intra-team rivalries and I see some people claiming they should pick a n°1 driver but how? Right now, Lewis and George are on par in quali (8-8). George has less points for sure but you also gotta take into account that he's had four terrible races in the year, not always by his fault (although sometimes yes). Outside of these four races, their results are very similar. This is not a Max-Perez type of gap by far. Lewis is most probably not gonna stay for 10 more years despite what he sometimes likes to pretend, George might. I'm still rooting for Lewis first and everybody else second but if you look at this realistically, it's not as simple as saying to George "look we're betting on you for the future, someday, but until Lewis retires you'll always be a second thought to us. But you know, still stay with us and take it lying down. Toodles!" He's completely right about it, but it's easier for Lewis to say "we're fighting for the team not for driver points" when he's the one ahead in the standings. Because what? You always always have to do better than your teammate. (Again, sorry for bringing it up constantly.)
In some way the issue with both of them is impatience. Lewis is impatient to have a good car again and he's starting to somewhat take it out on the team which isn't ideal. For all they looove saying we win and we lose together, that's not a supportive behavior claiming publicly they're just not listening to him. George is impatient to get track position and to beat his team-mate and he's rushing the racing too much, making rookie mistakes in the process (see Singapore) and demanding sometimes more than his due during races.
So yeah I think they need to rein them both in — one off track, one on track — but also without rejecting all new ideas and all questioning, both when it comes to the car and when it comes to the race strategy. It's not gonna be easy, but it's definitely gonna be very interesting.
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About my "Never Be The Same" (NBTS) Limoreau fic:
Just realized I've been mentioning it but did really go into what it's about/the basic idea of it. I've been writing this fic since January when a friend convinced me I should write it. It's the Limoreau/Gen V fic I wanted to read, and I had never really written a fic (that I planned on posting) before, which is why I've been holding on to it/working for a while now. I want it to actually be good. Or at least consumable, lol.
↓
So yeah, basically, it's a cannon divergence from the finale of the first season (no white room), basically picks up a couple of days after the events of the finale. I wanted to write a fic about what it would be like if they had a chance at a "normal" life. Or as normal as it can be. Vought still exists and they're still a bunch of bastards, but Jordan and Marie's goals are no longer aligned with wanting to be in The Seven. Emma has a chance to do things how she wants to (none of the bullshit with her mom and Vought). And Andre also has an interesting arc going on imo.
It's gonna be a long, multi chapter fic. There will be time skips. Basically working our way through their lives, with a special focus on Marie and Jordan and how their relationship unfolds as they grow up and find their places in the world, growing into their own people and all that jazz. There will be angst!!! So much that I start out with a lot of soft fluff shit, lol. But by chapter 6 / 7 angst starts coming in full force. Which is fun for me, but yeah. There will be tears, I apologize.
So yeah, we're (Jordan and Marie) will go through some shit, but don't worry, eventually things even out and we get to see how they are together as proper adults with, like, fully developed brains and maybe some therapy skills. We love that for them.
Emma's gonna be fine. Doing great actually. She deserves it.
And I don't want to give too much away about Andre quite yet. Gonna have to wait and see for that.
(Vought being a bastard is a big theme in the first saga [for lack of a better term], but we deal with that too, trust.)
(right place, wrong time, is also an overarching theme for the lovely couple.)
That's about as much as I can say to sell you on reading this fic, lol. I've just been working really hard on it and I've had a lot of support and help from a good friend ( @paperdoll201 , love you 💜) along the way. And according to them it's a good read so far, which is great to know. So yeah, like I said before I'm gonna start releasing chapters after I reach a certain checkpoint in the story (when the angst hits hard), which is basically already done with. (like a chapter or two left to write).
So I think I can say with certainty that I'll start releasing chapters sometime next month. So I hope it's worth the wait and the hype I'm giving it, lol. Even if it's not, I hope at least someone enjoys the read. This ship has me by the neck, I'm only doing what the dreams are telling me to do.
(there's also a playlist attached that I'm working on organizing so you can get those vibes . Lol.)
Keep writing. Keep reading.
Much love. 😎👍❤️
-PB
[P.s. check out my Masterlist for all the fic stuff I've made/ am currently working on]
#gen v#genv#gen v spoilers#gen v fic#limoreau#limoreau fic#jordan li x marie moreau#marie moreau x jordan li#mariejordan#mariejordan fics#fic progress#my fic#fic update#jordan li#marie moreau#emma meyer#andre anderson#im trying something with him trust me#vought is a bastard with no friends#my first fic#technically#Venus is a cool person#and a much better writer#you shold check out their stuff#Never Be The Same fic#nbts fic#welcome to my sales pitch#we write to fight the depression#this ship gives me life#pb writes
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You know, I was wondering:
If canon stopped at Je Souhaite and CC wrote the Revival later (but excluded William-Jackson and the mytharc), I wonder how much more... I don't know, plausible? it would be?
The problem with the Revival-- or why I never got into it-- was that so many out-of-character moments had to happen (S9 mostly) in order to set it up; and it never seemed worth my effort to watch. But I have IWTB locked and loaded for later this month; and I began to wonder if the Revival would have made more sense if Mulder had become lost in his obsession/depression after Colonization didn't happen, period, sometime after Je Souhaite; and the two being torn apart because of his tendency to withdraw into himself. I always thought that, even though they'd lost their son canonically, it was a factor that bound he and Scully tighter together; and their will-they-won't-they post S9 never rang true to me. I do factor in the need for space especially if Mulder won't/can't listen (precedent being set in Syzygy and Never Again and One Son etc.); but the reasons given (or not) for each "breakup" weren't... dealt with very well.
And maybe it's just me but some conversations in the Revival would have made more sense? if Mulder and Scully had never had kids and were happy but their happiness was shattered here and there because of Mulder's obsessions and regrets and not because Scully gave it all up but still walked away from him twice. (Plus One I think? was the "what if you get married and have kids" convo, and wouldn't that have been an interesting twist if Jackson wasn't a part of their history?)
ANYWAY. Ramble aside, I'll probably have more thoughts after IWTB... which should be interesting because I'm skipping right over S9 (so that my brain keeps it firmly in the AU category.) And IF that goes well, I miiiiiiiiiiiiight? dip into the Revival episodes that have nothing to do with the mytharc or William? Maybe? (Maybe not. XDD)
Is there a will-they-won't-they situation with them? To me there isn't. It might seem that way because CC didn't come right out and showed them as a couple in IWTB cause he wanted the audience to be surprised or something. But their love and what they feel for each other and that they both wanted to be together (and were) was never in question for me. And there is a lot of what you say in IWTB. Mulder and his obsessions and how that might drive a wedge between him and Scully.
As for the breakup in the revival, it just wasn't done well if you ask me. Like it's mentioned and then next episode, their dynamic is as it always was and you completely forget about it for the most part. There are a few mentions and in fact, there are a few great things in the revival.
The Plus One conversation - to me - was so misplaced in that episode. They were so beyond that point. It's a conversation they should have had in IWTB maybe. They were in their 50s (!) and talk about what "what if you meet someone and have a family". Sorry but that doesn't work for me.
The whole thing was clunky and just a way for CC to let Mulder and Scully have sex. Even without William/Jackson, that conversation happened too late for me. Cause it's never about what COULD have happened but what can still happen. And they're just too old for me for that at that point.
I think you can easily watch IWTB without having seen season 9. The only episodes you really need knowledge of to watch it are The Truth and maybe William.
I say give the revival a chance. You can always put it into AU category if you hate it :D
#lovely asks#i get angry just thinking about plus one lol#iwtb looks at mulder and scully more closely#i mean to me it's still not done well#but at least there's some exploration of who they are and why they do what they do
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How would the various companions react to like during the escape of vault 114 skinny Malone shouts out to his goons "I want that Twink obliterated" at nick
Cait : She gives Nick a nasty glare but crosses Sole's nervousness. She doesn't like this phoney detective who looks down on her, but she doesn't want Sole to feel guilty.
"Don't worry, they'll try; they'll just run into me and my bat on the way."
Codsworth : "We'd better save ourselves as soon as possible!"
Nick casts a glimpse towards the robot accompanying his saviour. "Why? They never threaten you. They're looking for me."
"However, you are Mum/Sir's only hope of finding young master Shaun. We're not going to let them get to you that simply!"
Nick can't help but smile at the robot, which undoubtedly conveys the background thinking of Sole, who rushes into position, weapon in hand.
Curie : "Doux Jesus!" she said. "This man is terrible! Shouldn't we... flee to avoid them?"
"Not a bad idea," says Sole. "However, Nick, you remain well ahead in sight. I didn't come all this way to have holes drilled in you on the way out."
"What about me?"
"Run with him, and I'll cover you."
Danse : "Tactically, it would be more prudent to abandon the synth. We already have enough on our plate without having to defend this individual against a horde of assailants."
"This synth is my one and only chance to find my son!"
Danse sighs as he looks down at Sole.
"Proceed, I will shield you with my armor. But if you attempt to do it backwards, synth, I'll get out of their way, and we'll have to find another way to find Sole's son."
Deacon : His brows appear over the rims of his glasses, but his demeanour remains unaltered as he gives Sole a little hand gesture to proceed forward. Deacon disappears into the shadows as Sole go further with Nick behind them. While Nick and Sole are walking towards the exit, they hear some dry detonations followed by silence. Deacon rejoins the two fugitives on their level.
"They're not going to chase you anymore, Nick," Deacon says.
Dogmeat : He doesn't know what it's about, but his master goes to this detective, whom he sometimes hang with, and both appear to be afraid of something. The dog's hair rises on the back, and he turns toward the fierce energy with a growl. Men approach with a sinister expression. Dogmeat will shred them all.
Elder Maxson : He dislikes Nick Valentine. He dislikes being persuaded to do this with Sole. He has no idea how this happened. (Possibly due to the fact that the Prydwen never arrived in the Commonwealth at this point 😅😉 ) But one thing is certain: he despises losing his goal to the adversary. He spins around in an instant and charges, not like a fool, but like in a true guerrilla, using the shadows to set up ambushes where raw force or gunfire are insufficient. The poor triggermen have little chance against such a smart tactician, who is equally good at conceiving and executing a strategy.
Hancock : "They don't know who they're dealing with!" he exclaims.
And before Sole or Nick can react, he leaps into the melee, dodging gunfire and splitting the stomachs with his knife without hesitation. Nick and Sole make it their business to complete what little work remained. But the mayor can become feral whenever he wants, and threatening one of his buddies brings out the worst in him.
Gage : He casts a mocking glance towards Sole.
"I told you it was a bad plan from the start!"
"I require the services of this detective. We must prevent them from killing him."
"You need that detective. I need an Overboss. But I'm not going to let a gang of triggermen kill me for this, Overboss. You'll meet me at Nuka-World when you remember what your interests are."
He walks away without saying anything else. He's a raider, you know. Loyalty is not something they have a reputation for. (After all, even if you romance him, he is the first to shoot you in Open Season)
MacCready : "It smells like bone."
"If we don't help him, I'll never find my son."
"Two or three hundred more caps and—"
"Wait, are you negotiating at this time?" exclaim Sole.
"There will never be another better time."
"150, and we have a deal."
"Are you serious?" ask Nick, becomeing irritated.
"Sold! Pointe, I fire."
And, needless to say, there is no longer a triggerman to chase a now taciturn Nick who can't believe his life has been negotiated down.
Nick Valentine : He gives Sole a look of concern. That was something he should have expected. Honor is always last on the agenda with individuals like Malone. He raises his weapon and prepares to protect his life, but to his surprise, Sole also shoulders.
"Wait, you're not fleeing? They're looking for me."
"I also require your assistance. Furthermore, there is no need to investigate who is good and who is bad."
The detective says nothing as the exchange of fire begins, but even after the final triggerman has ceased breathing, he continues to ponder about the moment when Sole, a stranger to him, risked their lives for his synthetic skin.
Piper : "Things are getting complicated," she observed.
"You can go, I'll cover your back," Sole replies.
"Don't you think about it seriously? Do you believe this is the most dangerous situation I've ever encountered? Anyway, I'm not giving up Nicky that lightly."
"Wow, Piper, I'd almost be flattered," Nick says, taken aback.
"Don't think too much," she advised. "It's only a matter of ethics."
Preston : "Who do they think they are?" He asks. "We made a deal, and we stuck to it!"
"You can have fun explaining it to them once they put holes on me like a sieve," Nick replies sarcastically.
"Who do you believe I am? We didn't come to pull you out of there and watch you die!"
Sole doesn't waste time debating and rushes into position, ready to receive the triggerman. Preston covers their back and shoots enthusiastically. When there are no more triggermen standing, he moves closer to the nearest body.
"Adhere to the terms of any deal you make. Honor is what keeps a man up when he has nothing else."
Strong : "AAAAAAAAAAARH!" he shouts.
No wondering which side he's on. Sole wants the detective; the men want to kill the detective. Strong kills the men. Strong is powerful. Strong defends Roboman. That’s all.
X6-88 : "I would strongly suggest that we abandon this obsolete model, which appears to be accumulating more and more problems, and instead utilize the Institute's resources in order to achieve your objective."
"What are you doing here???!!"
#fallout 4#fallout#fallout 4 companions#fallout 4 reactions#fallout companions#fo4#fallout 4 react#sole survivor#danse#nick valentine#reactions#reaction#deacon fallout#deacon fallout 4#fallout 4 deacon#fallout deacon#fallout maccready#fallout nick valentine#fallout4#codsworth#fo4 hancock#dogmeat#cait#preston garvey#john hancock#curie fo4#fallout 4 curie#x6 88#piper wright#curie
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hi could you please write a part 2 to the sonny cheating on y/n scenario
Part 1
There is clearly something wrong with Sonny, going from being the season's top scorer to still not having a goal in the current one has everyone thinking. They talk about the World Cup, how that season's schedule torn up by that major commitment brings problems and thoughts to most great players. They talk about fatigue, everyone saw how he carried the whole team's results on his shoulders in the previous season. But nobody is entitled to know the truth.
Even during the World Cup he did not get the result he had hoped for, or rather the result that others had attributed to him knowing his potential. But the group was made up of tough teams, his head tried to stay focused, failing most of the time, and in addition that damn mask undermined his sanity even more.
There were times when it seemed he couldn't even breathe, he lost his temper too easily and everything bothered him. Everything was too much: too many people to deal with, too many things to do, too many interviews, too many matches, too many worries about that mask and the little injury, too many times to pretend everything was fine.
Too much silence from you.
Sometimes he told himself that if only he could hear you, even breathe through the phone, everything would be more manageable. Instead, he'd tried to send you a few messages, but of course you hadn't replied, so calling wasn't even an option.
You had followed every game, on the edge of your seat until the last second because one goal could change everything. But you had suppressed the urge to congratulate him, your brain still tangled and you didn't want him to get a different idea from yours.
You had to appeal to all your willpower not to hear from him, not to give in. Because at the end of the day you still cared about him, and a lot, but you couldn't get past all that. He had taught you how to breathe, but he was also the one who had took it away.
It was all such a big mess, you still couldn't get over how he could do such a thing. It's true that things always come from those you least expect.
And then the tournament for his team was over and it was time for him to go home. You had thought about it too, whether you should be there or whether a few more days' separation had also helped him now that he really had a chance to rest and think.
Eventually you had packed your bags and gone home, yours and Sonny's home. You didn't have a clear head, but it was certainly clearer than before. You couldn't stop thinking about him, no matter how much it weighed on you to put your pride aside and admit you missed him. It wasn't like you to give in at the first setback, you wanted to fight for the thing you cared about and for which you had made many sacrifices, even moving away from your family.
You wanted to understand first of all, to understand why and what had driven him to do it without fear or fear of feeling all that pain again. You had to work out together whether your relationship could be saved or whether it was better to take two different paths. It was not something you could have done alone by ignoring him.
When the front door closes behind him, he hardly connects that the lights are on because you are there. When he finds you in the kitchen he thinks his mind is playing tricks on him. Instead you smile at him tentatively and he lets his duffle bag drop to the floor with a dull thud before approaching you. You allow yourself to be wrapped in his arms, deeply breathing in his scent that you admit you missed.
He almost doesn't want to talk, afraid of ruining everything. Just having you there gives him hope. You are the one to pull away and put a few steps between you, in the air a sort of awkwardness that hasn't been there since the first few months of your relationship.
"How have you been? How are your parents?"
"They're fine, they say hello and send you congratulations on the tournament"
He mentions a smile, "Thanks, maybe I'll give them a call later"
More silence.
"Um are you tired? Do you want-?" but he immediately interrupts you shaking his head. "I just want to talk to you, I want you to listen to me and I want us to try to work this out. If you want too" in his eyes and in his tone of voice you can hear hope and also anxiety about a possible rejection on your part.
But you just nod, you have already given it all your energy and no longer have the strength to shout, cry or beg. You are there to listen and understand now, to understand if a future with him is still written or is what you want.
#son heung min#son heung min one shot#son heung min imagines#son heung min imagine#football imagine#football imagines
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THINGS I REALLY WISH GARM HAD THE BRAINCELLS TO WISH FOR USING THE MEGA WEAPON...
(I'm just pissed someone got their hands on a wish granting souvenir and basically... wasted it)
1. A wish to instantly turn Ninjago into his image. - (sighs) My man did everything he could to get to that point without just wishing for it instantly himself and taking the easy route. I fucking love this guy. ❌
2. A cure for the goddamned venom. - you'd think this one would be the most obvious of them all right? But apparently our Dark Lord didn't see that it was so here we are. (Though, sometimes I headcannon that he DID in fact try it, but it didn't work. I mean, the Golden Weapons were made by the FSM and even HE couldn't cure his own son so...) I'll give this a pass. ✅
Okay, I know the first two are the obvious ones. But let's move on.
3. Go back in time and I don't know...maybe STOP the Devourer's bite from happening in the first place, I GUESS? For fuck's sake, my dude literally DID use the weapon to go back in time in Episode 19, but did he decide to use it for this? Oh hell, no. ❌ But imagine if he DID though, but something goes wrong and Wu gets bitten instead. And the next thing he knows, he's pulled back to the present (because I'm just going to pretend the Mega Weapon has some screwed-up time limit) and sees the future he caused...and tries to fix it. (Because absolutely nothing goes as planned in canon and fanon)
4. A wish to strip his son of the prophecy. - Look, I get it. You're horrified you have to fight your own child to death and you've somehow managed to kinda accept it in later episodes of Season 2. Okay. So why not just wish Lloyd wasn't the Green Ninja? It wouldn't even hurt him. - The wish could still somewhat backfire by the role going to someone like Kai or the other ninja for example. But do you have to still stomach the realization you have to destroy your own son? Well, not really, huh? ❌
5. A wish to turn Lloyd back into a child. - So he was ambushed by the ninja in Episode 19 and that was when he first saw his son's...growth spurt, I guess? He was straight up horrified, but was it because he realized Lloyd lost his childhood or because he knew that this meant the Final Battle was drawing closer? An easy fix would be to just make him younger instead of... opening a portal into the past. He'd have more time to prepare and plus, this would also mean Lloyd could still have a childhood. And I don't think the ninja would try to pressure Lloyd to take Tomorrow's Tea again, now that he's got a second chance. Maybe Lloyd would argue though, but I doubt they would've let him.
#lord garmadon#garmadon ninjago#ninjago garmadon#garmadon#sensei garmadon#lego ninjago#ninjago#the mega weapon#lloyd garmadon#ninjago lloyd#lloyd ninjago#lloyd montgomery garmadon#sensei wu#ninjago wu#kai smith#ninjago kai#kid lloyd
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I don't think they outright say that EQG's first movie is supposed to be senior year. Yeah Sunset has three dance pictures, but they're never specified to be all Fall Formal. There is a chance one or two of them are from Spring Fling.
Plus, Canterlot High could be a grades 6-12 school (they do exist in real life) which does also give wiggle room for the CMC to be closer to 12-13 in EQG rather than 14-15. Meaning one can potentially assume Sunset arrived in the human world during 8th grade, then won a Spring Fling in 8th grade, and then the Fall Formal and Spring Fling in 9th grade, which makes it versatile for the first EQG movie to be in 10th grade.
Besides, it is impossible to see Spring Breakdown being before Forgotten Friendship (which is at the end of the school year). Legend of Everfree already takes place in spring break for the trip so it certainly is not in the same school year as Spring Breakdown (which is during spring break) for sure. Plus, Spring Breakdown is definitely after Forgotten Friendship due to Sunset reconciling with Celestia at that point.
The shorts also do support the idea with the Digital Series season 2 short Schedule Swap being the start of another school year after Forgotten Friendship (with said school year leading to Spring Breakdown). And the Driving Miss Shimmer one shows Sunset doesn't have her driver's license until that point (we can assume Applejack, Rarity, and Fluttershy recently got their driver's licenses by the time of that short) and I doubt she'd wait so long to get one, so she would be in 10th or 11th grade by then.
I argue on the picture thing because they do say it's the Fall Formals but I do also argue that the timeline is a bit of a jumble and it's just. Sometimes you just roll with the vibes.
I'll give you a point on the 6-12 tho
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