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tainsan · 2 months

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misfits XIII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content

⇥ word count: 9.1k

⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.

The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.

‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.

The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.

Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.

Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep.

Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.

"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.

You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.

Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.

You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.

“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat.

"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.

San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.

In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern.

"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."

Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice.

"Off? What do you mean?"

San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.

"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."

Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.

"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"

San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.

Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”

Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.

“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.

"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”

San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words.

“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."

San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.

Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.

Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.

Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.

Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.

Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer.

"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade.

"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties.

Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.

You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.

Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display.

San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."

Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."

Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."

Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."

As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.

Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?"

Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.

Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.

However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.

"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.

But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions.

Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.

Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions.

Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour.

Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."

San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."

Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."

Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."

Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."

Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."

Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."

Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."

With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation.

As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.

In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.

“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."

You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.

Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.

"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"

The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.

In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.

Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.

With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."

Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."

"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.

Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.

"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.

Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support.

Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.

"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.

The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable.

You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye.

As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.

"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.

Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"Anytime," he reassures you.

Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.

“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”

You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.

"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.

Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.

“It’s okay ____.”

“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”

The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.

“I don't know if I can.”

The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.

“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”

“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky.

Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.

“What messages?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”

“What do you mean? What do they say?”

“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.”

You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter.

It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.

"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."

“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”

Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."

His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.

You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you.

Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.

A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.

Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.

"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."

In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.

In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.

"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.

Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face.

"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.

“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot.

“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.

“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.

Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity.

Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”

His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.

A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.

But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.

In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.

“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.

Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.

“I want to say yes.”

Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.

“Come, we need to talk to the boys.”

Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.

“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.

"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.

"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”

The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.

“Let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.

Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.

It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.

"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.

Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."

Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.

Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.

San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.

Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.

Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.

Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.

Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.

They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable.

The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment.

San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.

“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out.

Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.

“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.

“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”

“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.

“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face.

“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.

“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.” Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.

“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.

Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.

“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.

"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.

Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.

The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.

San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.”

“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.

“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.”

"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.

San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.

The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.

It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here.

"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.

In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.

Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.

San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.

Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.

Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.

Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies.

Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.

Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise.

In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.

The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.

It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?”

Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity.

"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.

Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.

“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.

Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.

Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face.

Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.

Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."

Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.

San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.

Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.

“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”

“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.

“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail.

“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin.

“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”

“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.

The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.

The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?

“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.

“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.

"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.

The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.

Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.

Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."

The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.

Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."

His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.

The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.

Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.

In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.

“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.

The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.

Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.

San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.

Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.

The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them.

Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.

While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.

"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."

Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.

His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.

Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.

----

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp @liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things

im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.

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sailor-aviator · 7 months

Text

Don't Hang'em Til Noon: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake "Hangman" Seresin is a notorious leader within the Dagger posse of the old western territories of the United States. You, a recently orphaned socialite from the eastern seaboard, find yourself swept off to live with your older brother who has set down roots in said western territory. Determined to to make the best of your situation, what will you do when said outlaw sets his sights on you?

Warnings: Swearing, ANGST, Violence, Derogatory terms towards reader, More Angst, Some Fluff, Jake Seresin, Even more angst.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I warned y'all so many times this was going to be rough. But, anyway, we are officially halfway through the series!! As always, reboots, comments and likes are greatly appreciated!! 18+ ONLY!! Find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator! If You're feeling kind, please consider donating to my ko-fi!

Masterlist || DPU Masterlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The room was dark and and cold. You hadn’t bothered to light a fire or one of the lamps in the parlor. No, you found the silence comforting as you sat on the couch off to the side. Christmas morning was usually a happy time for you, but it had been a week since Henry’s impromptu proposal.

“You had no right,” you began, but he cut you off with a scoff.

“Please, Scout,” he scowled. “This was inevitable, and you know it. We make an excellent match, and I’m willing to overlook your little excursion out west with your brother.”

You made to say something, but he held up his hand to stop you. Sighing, he fixed you with a look.

“I know you love your brother, Scout, but it’s time to be realistic. You need someone who can take care of you and provide for you. I can be that. You’d never want for anything, and you’d never have to work a day in your life. What do you say?”

You stared down at him, saying nothing. Henry heaved another sigh as he got to his feet. He met your gaze, pocketing the ring, and running a hand through his dark hair.

“Just think about it, alright?” he grumbled, shooting a small glare your way. “I’ll expect an answer at the Christmas party next week.

And there you sat, holding the wooden horse in your hands. You smoothed your fingers over the grains, running them down to the carved initials. A year ago, you wouldn’t have had to think about your answer to Henry’s proposal. He was the obvious choice for your future at the time, making your heart jump every time you saw him and putting your thoughts at ease. But now?

Now it was the sight of this tiny, wooden horse in your hands that caused the emotions in your heart to swell. You had never been so vexed by a single person in your life, and you had certainly never been as bold as you were when you were near him. No one had ever made you laugh or cry or your heart pound the way he did. No one had ever accepted, let alone embraced, the wild side of you. No one had ever been willing to change themselves for you.

“You’re up early.”

You jumped, placing a hand on your chest to calm your thundering heart. The room was no longer drenched in darkness as the sun began to rise, casting a calm, blue glow into the room through the window. You looked up to see Jake standing in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face. You hummed, setting the horse down on the table beside you.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking back at him, “I suppose I am.”

Jake walked over to sit down in the chair opposite you, green eyes boring into you as he studied you.

“You must have a lot on your mind,” he pressed.

You sighed. “Not really. Nothing of importance, anyway.”

“You don’t think a proposal is important?”

You stared at him, trying to gauge his emotions.

“A proposal is very important, Jake,” you murmured. “That’s why it deserves due consideration.”

“Do you think he’ll make you happy?” He asked you quietly. You stared at him.

“I think Henry is able to provide a comfortable life to whomever his future wife may be,” you said finally. Jake frowned.

“But does he make you happy, Scout?”

“I think,” you started slowly, “that there was a time in my life where I would have been content to have him as my husband.”

“And now?” He asked, green eyes shining in the morning light. Your breath caught in your throat as the sun peaked over the horizon, causing a halo to form around his figure. Your heart ached with an emotion that you didn’t quite understand, You had never felt this way before about anything, but while the thought would have frightened you about anything else, the sight of Jake in front of you filled you with a sense of ease, of acceptance.

“Now, I want other things,” you replied firmly. You saw a smile twitch on his lips, but the moment was interrupted when a maid scurried into the room. She stopped when she saw the two of you, clearly not expecting anyone to be up at that hour.

“My apologies, Miss, Sir,” she blushed, eyes darting between the two of you. You waved her off with a smile.

“No need to apologize, Lottie,” you told her, glancing at Jake from the corner of your eye. He was still watching you intently. “We were just finishing up here.”

Jake stood up and walked with deliberate steps over to you, offering you his arm with a cheeeky grin. “May I escort you back to your room, miss?”

You giggled, slipping your arm through his, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “You may, sir.”

The dress you wore brought a smile to your face, not only because it was lovely, but because the green of it reminded you of a certain someone. It was a soft, mossy green that draped down your figure, the ends of the skirt shimmering like starlight. You looked a vision, and you knew it, but that didn’t stop the bubble of nerves in the pit of your stomach. You ran your hands over the dress, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles as your eyes darted to the piece of cloth placed carefully at the foot of your bed. It was a simple, white square that you had embroidered with wildflowers and a simple border to the corner. You had finished it before the trip, intending on bestowing it to Jake as a Christmas present long before he had even agreed to accompany you on the trip.

You imagined it must be difficult for him to be so far away from home during this time, and you were forever grateful to him for choosing to come with you. You certainly didn’t want him to feel left out while everyone was exchanging gifts. So, you took a deep breath and grabbed the handkerchief off the bed before making your way out of the room.

You could already hear the murmur from the party below grow louder as you drew closer to the staircase. It seemed the party had been going for quite some time by the looks of the empty glasses of wine strewn about the different rooms. You greeted people politely as you made your way through the growing crowd, trying to spot anyone you would be willing to have a lengthy conversation with.

“Scout!”

You turned with a barely suppressed groan as you spotted Henry making his way to you. He wore a navy blue coat with white trousers and a dark blue bowtie. He smiled as he drew near and you answered it with a polite one.

“Henry,” you greeted him, hands clasped in front of you.

“You look ravishing tonight, Scout,” he beamed. “I brought you a little something.”

He opened his coat to pull out a tiny, crystal bottle with an attached pump. You recognized it instantly as one of the many expensive perfumes sitting in one of the department stores in the city. You took it from him gingerly, eyeing the bottle apprehensively.

“Merry Christmas, Scout,” Henry smiled, chest puffing up at what he thought was a job well done. “I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I asked the clerk which one was the most popular.”

You gave him a tight lipped smile, gesturing for one of the maids to come over. She did so promptly, and you handed her the bottle.

“Will you take this up to my room, please?” You asked her. She gave you a nod before scurrying off. You turned back to the man in front of you. “Thank you, Henry. That was such a kind gesture. I apologize for not getting you anything in return.”

“Well, I hope you’ll give me a bit of good news later tonight,” he smirks, causing a wave of ice to run over you. Henry shot you a wink before turning to go and mingle with some of the older guests. “I look forward to hearing it.”

You watched him walk away, a frown at your lips. It would be advantageous to accept his proposal, really you’d be a fool not to. You missed your friends and family desperately, and there was also the matter of what your father had wanted. You could go back to your old life, pretend that nothing had ever happened or changed. But still, there was a voice inside you that you hadn’t heard since you were a little girl. It called out to you, begging you to consider the alternative.

You chewed on your bottom lip, wrestling with the conflicting emotions inside of you. You startled when you felt a figure step up beside you, turning to see Jake standing next to you. He matched your dress with his frosty green vest and white shirt. A white ascot complimented his attire along with a beige set of trousers. He watched the crowd, slyly linking his pinky with yours. The gesture filled you with a sense of ease, and you smiled gratefully up at him. He smirked down at you, a soft look in his eyes as he took you in.

“Did you intend to match me, sir?” You teased him. He let out a low chuckle, bumping your shoulder slightly with his.

“Your aunt insisted that I wear this tonight,” he smiled. “And now I know why.”

“She does have a way of getting what she wants,” you mused. He hummed, still looking at you.

“You look really pretty tonight, Scout,” he murmured. You felt your cheeks heat up at the compliment, and you ducked your head down to hide your smile. You wondered how he managed to make you feel like a schoolgirl all over again with such a simple compliment.

“Just pretty?” You looked up at him, batting your eyelashes. “Not beautiful or ravishing?”

Jake let out a low chuckle, leaning into you as you pressed your back against the door jamb of the parlor.

“No,” his smirk turned flirtatious. There was a time when that same smirk would have had you screaming at him, but now it just made your skin feel like it was on fire. “Ravishing is for when you look like you’re going to tear my head off or when you shoot a bucket from fifty yards off.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, and he continued.

“Beautiful is for when you’re on the ranch, knees deep in the earth of your garden, dirt covering your face and dress. Or when you fall asleep on my shoulder, not a care in the world on that face of yours.”

Your blush came back with a vengeance, and you were sure you looked ridiculous. But Jake looked at you as if you were the sun itself, shining just for him.

“Oh,” you whispered, unable to think of anything to say in response. He continued to smile softly at you, and the both of you turned when someone tapped on your shoulder.

“You’re under the mistletoe, dear,” an older woman giggled at you, pointing up. You looked up to see the tiny sprig of green and white hanging above your head. You glanced quickly back at Jake, who was still looking up at the plant. You looked around at the few people who heard the exchange, spotting Lucy grinning widely from where she stood with her parents.

“It’s bad luck if you don’t!” She called, and the people around her agreed. You turned your attention back to Jake, his eyes now boring into you. You swallowed nervously, your eyes eyes fluttering to his lips.

“We don’t want you to have any bad luck,” he murmured, his own eyes darting down to yours.

“No,” you said with a shake of your head. “We wouldn’t.”

Jake slowly lowered his head towards yours, stopping just shy of putting his lips on yours. You glanced up at him, and he watched you, waiting for you to close the distance. You reached up and placed a gentle, closed-mouth kiss to his. He hummed at the feel of you, and you relished in his familiar scent of clean linen and tobacco. You pulled away after a second, looking at him starry eyes. He gazed back at you with a dreamy expression, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Scout!”

You turned to see Lucy bounding towards you, giggling excitedly as she pulled you away.

“Come!” She grinned, gesturing for Jake to follow as well. “I want to give you your present!”

You allowed your best friend to pull you further into the parlor and up to the tree where a smattering of packages laid out waiting to be distributed. Lucy plucked a small box off the top of a larger one, handing it to you excitedly.

“Open it!” She squealed. You smiled at her as you carefully tore the paper away from the box, opening it. Inside sat a beautiful copper hair pin fashioned into the shape of a rose and greenery around it. You gasped at it, smiling widely at the redhead in front of you.

“Lucy, this is beautiful!” You gushed, holding the pin close to you.

“I knew you’d love it! You always loved flowers,” she giggled at you. You set the box off to the side and plucked a small box you had set aside for her. She ripped the paper open and gasped as she held a gold hairpin with a ruby attached to the end.

“Great minds think alike, I suppose,” you teased. Lucy wrapped you in her arms, squeezing you tight.

“Oh, thank you, Scout!” She grinned, pulling back. You glanced at Jake who still stood beside you and felt the nerves begin to crawl up your spine.

“I have something for you too,” you told him quietly. He raised an eyebrow at you as you dug out the handkerchief you had tucked away. You handed it to him with both hands, not able to meet his eyes as he took it gently from your hands. “It’s nothing fancy, but I’ve never seen you use one. I thought you could use it while you work around the ranch.”

You glanced up to see Jake studying the white square in his hands, face unreadable. He lifted his green gaze to yours.

“You made this?” He asked in a whisper. You nodded nervously, starting to fidget with your fingers.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” you rushed out. “I know flowers aren’t the most manly thing, and a handkerchief is such a common thing to have. I should have-”

“I love it,” he smiled at you, tracing his fingers over the square. He tucked it into his pocket as you released a breath of relief. “I have something for you, actually.”

Jake reached down and picked up one of the larger boxes on the ground. Now it was his turn to look nervous as you took the parcel from him, gently unwrapping the paper covering. Your eyes widened and your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

In your hands rested a wooden box. The top had been carved into the shape of different flowers, the details extending down into the base of the box. A simple, golden latch sat at the front, and you ran your hands over it as Lucy gawked behind you.

“I know it’s not anything fancy like perfume or clothing,” Jake started, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I thought you could use something to keep your jewelry and trinkets in. It took me a while to find the right kind of wood I wanted to use, and then it took me a couple of weeks to carve-”

“Wait,” you interrupted him, eyes shooting up to meet his startled gaze. “You made this?”

A blush crept onto his cheeks as he nodded sheepishly at you.

“Jake,” you murmured, looking back down at the box, running your hand over it once again. “This is so beautiful, thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered, smiling. You gave the box to a maid, instructing her to place it carefully on your bed.

“It’s very important to me,” you told her, and she nodded solemnly as she went to put the gift in your room.

“Are we exchanging gifts?”

You turned to see Aunt Jo strolling into the parlor with Uncle Walter close behind her. She smiled at your tiny group in greeting before picking up her own little box amidst the rest of the presents. She gestured for you all to follow, and you did so, sitting down in the collection of sofas and chairs by the fireplace. You sat in the same spot as you had that morning, Jake sitting in a chair off to your right as Lucy took up residence on your left. Aunt Jo handed the package to Uncle Walter who then rose to hand it to Jake. The younger man blinked in surprise, looking at you for guidance. You nodded at him encouragingly, and he slowly began to tear at the paper.

“We found that just the other week,” Aunt Jo proclaimed, smiling as she watched Jake. “Walter and I discussed it, and we knew you had to have it.”

You peered over at Jake who had stilled in his seat. He reached down gingerly to lift up a silver pocket watch into the light. Your heart stopped as you stared at it. The outside was carved with intricate designs amongst different leaves. At the bottom right, a humble sparrow was paused in mid-flight.

“Where did you find this?” You asked Aunt Jo, tears welling in your eyes. Jake looked over at you, concern etched into his features at your apparent distress. Aunt Jo smiled warmly at you.

“We found it amongst some of your father’s old things,” she explained. “Benjamin was insistent on having his own, and it would be such a shame for that beautiful piece to just sit and gather dust. We can think of no one else we’d rather have it then Mr. Seresin here.”

You looked over at Jake who was still looking at you uncertainly. You sniffled, fighting back your tears as you smiled at him.

“It was my father’s watch,” you whispered quietly. Understanding dawned on his face and he whipped around to look at your aunt and uncle. Aunt Jo turned her smile to his and Uncle Walter clapped him on the shoulder with a smile of his own.

“I don’t know what to say,” the blond man murmured, eyes darting around the room.

“Say that you’ll accept it,” Aunt Jo told him. “Elias would have wanted you to have it.”

She gave you a pointed look at that, and you nodded with a smile.

“Yes,” you agreed. “My father would have been so happy for you to have it.”

“I believe I just saw a maid carrying a rather poor looking box upstairs.”

You all turned to see Henry making his way over to where you all sat. You frowned at him, already knowing what box he was talking about.

“It was a rather garish thing,” he continued, earning a glare from Lucy. “An eyesore really. No wonder it was given to the maid. I think it was handmade too.”

“It was handmade,” you bit out. “And it was given to the maid to put in my room for safekeeping.”

“That retched thing was yours, Scout?” He chuckled, and you saw Jake clench his jaw.

“Yes,” you hissed. “It was a gift from Jake, one that I happen to adore. I wouldn’t expect you to understand the value of making something with your hands.”

Henry’s smile wavered. “Whatever do you mean by that, dearest?”

“I mean,” you continued, sitting up straighter, “that it takes a special kind of man to not see the value in someone else’s hard work. I don’t know if I could ever see myself marrying someone like that.”

Henry’s smile was completely gone by the time you finished your sentence. He stared at you coldly before fixing a glare at Jake. Jake sat still, no discernable emotion on his face.

“Cousin Scout!”

All of you turned at the sound of your young cousins running up to you. The tension in the room was lifted slightly as you watched the young ones giggle up at you.

“Yes, my darlings?” You smiled down at them, grateful for a reprieve from all the drama.

Thomas, the oldest boy, pointed at the table next to you. “What’s that?”

You turned to see the wooden horse you had forgotten that morning. You reached out to grab it, smiling at it fondly.

“This,” you told them in a hushed tone like you were telling them a secret, their little bodies crowding in to hear you, “is a very special treasure that was given to me.”

“What does it do?” Asked Mary, eyes as big as saucers.

“It drives away bad dreams,” you smiled at her, giving her the figurine to hold. She held it gently in her small hands, the other children staring at it in wonder.

“Who gave it to you?” Thomas asked you. Your gaze shifted over to Jake with a small smile. He watched you fondly, his own smile dancing on his lips.

“A dear friend made it for me some months ago,” you whispered, earning a scoff from across the way. Henry stalked over and ripped the horse out of Mary’s hands, earning a cry of protest from the young girl.

“You shouldn’t be filling their heads up with nonsense, Scout,” he tsked as he walked over to the fire place, examining the horse. “I thought you knew better than that.”

He frowned when he saw the initials on the belly of the horse, features turning into a sneer that you had never seen from him before.

“Ridiculous,” he spat, tossing the horse into the fire. You let out a shocked cry, lurching forward as tears sprang to your eyes. The commotion had drawn the attention of the other party goers, but no one was prepared for what happened next.

In the blink of an eye, Jake was on his feet, slamming Henry into the mantle with such a force as to rattle the chandelier that hung from above. Several people let out gasps at the scene, and you vaguely registered the tears that poured down your face. You had loved that horse, and now it was gone forever. Lucy shushed you as the scene continued to unfold. Cousin John ran forward just as Uncle Walter stood up, both making their way to where the two men stood.

Henry’s jaw was clenched as Jake glared at him, nostrils flaring.

“What is it?” Henry sneered. “Did I hurt your feelings? There’s no need to get so worked up over some trollop who will go around kissing and defending anything.”

Jake’s hands clenched around Henry’s suit even harder at his words. Uncle Walter placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder as Cousin John watched the two wearily, ready to step in should anything happen.

“Let him go, son,” Uncle Walter murmured, quietly enough that you could barely hear him. “He’s not worth it.”

Jake didn’t take his eyes off of Henry, instead he leaned in closer, murder in his eyes.

“If you ever come near her again, if you ever make her cry again?” He spat before giving a humorless chuckle, fixing Henry with a deadly serious look. “They won’t ever find your body.”

A flash of fear ran over Henry’s face at the words, eyes darting around to the crowd. Jake let go of Henry, dropping him from where he had been raised against the mantle. Jake sniffed, turning to look at you, his face softening considerably as he took you in. You watched as he walked over to kneel in front of you. He took your trembling hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked you, eyes trying to find the answer to his question. You nodded slowly, looking around at the room. All the guests were whispering to one another, eyes darting from Jake, to Henry, and then to your aunt and uncle. You felt your lips press into a thin line before standing abruptly.

“If you all will please excuse me,” you said with a polite smile before walking through the parting crowd and out into the garden. The night was cold, typical for December, and the snow crunched under your feet as you made your way further into the shadows.

“Scout!”

You kept walking.

“Scout, please.”

You stopped at the edge of the hedges, looking out into the hills.

“Dammit, Scout,” Jake pleaded, grabbing your hand. You yanked away, whirling around to fix him with a glare.

“How dare you!” You hissed at him. Jake looked taken aback by your outburst before his brow furrowed in confusion.

“What?”

“You just embarrassed my family with that little scene you caused,” you snapped, gesturing back towards the house. “What will people say now?”

“Who cares what a bunch of snobby, rich people say?” Jake scoffed, frowning at you.

“I care!” You shrieked. “Have you forgotten that I used to be one of them?”

Jake shook his head, taking a step forward. “You’re nothing like them, Scout. You don’t want the same things. ”

“Then maybe you don’t really know me,” you stated, causing Jake to reel back. “Maybe you don’t know what it is that I want.”

“I know you,” he said firmly, eyes running over you. “I know who you really are. They don’t. You don’t want this, honey girl.”

You met his gaze steadily, feeling the words leave your lips before you could stop them. “Maybe this is exactly what I want.”

Silence surrounded you, and you wished you could take the words back as Jake stared at you like you just crushed his heart in your hands. You saw the greens of his eyes start to shine as he stared at you, the wind blowing his hair across his forehead. He pressed his lips into a firm line before nodding, turning to walk back into the house.

Your tears came in droves as you clutched yourself, desperate to keep from falling apart in the cold, windy night. The wind howled, echoing the sound of your heart as you watched him walk away from you. For the first time in months, you felt truly alone.

It was late, and you had retired to your room hours ago. You sat at your vanity, absentmindedly running your brush through your hair when a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” you croaked, your voice still hoarse from all the crying. The door opened slowly to reveal Aunt Jo. She gave you a small smile, closing the door behind her before walking over to where you sat. She took the brush from your hand and began slowly working it through your locks. Neither of you said anything for a few moments.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered quietly, and Aunt Jo looked at you in the mirror, brow furrowed.

“Whatever for, my dear?”

“For the scene earlier today,” you sighed. “I know that must have been so embarrassing for you and Uncle Walter. “Hopefully things will die down here once we leave in the morning.”

“Scout,” Aunt Jo frowned, “are you under the impression that your uncle and I are upset with you and Jake?”

“Yes?” You questioned her. “Why wouldn’t you be? He caused such a spectacle in front of everyone tonight.”

“My dear girl,” she chuckled, setting the brush down on the vanity. She pulled at your shoulders so that you turned around to face her. “If anyone should be ashamed and apologizing, it would be Henry Cargill.”

“What?” Your eyes widened at her.

“Henry is the one who caused the scene, Scout,” she continued. “Not Jake. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Seresin was defending my niece’s honor and I made that perfectly clear to everyone here tonight. Henry is the one who made a fool of himself tonight.”

“I suppose I did as well,” you muttered, earning a questioning look from your aunt. “Oh, Aunt Jo. I’m afraid I said such horrible things to Jake.”

“I’m sure it’s not anything that can’t be fixed,” she reassured you, but you shook your head.

“You didn’t see the look on his face,” you cried, bottom lip wobbling. “He was so hurt, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted anything to do with me ever again.”

“Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case,” she smiled, patting your head gently. “That boy is so smitten with you, sweetheart. Everyone can see it. Just talk to him, and I promise everything will work out.”

You sniffled. “Maybe I should just move back here. I keep managing to make a fool of myself. I know what I’m doing here.”

Aunt Jo wiped your tears away gently, resting her hands on either side of your face. She made sure your eyes were locked on hers before she continued. “I think you would be the world’s biggest fool if you did that. Only the weak throw away their chances at happiness, you know, and you, my dear niece, are not weak. Just because things here are familiar, does not mean they’re right for you. You have become a more radiant version of yourself since you moved away. The west did that. Jake did that.”

“So you’re telling me not to move back?” You asked her with a watery smile. She chuckled, hugging you close.

“I’m telling you to choose happiness, Scout.”

You sat in the carriage as Jake loaded the rest of your luggage onto the back of the carriage. Aunt Jo and Uncle Walter had already bid you goodbye and now waited for the blond to finish his task before Aunt Jo enveloped him in a tight hug. He seemed a little taken aback, but returned it, frowning in confusion at something she whispered to him. She pulled back with a smile as Uncle Walter stepped up to shake his hand.

You shifted in your seat eagerly, ready to apologize to him when he stepped up into the carriage with you. But that moment didn’t come.

Jake waved to your aunt and uncle, casting you a sideways glance as he hopped up to sit with the driver. You met your aunt’s gaze and she offered you a sympathetic smile before waving as the carriage began to move. You waved back at her, settling in for the ride.

Jake still refused to acknowledge you even after the two of you settled in for the train ride to St.Louis, and you were beginning to grow irritated. You heard the girls giggling over him from a few seats behind you, but Jake paid them no mind as he continued to stare out the window.

“Jake,” you said, leaning forward. He glanced at you with a hum. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, looking back out the window. “We’re going to go back to Maverick, and you’re going to get ready to go back to your old life.”

“What?” You asked him, eyes widening in shock.

“Isn’t that what you decided?” He scoffed with a roll of his eyes. You stared at him, biting your cheek to keep from snapping at him.

“Well, if you would listen to what I have to say-”

“Sorry, darlin’. I’m not really all that interested in hearing about your plans for the future at the moment,” he sneered. You felt your temper start to boil. To prevent yourself from creating a scene in the traincar, you stood up abruptly, causing Jake to look at you.

“Where are you going?” He grumbled, watching you.

“When you’re ready to talk to me like an adult,” you hissed, “you can find me in my cabin. Until then, goodnight, Mr. Seresin.”

Jake rolled his eyes, grumbling something under his breath. You felt your resolve start to crack, and without thinking you raised your foot, stamping it down on Jake’s. He cried out in pain before looking at you incredulously, hands gripping his foot. You glared at him before stomping down the aisle and out of the car.

If he wanted to be childish, then two could play at that game.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun hangman #dhtn #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fic #hangman top gun #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #hangman x reader #hangman fanfiction #hangman #don't hang'em til noon

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nalyra-dreaming · 4 months

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Why did magnus choose Lestat? Why did he go through so many humans that looked like him?

Hey!

Magnus‘ selection criteria - quite the fascinating (and harrowing) subject!

So (quick recap):

Magnus is a respected and appreciated scholar alchemist. Rhoshamandes protects him but refuses to give him the Dark Gift, which Magnus then, old and supposedly unpleasantly looking, steals from Benedict. (And Rhoshamandes must have loved Magnus quite a lot for not killing him for that!)

Magnus is an outcast. I think Rhosh must have protected him enough still for the Children of Satan not to bother him, but four centuries later he is alone, and decides to make an heir. And not just any heir.

Now Magnus selection criteria are:

Blond, blue-eyed, good-looking, and lean.

These are the basics. Stereotypical and superficial beauty standards, you might say.

There is a lot that can be said about these criteria, and I don’t think the show will shy away from the obvious aryan-idealistic connotations, nor the callbacks to the Nazi regime (and, I mean, season 2 is set during WW2). (*)

Magnus chose Lestat as one of those matching that superficial standard. He's not the first victim, there are a lot of rotting corpses in that tower, as Lestat in the show also said: his coloring, his physique.

There is one aspect though which saves Lestat from death - and that is (or at least seems to be) his fight with the wolves. The "cosmic error" as he himself calls it in the books. That is why Magnus also takes the coat, too, lined with the fur of those wolves. It's why Magnus calls him "wolfkiller", in his mind, and to his face.

One can only speculate that the other victims did not have that ... will, the fierceness that is needed for a feat like killing a pack of wolves. Or, maybe, it was the "light" in Lestat, that which is mentioned again and again in the chronicles, and which draws and burns others. Either way, this event probably tipped the scales in Lestat's favor, if you want to call it that.

Lestat in the show says that he "kept him for a week", and then threw him back with the corpses, to be fed on every night.

Everyone who knows the book knows that the turning scene is written as a rape with forced orgasm. It will be horrific to watch on the show, no matter how they do it, I already found the scene in ep6 hard to watch. (I was prompted to write about this a while ago, and so I wrote about the fallout and that turning in a fic, here, if you're interested.)

The "week" also means Lestat had to be shaved prior to turning. Haircut, maybe. And he likely did not get that much food, which would make him even leaner.

Now, the shaving (in the show-timeframe) is also a conscious choice by Magnus. (And it will be interesting if they pick it up, and how, for the show.) He obviously did not want his new heir to carry a beard. He wanted him to match that beauty standard in his head, the one he probably wanted for himself, if his later taking-up of these physical attributes (I talked about this here) is any indication.

And, of course... "sunlight in your hair, and the blue sky fixed forever in your eyes".

The two things a vampire (pre moving color pictures at least) could never see again. The blue sky, and sunlight.

(*) There is also the interesting aspect that Daniel could be at least half jewish - and Armand is now or has chosen to be Muslim. A very ... present day commentary that the show will surely hook into in some kind of fashion.

And, as a note:

All of this also pays into the question of the theoretical possibility of a color-consciously cast “black Lestat“, which I commented on here, as well.

Because Magnus had his… criteria.

And Lestat suffers from them, for centuries. Has PTSD from them, up to the last book. Tries to hide this behind sarcasm, and humor. Changing that… would (with several other considerations) change the whole of the chronicles.

#anonymous #asks #ask nalyra #amc iwtv #iwtv #amc interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire amc #iwtv amc #iwtv 2022 #interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #the brat prince #iwtv lestat #magnus #magnus criteria #black lestat

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002yb · 8 months

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I love Tim in your dickjay content😭😭 its lovely. Especially with Dick being a possesive ass. So i was wondering what if Tim has a little way too obvious crush on Jay (only Jay doesn't know) and Dick is very:)) because Jason is *his*

Thank you so much!! Something about Tim being infinitely exhausted by his smitten in love/lust brothers is so funny. He's perpetually brought in to the dickjay shenanigans and he can't find the unsubscribe button lol (though lbr he likes to watch 👀)

Anyway, a bit of a spin on the usual with Tim genuinely crushing on Jason; thank you for the prompts!

Said crush is entirely based on physical attraction though

Tim gets a face full of toddies one day and it changes him as a man

There's no going back after experiencing the majesty that are Jason's pecs - so plush, so ample, so lewd

He's never fallen so hard for someone in such a shallow, superficial way but he isn't even mad about it

Jason's breasts? Hot damn.

This attraction leads to a lot of subconscious staring

Jason doesn't notice, but Dick most definitely does

A lot of Dick's time goes to admiring Jason's chest; it's his choice wonder to marvel - of course he notices when someone else is awed by them, too

There's nothing respectful in the way Tim watches their heft or bounce though. The punk is perving; Dick would know the look anywhere.

Dick looking between Tim and the toddies before scowling something fierce as he comes to the conclusion: he needs to assert his dominance over Jason's bountiful bosom. Tim is out of line--

Meanwhile Tim honestly doesn't care. He recognizes that this 'crush' is just his hormones running wild. Jason has an allure about him that attracts attention. He's unintentionally obscene and like -- it's a sight. Tim likes pretty pictures. So he doesn't have any real intention to act; Tim just wants to watch.

And watch he does because Dick comes out with so much aggression in showing Tim who Jason belongs with:

Post-training cool down. Dick, Jason and Tim running through stretches on the mat. Tim very clearly staring off into space as he catches a glimpse of pec through the low side slit of Jason's top and Dick bristles.

It leads to Dick pulling Jason into the space between his legs with Jason's back pressed to Dick's front before Dick wraps bodily around him, hands raised to hold Jason's pecs steady and keep him modest.

And like, joke is on Dick because Tim isn't even bothered. Still hot.

And so it goes. Again and again because Dick recognizes that Tim isn't the sort to scare easy. Of course not - Tim is Robin, Dick's protege. He shouldn't expect any different.

Jason and Tim reading in the manor library. Or Jason reading, Tim does research for a case. A lower priority consideration given how Tim looks over his laptop to stare at the stretch of Jason's shirt over his pecs.

Dick, a looming night terror over Tim's shoulders. Tim might jump a bit when Dick asks about the case - so absorbed by Jason that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings and oh, that's a problem.

Dick laying over top of Jason to obscure the view and Tim pouts a bit - both because Dick is blocking the view and also because Tim might be a bit jealous. Jason's chest looks comfortable to nap on.

And more:

Where Tim coughs to get Jason's attention as they're getting dressed for patrol.

When Jason turns to look at Tim -- the kid holds bandaids out to him and at first Jason is ??? but then Tim casts a quick glance down to his chest and then he flusters because omfg

The toddy nips are being lewd through Jason's shirt

Embarrassed as Jason is, he takes the bandages. Grateful because they're actually really sensitive. Stupid Dick and the recent escalation in his tit fetish.

Jason taping them on and Tim watching with wide eyes and flushed cheeks because oh. Tim can't blame Dick's fetish at all - this is...wow.

And to wrap it up:

When Jason and Tim are dressing down post patrol, Tim is legit taken out at the knees. They straight up give out on him at the sight of Jason's chest being marked up - ravaged

It doesn't help matters that Jason gives Tim a side eye and pouts about it.

Tim wants a picture so bad. Jason is so damn pretty

Basically Dick really just exacerbates the problem of Tim having a crush on Jason and it's amazing. Jason is none the wiser.

#timjay #dickjay #possessive!dick grayson #jealous!dick grayson #9/10 times I forget to comment on actual comments within an ask despite how they make me happy and I'm so sorry #today though - I remember (<#thanks anon!#hot toddy appreciation

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extraordinarilyextreme · 4 months

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today, i wanna talk about this point that i've referenced a couple times across my yrzx fics:

For the fate of the world, Wang Ye relinquished his days of peace and tranquility. To save Zhuge Qing’s life, Wang Ye could sacrifice everything beneath the heavens. (from 岁月不待人 | the moon and the tides, you and i)

i'll start during Beijing arc, when ZCL asks why WY doesn't just give up Feng-hou Qimen to the ppl who want it.

in the manhua (ch. 185) & donghua (s3, ep. 3), WY's response is vague: "for various reasons, i can't give out [that power]."

(note that the dialogue differs slightly btwn these two adaptations, but the meaning is the same)

but in the live-action (s1, ep. 22), WY clearly explains that "it would throw the ways of this world into greater disorder. this calamitous fate must be shouldered by me alone."

these lines perfectly demonstrate one of WY's most defining traits: 心怀天下 / a heart that cradles everything beneath the heavens.

we see it first during the tournament arc, when WY admits to ZCL that he didn't need to get involved in this mess—but did so anyway because the fate of the world was implicated.

WY: Actually, whatever happens to you all has nothing to do with me. No matter how terrible the world ends up, I can still protect myself and my family and keep us unscathed. So, actually, I shouldn't have come here. [...] ZCL: What you mean is that if I continue my investigation, the future of this world may very likely develop in a bad direction. Daozhang, who this "bad future" impacts isn't limited to only me, right? The two of us are neither kin nor kith; you wouldn't have come to get caught up in these troubled waters because of me, right? WY: This, involves another concept. I call it the weight of fate. [...] And you, Zhang Chulan, you hold a high ratio of that weight. Your choice will change the fates of many, many people. (LA s1, ep. 14; see also manhua chs. 121-122 & donghua s2, ep. 12)

this is the extent of WY's selflessness. and as his conversation w ZCL continues, something else is revealed to us.

ZCL: The you who could have stayed out of this matter entirely chose instead to come here and persuade me. Did you also not choose the future that would have been best for you? (LA s1, ep. 14)

that 'something' is none other than WY's conduct: 明知山有虎，偏向虎山行 / knowing full well the mountains harbor tigers, yet insisting on traveling deep into the mountains anyway. or, in other words, the practice of forging on into promised danger.

which, coincidentally, is exactly how WY praised Zhuge Liang's character during his match against ZGQ.

可他却放弃了作为一个修者该坚守的一切。就算逆大势而行，也要投身到乱世当中，只为了去救那个明知已无可救药的天下。/ But he chose to give up everything that a cultivator should uphold and protect. Even if it meant opposing the momentum of the times, he threw himself utterly into chaos of the mortals—all to save a world he knew full well was beyond redemption. 为了那个天下情愿去和天理和大势对抗 / For that world, he was willing to hold off divine order and destiny itself. 明知不可为而为，这就是他那个级别的术士作为。/ To do something knowing full well of its impossible nature—this was the practice of a sorcerer of his caliber. (LA s1, ep. 13; see also manhua ch. 110 & donghua s2, ep. 10)

with such a heart of compassion (怜悯之心, HMH's words) and sense of responsibility, WY is unlike anyone else in his generation. instead, it can be argued that the character most similar to WY is in fact one of his seniors, lao-Tianshi.

they are, at least in the LA, the only two 麒麟 in the story after all (s1, eps. 8 & 20):

and just like lao-Tianshi, it's easy to think of WY as a saint (圣人) or a god—something "above" mortal humans. he's operating on a scale (格局) far greater than anyone else in our main cast; WY is always taking the whole world into consideration, even if that's the choice least favorable to him.

(LA s1, ep. 23)

and then Beijing arc happens. and by the end of it, WY has an epiphany:

“The me who has always avoided involvement with worldly affairs has no right to speak of leaving them behind.” (manhua ch. 196; see also LA s1, ep. 23 & donghua s3, ep. 7)

he's begun to have a reckoning with his own human-ness. he's starting to realize that he's fallible, that he's ordinary and secular, that he has attachments—and, importantly, that he wants attachments. that he desires companionship (just as humans are wont to do).

and it's with that moment of enlightenment that we dive into Biyou Village arc.

because, overall, WY has not actually changed that much. he still feels responsible for the peace and safety of the world; he still wants to figure out how ZCL and FBB are related to the Jiashen Calamity. he still remembers clearly what Hong-ye said: "you are the chosen one." (LA s1, ep. 4)

and even ZGQ himself remarks (manhua ch. 228; see also donghua s4, ep. 5):

yet when ZGQ's safety is at stake, WY doesn't hesitate for even a moment:

(donghua s4, ep. 5; see also manhua ch. 228)

that is not the conduct of someone who always thinks about the bigger scheme of things. that's the conduct of someone making a choice for himself, an arguably selfish choice, to save his friend and doom everyone else.

WY would sooner give up his Feng-hou Qimen and restart the Jiashen Calamity than see ZGQ in danger. that is how important ZGQ is to WY.

在王也的心中，诸葛青的命比天下苍生还重要。/ in Wang Ye's heart, Zhuge Qing's life is more important than everyone in beneath the heavens.

and that's because ZGQ is the first of his generation to approach him. to make an effort to befriend him. to look beyond the power he possesses and also see him.

(LA s1, ep. 15; see also manhua ch. 131 & donghua s2, ep. 14)

in other words, it was ZGQ who made WY's godlike love for the world human. WY is no longer an outside viewer looking down on the plane he feels beholden to; WY is a part of this secular world, and that is why he should want to protect it.

because the red dust realm is where ZGQ exists. here is where their bond exists.

(unrelated pic from manhua ch. 196; see also donghua s3, ep. 7)

tldr: Wang Ye places the world before himself, and Zhuge Qing before the world.

— all this to say, i really am excited for s2 of the live-action, even though the casting rumors have been disheartening. Biyou Village arc is a climactic chapter for YeQing, so i hope the adaptation does it justice.

(LA s1, ep. 27)

#异人之下 #i am nobody #cdrama ramblings #yeqing #一人之下 #hitori no shita #crossposted from twitter but this version is much longer lol #does this count as meta? i always hesitate to use that word bc i read other ppl's stuff and im like WOW #THAT'S MINDBLOWING #but i feel like this is just 'they really really care a lot about each other please cry with me'

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maybebitterxox · 1 year

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Generation Loss Has The Continuous Theme Of Illusion Of Choice, With Both The Hero And Us As The Viewers.

Okay, this might be long.

Ranboo said that, if there is a generation two, he will likely appear in it as nothing more than a side character. Understandable that he doesn’t want the spotlight again, but my interest is piqued with the fact that he would be in it at all.

It was proved with Charlie in the final episode that every one of his appearances throughout the show was actually the same person, there’s no “we’re short on actors so let’s pretend that this guy wasn’t in episode 1 and is a completely different guy”. Charlie remembers the events from Episode 1 and 2, showing it was actually him in those episodes.

However, this fact basically makes it canon that Showfall Media can bring their cast back to life; or, if not, they orchestrate fake deaths in each episode. Sneeg and Charlie are reoccurring characters and you don’t actually see their episode 1-2 deaths on screen; it’s either implied or the camera cuts away. So either they did actually die and were brought back somehow, or their deaths were faked and they were “reprogrammed” afterwards.

For Ranboo to be in the next generation, one of these will be applied to him. Either the death we saw was not real, or he will be revived in some way. But the important thing about this is that, no matter how Ranboo is brought back, if he is alive and present in generation two then it shows that our choice was ultimately useless and did not matter.

This all made me think back on all the other choices we as the viewers made throughout the episodes, and I came to realise that absolutely none of them mattered either.

Our choice of ingredients in episode 1 didn’t matter, as the dish changed in the microwave.

Collecting the three keys didn’t matter, as Charlie knocked down the door.

In the fight scenes, there was stalling and blunder on the side of our opponent, and we dealt more damage than they did with basically all our attacks. The cloth was also basically a complete cheat, as even if the opponent was winning, Ranboo could have just used the cloth and beaten them in one swift move. It was rigged so that Ranboo would win, and our choices of how to act did not matter.

Creating the sharlickle monster thing was a test of the voting mechanism and therefore isn’t something I take much into consideration in regards to lore (this was either stated by Ranboo or Charlie, I can’t remember which one); however, I strongly believe that no matter what we had chosen, we would’ve had the exact same outcome of Sneeg dying and Ranboo locking the creature in the cage. Our choices there didn’t matter, as the creature would serve the same purpose no matter what.

We had to choose a key to free Ranboo from the electric chair trap, but the first one picked was the correct one. I get the feeling that, no matter which key was picked, it would have been the correct one, and that our choice once again did not matter.

Our choice of who to free from the carousel did not matter, as all of the people on it eventually died regardless.

In episode 3, our voting on which code to use did not matter as Ranboo refused to listen to our vote and put in another random code.

Ranboo would have been re-used as a cast member no matter if we had picked live or die, our choice meant nothing.

After realising this, I also started thinking that, well, by extension, this is all the exact same for Ranboo while he is being controlled. He thinks that the decision we make are his own decisions, so his concept of free-will is completely false throughout episode 1 and 2. And, to make it worse, he is being controlled by individuals who have no power in the first place. He has the illusion of choice, but ultimately can do nothing, just like us.

In episode 3, this doesn’t change. Yes, we are not deciding for him any more; in fact, he is actively going against our choices, as shown with the scene of him picking one of the codes and ignoring the viewer’s vote. But he is put in a controlled environment, one going according to a script, so yet again he cannot make any choices that will influence or change his situation; everything was set so that he would have to follow the script no matter what.

The script also called for Ranboo to make it to the end alone, so Charlie never had any chance of escaping, surviving or going with him, no matter if Ranboo had chosen to take him along or leave him. He chose to take Charlie along, but Charlie was killed before the ‘end’; and what, the monster security TV creature just so happened to be in the exact room the kill button was? He was scripted to die or to be left behind, and he was never going to make it out. Ranboo was also scripted to never actually escape, only to make it to the ‘finale’.

(This is more on the technical, non-lore related side of things, but for the picking codes scene, if Ranboo really had picked the correct code then the story would likely be cut short, unless they had other plans in mind. I think that, no matter what choice we made, he would have never chosen the correct code, picking the wrong one no matter what for the story to continue. Even these technical aspects related to writing prove the point that our choices are designed to mean nothing.)

The whole show really is an experiment, both on The Hero and on us. It’s an experiment as to what we will do with the illusion of free choice, how we will react to thinking we have the power to influence the narrative. But, no matter what, there was only one way that it was ever going to end and one way the story would play out; any choices made by us or our Hero were simply data collection, both by the fictional Showfall media and maybe even by real-life Ranboo.

But that’s just a theory. A game theory!

@ranboolivesaysstuff So much props to you for making all this and giving me stuff for my goldfish brain to do gymnastics over. Generation loss is genius, and I’m so excited to see more!

#gen loss #generation loss #generation loss theory #gen loss theory #ranboo

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kingdomoftyto · 7 days

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Ah, POE has entered its Murderstuck phase. (Seriously though I'd be interested in seeing your classpects for the detectives after you finish the game)

AT LAST I have beaten the game and can answer this ask!!

Short answer:

Long answer:

[Reminder that in addition to the canon info on aspects from the Extended Zodiac, I also like to take into consideration the excellent old theories {aspects} from bladekindeyewear, a lot of which seem to have made their way onto the MSPA wiki {classes}!]

I'm going to try desperately not to overthink this too badly by psychoanalyzing the characters and their growth over the course of the narrative, because for past attempts at this sort of thing I've had people tell me my choices are way off base lol. As a result some of these will be a little more straightforward than my usual fare.

And, it JUST SO HAPPENS that when I go with my gut instincts like this, the full cast (minus Senior) lines up pretty perfectly with the full set of 12 aspects! That's too beautiful to ignore, so I'm sticking with it. >:)

Anyway, let's get into it:

Incompetent/Ideal Detectives: Heir of Mind

This one's kind of a no-brainer. The Denouement is without question a Mind power, anticipating possible outcomes before they happen. Not to mention Mind's general association with rationality and logic--necessary traits for any detective worth their salt. Mind is also all about your choices and how they change you, echoing the themes of growth and optimism for things to get better, even in the face of despair. It feels right to me if Wato and Saika to share a classpect, particularly the Heir class considering each of them literally inherited the Ideal title from the other. Heir is also thought to be a passive class, which suits their shared tendency to guide the other detectives to finding the solutions rather than solving every little mystery by themselves.

Doleful Detective: Rogue of Doom

Oh boy. In a brighter world, Doleful could have EASILY been the Light-bound of the group. His entire shtick is being supernaturally lucky--even to the point of tragedy. He would have been the group's Vriska, except with troubles that were no fault of his own. HOWEVER, clearly, the reality of who Doleful actually is paints us a very different picture. What we get instead is someone whose entire existence circles around the ideas of sacrifice and suffering. It becomes an obsession for him, both as a detective (as seen in his primary contribution to the group being putting himself in harm's way) and as the Duke (as seen in... his entire outlook on society). As a Rogue, his purpose is to "steal" the suffering of the masses, in his own twisted, pessimistic way, and because this is a passive class, he does it in the most indirect way possible.

Renegade Detective: Bard of Rage

This fucker is Gamzee Makara. I mean just look at him. He has the hair and everything.

...No but seriously, I'm not even joking with this. Go read the Extended Zodiac's description for Rage and tell me that's not Renegade in a nutshell. "Contempt for falsehoods, including the stability those false ideas can impart." "Would rather tear down a system and live in anarchy if they think the system is built on faulty premises." "Difficult to convince otherwise once attached to an idea." He's SO single-minded in his beliefs that he dies with a grin on his face just because his death follows his twisted worldview (which, wouldn't you know it, is another thing he shares with a certain purpleblooded troll). He also incites literal chaos and anger among the other detectives, particularly Workaholic, pulling them into similar delusions of there only being a single, violent way forward.

Armor Detective: Knight of Space

This man is pure physicality. He's simple, in every sense of the word. Just a huge, solid wall, an impenetrable barrier to all threats. He has a single solution to every problem, and that's to position himself in between danger and the people he wants to protect. And of course he's a Knight: his greatest asset--nay, his very essence--is the material suit of armor he's equipped with at all times.

Rowdy Detective: Maid of Breath

What is Breath but the embodiment of movement? As the athlete of the group, Rowdy definitely does plenty of that. But Breath also implies direction, bringing to mind her hanafuda cards, which she consults not to seek external guidance but to reinforce her own decision. Once she's pointed herself at a target, there's no stopping her. (Plus also, y'know. There's literal breath, and she has a pretty good sense of smell lmaO.) Maids, at least in the theories I follow, are an active class, and Rowdy is a prime example, manifesting her own forward momentum and allowing no room for doubt.

Downtown Detective: Thief of Heart

Heart is the aspect of identity and, relatedly, of facades--something Downtown knows all about. Outwardly, she presents a cheery, playfully snarky personality, but this is only one of many layers of masks. Her mastery of these countless faces are what makes her so skilled at manipulating other people. She sees effortlessly into what makes people tick, steers the conversation to revealing the info she wants, and then, like any good Thief, snatches up the resulting spoils. Heart also, however, refers to the unchanging core of what makes a person who they are, and to me this is highlighted by the way Downtown holds so tightly to the memory of her friend Miyuki, no matter how far she sinks into the Duke's web of lies and death.

Bookworm Detective: Mage of Light

I said I wasn't going to get too into character growth in these analyses but HEAR ME OUT. The obvious aspect for Bookworm would be Void, right? Her manner of speech literally obfuscates her emotions behind the detached wording of a third-person narration. Plus she's goth as hell. But much like with Rose Lalonde before her, I argue that this is because she starts out with her aspect "inverted", and that her self-actualization comes in the form of her embracing her true nature: Light. Light can mean fortune, as I mentioned in Doleful's entry, but it is also knowledge and clarity. Bookworm's greatest weapon is her encyclopedic recall, and this is put to best use only when she begins to open up to and cooperate with the other detectives. The sense of triumph Wato (and I) experienced every time she felt confident enough to speak in first person should be more than enough to prove that the Void clinging to her psyche is only holding her back from her full potential.

Posh Detective: Seer of Hope

The aspect of Hope can best be summed up as "fake it 'til you make it", and if that doesn't encapsulate Posh as a person, then I don't know what does. Even with her family fallen on hard times, she relies on a carefully constructed facade of wealth and influence to convince others of her abilities. Though this performance isn't always the most convincing to the other detectives, her stubborn refusal to abandon it is no accident on her part. She has convinced herself that her aspirations of rank and prestige (both within the Detective Alliance and in society at large) will manifest if only she can inextricably associate herself with the role. As a Seer, her job is to passively guide others with insight related to her aspect--which brings to mind her naively confident guesses that fail to be correct on their own but can and do divert the discussion indirectly toward the solution.

Mystic Detective: Sylph of Blood

With a name like Van Helsing, he had to be Blood, right? It just feels right with his occult proclivities. But even on a metaphorical level, Blood first and foremost represents the bonds between people, an appropriate theme for the group's resident father figure. Mystic is known for solving his cases with exceptional compassion and patience, emphasizing how the primary source of his success is his ability to connect with those who had otherwise been abandoned. These helpless clients, along with his more direct ties like his adoption of Bookworm and his gentle mentorship of Wato, bring to mind how Sylphs are specifically known to be a "healing" class.

Workaholic Detective: Prince of Time

Time can be a difficult aspect to explain. Like Space, it tends toward the literal, though even in that sense I feel Workaholic is the best fit for it, what with his fixation on past wrongs and his relentless, sleepless march toward his target like a clockwork automaton. In a more figurative sense, Time can be associated with inevitability or even entropy, which evoke Workaholic's single-minded pursuit of justice despite knowing his own destruction was likely to occur alongside Renegade's. Princes are famously referred to as the "destroyer" class, and he certainly fits the bill, both erasing time with the sense of urgency created by his betrayal and also directly cutting short the "time" of those he killed.

Gourmet Detective: Witch of Void

The Void aspect represents both literal nothingness (like the hunger that plagues Gourmet even years after the tragedy that nearly starved her) and also secrets (like the undercover role she played for the FBI). Even Gourmet's facial expressions tend to be vacuous, revealing nothing of her true thoughts or motivations unless she reaches a breaking point. Witches are a vaguely defined class but are thought to be an active one, perhaps breaking the rules of their aspect to their advantage. If so, this could be connected to Gourmet's superhuman gastonomy and sense of smell--imagine an all-consuming black hole, where our very understanding of physics starts to break down--but either way she definitely wields both her hunger and her secrets with deliberate precision.

Techie Detective: Page of Life

Techie's is the classpect I am least certain/happy about, but to be perfectly honest I don't think ANY of the aspects are a clean fit for him. That said, of the ones that do feel related, Life seems like a decent choice for a few reasons--not the least of which is his well-established habit of anthropomorphizing inanimate gadgets and robots. One could say he "imbues them with life". I would argue that, like Bookworm, Techie is still early in his growth, and this is reflected in my assigning him as a Page. Pages are known for being the slowest to bloom but with some of the greatest potential of all the classes, which rings familiar when one considers the sections of his profile that describe him "stagnating" in the rankings and apprenticing under a capricious dandy. With proper support and guidance, Techie would certainly be on track to do great things with his future. While Renegade accuses him of relying on others too much, Techie's willingness to sacrifice his chair to save the others--even when that would mean giving up his own independence--serves as proof to me that he's well on his way to embodying the quintessential Life-bound trait of putting others' needs before his own.

...And, uh, that's everybody! Unfortunately these assignments mean the party's session was doomed the moment Workaholic fried himself. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ No frogs for you, detectives!

#Process of Elimination #Tyto plays PoE #Process of Elimination spoilers #ask #Anonymous #this post a couple days later than expected because I initially tried putting it in a bulleted list and tumblr ate half of what I wrote :^)#even on a second pass though I think this might be one of my favorite posts I've ever made on here lmao

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knightofhylia · 2 years

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Ouija Board Guide

I am so tired of people shitting their pants over Ouija boards. I went from using them every day, to hating them, to seeing them as every other divination tool I use. I will take your hand and guide you through every step so that people can stop being so terrified of a terrific spiritual tool.

They are not inherently evil. Just like tarot or runes, it’s just a form of communication.

Not everything on the other side is an evil demon out to get you. It’s like going out at night. You could be standing next to a serial killer or just some stoner kid. Just have spiritual pepper spray.

Is this going to curse my bloodline and ruin my crops? Probably not.

Picking a Board

There are soooo many options for this. Boards don’t have to be fancy, they just have to be usable. Here’s what I take into consideration when picking my boards.

Shape. Boards usually come in rectangle or circle shape with some variations. I’ve mostly used rectangles but this is more of an aesthetic choice.

Material. I’ve made boards out of paper plates and dixie cups and it still worked. I also have a fancy laser cut $100 one. You can make these bitches out of anything. I like wood because it’s sturdy. Cardboard works too. As long as it holds as you move the planchette around and you don’t get stuck on bumps it’s all good.

!!HOT TIP!! If your board is wobbly or sliding, you can either put furniture floor pads on the corners or dab a little hot glue or wax on the underside to keep it still and steady.

Size. I think about where I’m going to be using the board. Am I looking for something that is going to be mostly at home? Or do I need something to take with me? Where the fuck am I going to put it? How much arm work is it going to be getting around? How many people do I intend to have with me?

Planchette. Get something that’s comfortable. Using the board is not the most physically pleasant experience especially with long sessions so get something you can hold onto for a while if you need to. If you intend on doing this with a lot of people, get a big one so everyone has a space.

!!HOT TIP!! Put felt on the underside of your planchette so it glides smooth and doesn’t scratch the surface!

Can I read it? Are the letters legible enough for me to see in weird lighting or positions? Are the replies positioned clear enough away from each other? If you are making your own, it’s better to have it more spaced out so you can tell clearly which letter it is.

The Spiritual Talk

Look kid. I’m going to sit in this backwards chair and give you some advice. I was really dumb about my ouija board use and boy howdy it was not fun. BUT. I didn't die and I didn't curse my bloodline. Everyone is always so afraid to even touch the planchette but it just has a bad reputation. It’s a powerful tool that can be used really well or REALLY NOT. Unfortunately, the board has gotten a bad rap over the years as most of the people using it changed from cocaine-for-your-cough mediums in the 1800s to kids and teens trying to scare each other. Even if you aren’t a witch or magic user and just want to fuck around with it there is one thing I can’t recommend enough. Salt! I did experiments as a kid where I would be using the board and have a friend put salt around it and note the change in energy. It slows down so much, so it’s good to have around if you need something gone fast. This can also be in the form of a saltwater spray so it can be made with moon water or sun water. If you do use magic, casting a circle is highly recommended. This will grant you a little safety bubble! An easy way to do this is to put down a circle of eggshells or crystals like smokey quartz, citrine, and tigers eye.

That being said, the chance of you attracting a 'demon' or some kind of negative entity is pretty low with the right prep work and knowledge. Most of the things that people see as 'demonic activity' is literally just the spirit trying to communicate. You are more likely to contact a spirit that doesn't want to be bothered or a land spirit that's still pretty pissed about the colonization stuff.

Prep

It is highly worth the time to sit down and make a plan for what you are going to do with the board. Think about who you are going to contact and what questions you might be asking. Having them prewritten helps things go smoothly and makes it easier to write down the letters when the time comes. If you are trying to contact a specific spirit such as an ancestor I would suggest coming up with some form of code or sign from them. This could be a code word on the board or a certain song or sound like a bell chime or dog bark. If you are comfortable with possibly being touched by a spirit, ask your spirit to tap on your shoulder twice or knock on a wall. A lot of this relies on intuition, so if you aren't particularly intuitive I would bring someone along. Power is in numbers when it comes to ouija board but if you don't have friends willing to use it you are not alone. I'm not going to tell you to call upon a deity or angel if you haven't worked with them before, but if you do have a rapport you can call upon them to help you connect. If you don't have anyone on spiritual speed dial, you can call upon ancestors or your personal guide to help. Generally if I want a spirit to help me I try to phrase things like 'I call a capable spirit of good intentions to aid me in connecting me with xyz' this way you get someone who can a.) do the job (capable) b.) not attract some random spirit (good intentions) and c.) you are asking for assistance not a favour, less likely to have magickal backlash.

I find it's essential to have a candle with a board session for multiple reasons. Candles are a great sources of quick and pure energy to help make the board session as smooth and as little draining on you as possible. If you can't have candles, battery powered ones work as well. You won't be getting as much reaction, but they still serve as a light/power source. Candles are also great in communication! I look to the flame for clues in it's movement (swaying, flickering, growing, shrinking) and if it pops and cracks. For instance, I had mixed two spirits up, confusing the incarnations for each other and was doing some more research so I lit a candle for guidance. I kept referring to her as Elias when in fact that was her reincarnation. When trying to find her name, I got the idea of 'Elisa' and started looking into different forms of the names and as soon as I clicked on 'Elisabetta' the candle crackled very loud! I mostly take the crackles into context, it's hard to say when it's a yes or no. Crystals are also really good for boosted energy when using the board. I have a Satin Spar tower than I call 'the spiritual wifi' that I hold onto when I do board sessions and it helps a LOT.

Keep your first session short, especially if you are doing it alone. My first sessions with a spirit I usually ask basics like what they want to be called, some indication of pronouns/gender, and honestly that's about as far as I get sometimes. If I'm lucky I might get an age or a few words. Although it might be tempting to do everything in one sessions, that is usually where the trouble starts to come in as you get tired and lose focus.

"Rules"

Everyone seems to have their own rules for the board. Personally, I think most of them are bullshit. I'll go over a couple of the more popular ones and give a little from my experience.

1. Never use the board alone!

Bullshit. I do it all the time. It's just very draining and the answers are unclear. I guess you're technically susceptible to malevolent spirits because of the drain, but you're always going to be vulnerable when you're tired.

2. If the planchette leaves the board, or your hand leaves the planchette, you are releasing the demon!

Bullshit. While I HIGHLY RECOMMEND keeping contact with the planchette on the board board at all time, I have moved my hands off multiple times and never had any spirit set loose in my house to curse my family or whatever. It's more a strain on the quality of the connection than anything. It's hard to understand what someone is saying on the phone if they hang up and call again after every word!

3. Do not use it in your home!

Bullshit. I highly recommend having a separate space you go to do any spirit workings, but you aren't going to curse your house for using an ouija board. Just remember to prep and cleanse your space.

4. Do not use it in a graveyard!

Not totally bullshit! Graveyards are very spiritually dense places, so it may be hard to get a clear message, like trying to do a phone call in a mall. But I also think it is a great way to contact ancestors who are buried there! I think it's rude to bother spirits that aren't part of your lineage at a graveyard (unless they reach out), so be mindful and keep with usual graveyard etiquette. Also, in most states, it's illegal to be in a graveyard after dark anyway.

5. Always end your session with goodbye!

Not bullshit! It's just polite.

6. If the planchette goes over the alphabet and numbers in order, it's a malevolent spirit trying to take over!

SO BULLSHIT. Trust me, they are just trying to get a hang of using the board! Remember, it's probably been a while since they've had to READ. Give them time to get acquainted with the English Alphabet.

7. If the planchette is going in a figure 8 form it's an evil spirit!

More bullshit. I've had spirits that just like to move the planchette around or spin it in circles. More likely they don't understand the question or need time to answer.

8. Don't ask the board about your death!

Not entirely bullshit! Not because it's going to make it come sooner, but honestly, most of them aren't going to give that information out for free, and chances are they don't know. Things change too much for one ouija board session to determine your death.

9. Never use the board if you have mental illnesses!

Not entirely bullshit! The better mental state you are in, the better your session will be. If you are depressed the energy is going to be off. Answers may get skewed. Negative energy will attract more negative energy. However, as someone with many mental illnesses, you aren't banned from ever using the board. Just don't use the board during a major episode!

10. Never burn the board!

I mean... I GUESS. If you are trying to get rid of a spirit, just burning the board isn't going to do shit. The board is a tool and MOST times one spirit doesn't possess the whole board (despite what scary movies say). Usually it's not the boards fault either :(. Don't break the phone because you don't like the text you got!

How it works?

My favourite argument about Ouija boards is that 'even if you aren't aware of it, your subconscious is moving your hand so it's fake'. Yeah, my guy, I know. I know I am moving the planchette. SOMEONE HAS TO.

People seem to assume that the ghost is supposed to move the planchette and you just hold on, but that's a serious waste of energy when there is a perfectly good flesh vessel RIGHT THERE. In my experience, there are a few different way spirits use the board:

1. They physically move your hand/arm. This is pretty typical of my clown dolls, especially Hal. I can usually feel their hand on mine, either directly on top or interlocking fingers. They also move my arm sometimes.

2. They channel through you. This is pretty typical of spirit guides and deities. I keep my arm loose and it just goes where it goes. I don't think about the direction, I just follow my instincts. Sometimes I will feel pressure or a pull on one side of my hand, so I move it over there. Sometimes it's just SUPER hard to move the planchette a certain way. It's kind of like those games where one of you is blindfolded and you have to guide the other person through a room with just directions.

If you want to practice the feeling with no spiritual attachment, literally just hold a heavy cup or bottle. See how your arm naturally moves!

My Method and Tips

I am very particular about my set up for a board session but this is how I get the best results.

1. Have the board UNDER YOU. Usually, I sit on the floor with the board in front of me. I lean slightly forward over the board and keep my arm loose. If you are doing this with multiple people, only ONE of you needs to be leaning over it. Everyone else is for support. If you are worried about other people influencing your results, instead of having them touch the planchette, have them touch your back, shoulder, or leg.

2. If you are worried about influencing answers with your thoughts, repeat the question in your head. If a word DOES pop into your head, don't dismiss it right away. A lot of times I will get the answer in my head before it is spelled out, this is a part of clairaudience/claircognizant. It's always good to confirm with the board.

3. Start off with some yes or no questions to warm up. "Do you want to talk" is a good starter!

4. Don't be afraid to customize the board! I used a label maker to add a spot for spirits to tell me when they are too tired to continue. Once you interact with a few spirits you see they use some of the same words. They also use symbols on the board as well. I have eyes on my board and a lot of time they will go over to the eyes instead of spelling "Look". Stickers can work as well!

5. Be lenient on spelling and phrases. Chances are they aren't from the same area as you, or speak the same language, so things might get a little confusing along the way. Ask for confirmation on names and dates after they are done spelling "Is Bob the name you spelled?"

How to know when things are going bad?

Most people seem to confuse 'aggressive' reactions to 'malevolent' intentions. Banging, knocking, doors slamming, and hearing voices are all just ways spirits communicate. Even if the door slams or something breaks, that isn't an immediate DEMON alarm.

Some warning signs:

Vibe change. The feeling when someone you don't like walks in a room. The feeling when you're teacher is about to yell at you. The feeling when someone has been behind you for a little TOO long on your walk home. Gut feelings will tell you a lot. You may get overwhelmed by feelings, but I'm talking about THIS IS BAD NEWS. Feelings of dread or intense fear. A little apprehension and fear is normal, some spirits just have that presence, but if you're too overwhelmed, pack it up. If your energy suddenly drops, then it's. a good idea to close up.

Candle goes out. You aren't going to die, but that's probably a good sign to close up. Whatever is done is done.

Animals start acting uncomfortable. Most animals are sensitive to spirits, but if they seem unusually tense or anxious, it might be a good idea to be careful. Whatever the energy is, it is probably intense or very foreign to this plane.

It violates a boundary. I have strict 'No breaking glass' rules with my spirits because the sound is very triggering to me. If something glass breaks during a session then I close it. If the spirit touches you and it makes you uncomfortable then it's time to be over. Think of boundaries you would have with a stranger. This can also manifest as spirits bringing up triggering emotions, flashbacks, or memories.

It keeps trying to leave the board with the planchette. Rude and not part of the deal. YOU drive the planchette here.

Ending a session for whatever reason:

Say goodbye. Thank the spirit for its time and energy. End the session by dragging the planchette across the goodbye.

Cleanse your space. Incense, salt spray, sound, or crystals work. Cleanse the board as well to clear the energy out. (Make sure the smoke goes out the window!)

Ground yourself. Eat something, drink something, move your body a little bit. Take a nap if you are drained.

Store the planchette and the board so they are not touching each other! Keeps the portal closed and also makes sure your board doesn't get scratched up.

Again, as always, let me know if you have any questions or comments! I would be very interested in hearing others' tips for using the ouija board!

#ouija board #spirit board #divination #witchcraft #magic #spirituality #paganisn #halloween #spooky #paranormal #ghost investigation #ghost hunting #ghosts #ouija #hyah!#I HOPE ANY OF THIS MAKES SENSE #bokh dva'

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uzumaki-rebellion · 1 year

Text

“Black Boys Bloom Thorns First: Volume 4, Chapter 68″

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"You gave me a shoulder when I needed it You showed me love when I wasn't feeling it You helped me fight when I was giving in And you made me laugh when I was losing it

'Cause you are, you are The reason why I'm still hanging on 'Cause you are, you are The reason why my head is still above water"

Kina – "Get You The Moon"

Yani's heart thumped with erratic beats that nearly burst through her chest. Her thighs rested around N'Jadaka's waist and he peered down at her like a heavenly being studying his creation. The air in her mouth turned into a dry shortness of breath, and the percussive castanet rhythm of the blood pumping through her veins frightened her.

She wanted to lay with him. Yearned for the closeness of their bodies intertwining like sacred vines that would never separate in a garden of love that only they could make. The bed was set up like an enchanted canopy with a four-corner post that surrounded the round bed with gauzy red fabric drapes studded with tiny crystal lights that matched the twinkling of the stars outside in the sky. High above the cast-metal headboard decorated with fluffy red satin pillows, a woven wall-sized tapestry graced her eyes. Ancient Wakandan script told of a blessing poem, and her study of the language helped her decipher most of it. The bed they were sharing was called a loving bed, and the tapestry promised prosperity, love, and fecundity to all who slept there. Spiral shapes and delicate images of fire, air, water, and earth watched over them.

N'Jadaka sensed her anxious hesitation and his searing eyes turned tender as they used to when he knew she was nervous about something. He crawled over her and pulled back the thick duvet and sheets, inviting her to slip under them with him. She did so, moving carefully until she was curled into him, her face resting on his chest with his left arm cradling her close. Yani felt her heart thumping harder against his chest and he kissed her forehead to ease her mind. She stood on a precipice with him and looking down into the depths, Yani could make out a possible future with him that would have no turning back. Her years of raising their children alone had changed her into a woman who wanted to make better decisions in her life. Choosing to join with a king would shift her future choices considerably. The Udakus did not play about their offspring's partnerships. N'Jadaka had messed up the nature of their established protocols, but if he was to choose her in front of the world permanently, that meant the clan would expect marriage. She could become a Queen Consort and her role in the palace would dictate the rest of her life. They could restrict her work as a doctor. She'd have to take instruction from the elders like her children did that taught them their roles as heirs and royalty.

Shaking her head, she lifted a finger and traced around his right nipple, her mind racing with scenarios of what could happen if she made love to him. N'Jadaka was possessive in the past, and his assertive personality seemed more enhanced since his return to the palace. Spending the day with the family in a formal public setting taught her quickly how every single movement she made was watched, especially in how she interacted with him. Before heading to the pool to meet him in private, she had already witnessed the local news vids splashing images of them holding hands and hugging up next to each other. It was deemed salacious to the older Wakandans who expected pious behavior in public.

N'Jadaka was also under a lot of pressure. He kept most of his work private, but she knew he dealt with a lot on his plate. There were probably more responsibilities that he wasn't even prepared to handle, despite his intelligence and experience. He remained stoic and professional in the public eye, nurtured his children, assisted Disa and Twyla with their work, and went home alone to only work late into the night. He never made time for himself except for the lone walks in the royal garden. She caught him there twice during her stay in the palace. He never saw her because his brooding face stayed distracted with constant thoughts and she watched him from a distance. Sometimes he smoked a cigar. Sometimes he drank an amber liquid from a round glass and stared at the moonless sky. He looked lonely and not at peace with the world.

His hand drifted over the curve in her hip and he kneaded her backside, his fingers grazing against the soft separation of her ass cheeks. Under the heavy covers, his dick nudged her wrist with its hard heat.

They didn't speak, only held one another, listening to their mutual breathing, and gingerly shifting an arm or leg for comfort. Being there with him was going to be much bigger than being with him back on the island. He was a real-life king. A ruler of over six million people. Wakanda was the richest and most powerful nation in the world, and the man in complete control of it was rubbing on her booty and kissing her forehead. Yani never dreamed that she would be in the position she was in. Wakanda still felt unreal to her.

He played with her nipple and she leaned back so his fingers could fondle both breasts. She watched him stare at his own fingers pinching and circling her nipples. His breathing became slightly ragged. He licked his lips as his fingers trailed down her midsection and groaned "Oh… fuck," when he dipped eager digits into her drenched folds. He hissed as if her opening scorched his exploration.

His gentle insertion only went about an inch, just enough to touch the slippery wetness coating her walls under her clit. He knew how to manipulate her sensitive insides without the coarse erratic jamming that most men did to her in the past. The king took his time and investigated every part that led into her deeper with a teasing quality that set her on edge. When he inched back to her clit again, she pulled back the covers more and lowered her head to suck on the head of his dick. It stretched her lips and stuffed her mouth, already making her jaws ache with the effort to please him. He tasted earthy… salty…sweeter when she flicked her tongue-tip into his slit where pre-cum dribbled into her mouth clear and sticky.

N'Jadaka stared at her mouth work, poking his lips out the moment she traced her tongue along the underside of his length. She sprinkled tiny kisses around the thick ridge of his frenulum, tickling it while licking warm saliva down the center. Popping the head into her mouth, she sucked on it slowly, letting her tastebuds give it plenty of friction and tension with the constant fondling of his balls.

"Damn… Yani… baby…"

"Yes, your highness," she said.

She made her eyes look coquettish and innocent the way he liked her to look when she sucked on that big meat. There was something illicit to him staring at her while she pretended to not know why he was panting and moaning her name. The direct eye contact with her plump lips slowly sucking his tip like a lollipop weakened him every time. He once told her she looked provocative doing it like they were about to get caught. It was the exhibitionist in her he rationalized. She fed into the scenario just the way she did when they role-played her being a wife getting caught by her husband. He enjoyed the idea of taking her from someone, it was why he nutted harder when she played a wife instead of the secret side-piece.

She rested her mouth by slapping his dick softly against her moist lips. The size of his dick against her face got him off too. Licking a throbbing vein on the side of his girth, she gave herself time to sniff the pleasing aroma of his pubic hairs. His scent was heavy with cocoa and coffee beans, a favorite body butter combo to rub all over on special occasions. Sucking his balls, she lifted them and shuffled herself between his legs to tend to them well. His sack rose up closer to his body, a sign that he was ready to release. Slowing down her attention even more, she kept her eyes on his like the sweet young thing he needed to soothe his political worries. Twirling her tongue in deliberate silky circles back up to the tip, she bobbed her head in his lap. Her slurps and tiny nibbles with her teeth made him buck his hips. He fucked her mouth with desperate thrusts, clamping her head with his hands to hold her in place. Using her hand and lips together, she pleasured him at her pace, pushing away his forceful grip and wielding all the power to tame him. N'Jadaka was the king… but she was royalty too. He made her that way and she sucked him down with the gifts of a desired pampered princess.

Smacking her lips, she pulled her mouth away from his dick and gave him a wanton stare. He gasped and his body shuddered with the change of direction with her loving. She had him in a frenzy moments before but wanted to enjoy the dizzy look of ecstasy in his eyes. Kneeling inside his thighs, she lifted her breasts and stuffed his dick between them. There was a rumble in his chest.

"Fuck!" he shouted.

Her breasts were heavier and hung a little lower which was perfect by the way he grunted and begged her for more. Pursing her lips, she rubbed her big tits up and down. The tip of his dick peaked out from her cleavage and she held her tongue above it, letting it swipe against the spongy texture.

N'Jadaka held his hand up the way he did when he wanted people to stop talking to him. It was something everyone watched out for when in proximity to him. She clutched her tits and a string of saliva dripped onto his slit.

"Let me taste you… the way I did that first time," he commanded.

His lusty gaze had her hustling to lie down on her back. He turned over and held her breasts, taking time to suck on her nipples and around her areolas. Lifting his face toward her, Yani met him halfway so they could kiss and swirl their tongues. Her pussy was swollen past normal engorgement. The deep arousal she felt seemed to spiral into her stomach and up to her throat. Every erogenous zone opened up tendrils of electrical sparks. Each place he touched her, from her earlobes to her jeweled toes, burst into fiery songs of the flesh. He woke up the erotic in her supple skin, moaning loud vibrations everywhere, and once his lips kissed her sugary wet folds that stayed parted for him, she came with a torrent of shrieks to God.

Yani mashed his face into her vulva and squeezed her thighs around his head. He gripped her hips and lapped up her release. Moaning into her opening, he accepted the nectar flowing across his tongue. She jammed her face into a pillow, whimpering his name endlessly, sweat falling into her eyes and pooling in her belly button. N'Jadaka raised himself and rubbed his dick on her sensitive folds. He lorded over her and humped Yani's mound, his perspiration raining down on her. His gold claw necklace glinted with the tiny lights on the drapes, and the shine of his smokey brown eyes burned into her soul. The head of his dick pulsed against her opening and he waited for permission to enter her depths. He dragged his loving gaze all over her body, his soft breathing expectant and raspy.

"Yani, if you're not really ready, it's okay," he said.

He rubbed his right hand across her smooth fade when she didn't answer. Moving onto his haunches, he separated from her, giving her space. She lifted to her knees and met him face-to-face. Her voice trembled as she spoke.

"I love you so much… I was hurt for so long when you came back. There's so much I want from you… I'm still finding my way in this new world but this thing with us… it never went away. I feel it… all around us. If you want me, you must treat me with the utmost respect. My love is conditional now. Our family has to come first before the nation. You wear yourself down to the bone every day and that is something I will not accept with our young children. We need more time together as a unit, doing things together away from the rest of the Udaku family," she said.

"I hear you and I will do that. But on one condition of my own."

"What's that?"

"You return to the palace with Sweet Pea and Dumplin after I come back from the States."

"Where will we stay?"

"For now, the suite you are in for the conference. This space has a private wing for royal spouses, so you'll have your own room in here after the formal courting."

She grinned.

"I like that you have to follow rules to have me," she said.

"I don't want to just have you, Yani. I want to make you my wife someday."

N'Jadaka left the bed and padded over to a dark ironwood dresser and pulled open a drawer. He lifted delicate, triple-stringed blue vibranium waist beads sprinkled with precious glittery jewels.

"I had these made after your conference speech. Been waiting to present them to you. A lot is going on and I never had a chance to pull you aside until now. Do you know what these are?"

"Not really. I see fashionable noblewomen wearing them in the city. Fancy jewelry," she said.

"My father gave some to my mother when he claimed her… that's what they call it here. You give them to the woman you want to call your own… publicly. When you wear them, the world knows you've been taken for courtship. It takes you off the market."

Yani held her cheeks with both hands.

"Will you allow me to claim you, Princess Yani Galiber?"

N'Jadaka unfastened the clasp of the waist beads and held them out to her.

"I'm on a transformative path and I want you by my side," he said.

She touched the beads, and let their elegant beauty run across her palms.

"I accept them," she said.

He nodded vigorously and his bottom lip trembled, matching the tremors in his hands as he held the offering to her. She scooted to the edge of the high bed on her knees, and he draped the beads around her waist. She raked her fingernails through his locs, knocking the high bun on the top of his head over. His locs fanned out all across his shoulders.

"Thank you," he whispered into her mouth.

She nuzzled her cheek against his and hugged him tightly.

"This is our time, hear me?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded.

"You're precious to me. All I ever wanted to do for you was to make you happy and see to it that you and Sydette thrived, no matter if I was in the picture or not. I will spend the rest of my days making up for the pain I gave you… not just with Disa… but how I left you in St. Thomas. I thought disappearing without contact was best to protect you, but life had different plans for us. I should've stayed there—"

"No."

Yani shook her head.

"I know now that this was meant to be. You were supposed to be the king, and because of that, I can do so much for so many with my work," she said.

She wiped away tears that sprouted in her lids.

"You are a gift, King N'Jadaka. A gift to the world that needs justice and help. I will stand by you to make sure everything changes according to your plans and mine. I'm stronger…wiser, and mi have a purpose beyond that small island you found me on."

His warm full lips crashed over hers, hushing up words that didn't need to be spoken. They were united again. That's all that mattered. She accepted whatever would come to them as a couple.

"Oh!" she squealed when he lifted her like she was a tiny doll.

His strength was unbelievable with the sacred heart-shaped herb flowing deep in his veins enhancing the trace elements that were already in his DNA from his father. He slid her on his dick down to the root and her mouth shot open with a loud gasp of shock. He gripped her thick ass cheeks and thrust in and out, never giving her a second to catch her breath. The stretching of her pussy snapped her concentration onto holding his neck with a death grip. She gulped air with her mouth pressed against his temple. His balls smacked her heavy rump while the friction of his dick forced rhythmic clenching inside her pussy. The stamina of his fucking astounded her. Drowsy with lust, Yani became catatonic as she accepted his fat dick claiming her properly. She forgot how his lovemaking overwhelmed her. It was even more profound than before, blowing her mind completely.

The only noise in the room was her pussy squelching and being all gushy for his thrusts. All the panting noises she made near his ear spurred him to lift her on and off his dick with artful handling. His continuous groans made her walls quake and twitch with every swivel of his hips. He spun around and sat on the bed, and they both moved together to the center where she stayed mounted above him. N'Jadaka tucked his hands under his head and watched her wind her hips and cup her breasts. Leaning forward, she let her tits hang in his face, taking shallow thrusts from his dick. Kissing him until he withered into submission, Yani bounced on his dick, balancing her hands on his wide chest, giving him everything he'd been missing.

"Fuck me…harder baby…yessssss… like that…shit… keep doing that… so nasty with all this good pussy…"

He became delirious, thrashing his head and squeezing her breasts, pushing them together so that they made a smacking sound. She rode him well and they both listened to her ass cheeks smack against his thighs and balls. He liked having his large sack pounded by a fat ass, so she leaned in further until her face was on a pillow and her back arched higher to slam down on him better. Her king yelped and clawed the sheets.

"Yani…ah fuck… Yani…Yani… I'm finna cum…. Oh! I'm 'bout to nut all in you… you ready for me, baby?"

She leaned back and allowed him to witness all of her prowess, plucking at her nipples and wiggling her hips in achingly slow circles until he was begging her to cum on his dick at the same time as his orgasm.

"Cum on my dick… please… Yani… cum on Daddy's dick!"

His fingers slithered up her waist and tugged on her waist beads. They were so pretty on her and he seemed dazzled by them as they tinkled with a dainty sound like tiny bells. She stared into his eyes which had glazed over and turned into something different. The begging had stopped and the eyes peering up at her were his, but somehow not his at the same time. Lifting up from the bed, he smashed his chest into hers and kept still, forcing Yani to do the work while he watched her face contort with bliss. She held his shoulders and swallowed that dick with her deep pussy, startled by the sudden change in his demeanor.

"Fuck me, fuck your king," he growled.

The throaty demand gave her goosebumps. For a split second, she thought she heard two messages in the command like there was someone else controlling his body. It fired up her need to show how good she fucked. She lifted her leg and turned to face the opposite direction. Rolling her hips seductively, she learned on the fly how to make her waist beads jingle in time to her sensual fucking. Looking back at him, a shiver shot up her spine.

A powerful king glared at her with molten lust.

He smacked her ass, rubbed, squeezed it, and demanded that she show out for him. It felt like a waterfall of sweat poured down her back, but she had something to prove. She was his woman. The one he claimed and beaded. He grunted and groaned watching her perform magic with her backside and pussy. She gave him king things.

"Lemme clap them cheeks," he said, palming her rump and pushing her forward until she was sucking on the duvet mewling and whimpering that she couldn't take anymore.

He spanked her ass several times, correcting her position with his palm on the arch of her back, forcing her head down even lower and her ass up higher. He grabbed her left arm and held it behind her back for balance.

"Shit!" he gasped.

The clapping sounds were so loud.

"You miss this dick?" he asked.

"Yes!" she shouted, pressing her lips into a thin line to hold back her whimpering.

"Cum on it then," he said, tugging on her arm gently. "Cum for your king."

He pushed his thumb in her ass and the nerve endings came alive with the added pressure of her pussy stuffed with so much dick. She rubbed her swollen clit to gauge how much more she could take without crying for mercy. He didn't give her enough time to figure it out. His dick swelled inside her tight walls and she reveled in the long hot spurts that warmed up her pussy. With a twist of her hip, she let go and throbbed all over his girth, making another wet mess to match the one he flooded her with. She didn't have time to come down from the high of milking his dick, he had already pushed into her ass making her belly tumble. He palmed both sides of her ass and plunged in a few more inches and stopped to let her get used to it again. She needed the gentle acclimation and soon enough they were back into their groove. He smothered his body all over her, mashing her into the mattress, his mouth pressed into the shell of her ear talking the nastiest love talk she had ever heard from him. Every stroke made her gasp for air to find words that never formed completely in her mouth to answer him back.

"Letting me fuck you in your ass again… such a good girl…pleasing your king so much tonight. We need to do some more practicing so I can go balls deep next time," he said.

She loved it. Loved how he moved inside of her. His dick felt even harder, ready to go all night, and she would give him everything. He gave her long probing wet kisses and the weight of his body locked her down. Their tongues slid together in sensual harmony.

"Fuck that dick… ooh shit, I'm almost all up in there… love fucking you in the ass, Ma…"

He caressed her breasts and enjoyed himself, giving her more than she could handle, pushing her to go further with him. His voice hitched and she prepared to receive fresh hot cum.

"Baba! You in there?"

They both froze at the sound of Riki's voice outside the bedroom door.

"Shit," N'Jadaka muttered under his breath.

His dick throbbed in her ass expecting to shoot off another thick nut. Cum already spewed out from her pussy and soaked the duvet. Small fists pounded on the door.

"Baba? What are you doing?" Riki called out.

N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo beads and they saw all three of their children standing outside. Their night nanny waited downstairs on the third level holding three small jackets for the moon deck.

"I'm waking up Lil Man. I overslept," N'Jadaka yelled back.

"Open the door, I wahn come in! We have to go see the fireworks!"

"Go downstairs and wait for me. I'll get dressed real quick…okay?" N'Jadaka said.

"Baba, is Mama in there with you?" Sydette asked.

"Um…"

"Her kimoyos say she's here," Sydette said.

"Hurry up, Baba, the ice cream will melt," Joba shouted from behind the heavy wooden double doors.

"Your Mama is sleep, and I'm reading a book," N'Jadaka said.

Yani jammed her mouth into the covers to keep from laughing out loud. N'Jadaka's erection pulsed inside her ass. He was reading a book alright.

"Why won't the door open?" Riki whined, jiggling the doorknob.

"He never keeps the door locked," Sydette said.

"I'll wake Mama up and we'll see you guys in a minute," N'Jadaka said.

N'Jadaka tapped his kimoyo and little feet shuffled away. He proceeded to finish his pleasuring, humping on Yani with urgent purpose, his tongue tickling her ear with the explicit language she expected from him when he was ready to bust hard. She was ready to be baptized with creamy cum.

"I'ma nut all in this big—"

"Baba, open the door!"

Riki hadn't left the bedroom door.

Yani snorted and Riki heard her.

"Mama, you up?"

"I'm up Dumplin. Go on and wait with your sisters like Baba asked you to," Yani said.

"I'll wait here. Baba… are you dressed yet?"

N'Jadaka grumbled in Yani's ear so that only she heard him.

"Baba is about to nut in ya Mama boy, go away," N'Jadaka whispered to Yani.

Yani smacked his arm and chortled, and N'Jadaka's voice hitched. She looked back at him and the man had gritted his teeth. There was a wild look in his eyes as he pounded her.

"Soundproof the room," she whispered to him.

"I can't, this part of the palace is older and doesn't have soundproofing. I haven't installed it yet since I moved in," he huffed.

His controlled exertion turned her on more. Trying to stay quiet intensified their lovemaking. Slowing his strokes had him whimpering to hide his moans from his son. It was too soon for the children to know they were having relations on that level in a bedroom together before the formal announcement of their courting.

The patter of Riki's feet finally left the door and N'Jadaka pressed his forehead on the duvet next to her face.

"You feel so good… ooh… fuck me, Daddy. I need your cum in my ass. Show me I'm your woman… show me you love me," she purred.

A roar burst from his throat as he exploded in her ass, soaking her deep. His dick kept throbbing and pushing out cum until he collapsed on her back.

"That was fucking insane, Yani…goddamn you know how to make a man nut hard!"

He jiggled her right ass cheek before smacking it hard. Pulling her toward him, he kissed her, groaning as he did it. He fell onto his back and stared up at the high ceiling to collect himself.

"Shit, I don't know if I can do that formal courting now with all the chaperones… I'ma want you every night after this," he said.

Yani lifted onto her knees and sat back on her heels. Fingering her waist beads, she realized she was in total control of his passions for the rest of his life. By giving her the beads, tradition held that his family would enforce the rules of royal courtship. The Wakandan public would eat it up and N'Jadaka would have to fall in line to please the people. She symbolically had him by the dick. Giggling, she covered her mouth to keep from outright laughing at him.

"What?" he said, still gulping for calming breath.

His dick remained stiff. Her sticky juices made his pubic hair shiny. She decided to push him over the cliff for good. There was one thing he loved doing to women when he was sexual and wanted to show dominance. Stepping off the bed, Yani dropped to her knees in front of it. She batted her lashes and placed her hands on her thighs. N'Jadaka was already up and sitting on the edge, stroking himself, his eyes raking all over the submissive stance. She widened her thick thighs so he could see her smooth brown mound and fleshy folds better. Her king stood up, fisting under the head of his dick, his pupils blown, his lips curled into a seductive sneer. His aura filled the entire bedroom and the hairs on her arms rose up as he stared at her.

"Open your mouth… stick that tongue out…"

She obeyed and tilted her head back. He fondled her right breast and shoved the head of his dick against her tongue. Stroking and twisting under his frenulum, his eyes narrowed as a surge of pleasure flowed over him.

Hot ropes of cum drenched her face. Long creamy white lines coated her tongue and he stepped back, aiming his bulbous tip, his slit opening and spurting more of his powerful release. He shouted her name, loud enough to make the sound echo in the room. N'Jadaka's semen blessed him with ownership over her lush form in her submissive pose. But they both knew the truth. She owned him body and soul.

"Yani… fuck… Yani…"

He babbled her name, his orgasm making his thick dick jump in his hand. She blinked a few times to avoid getting hit in the eyes, but he kept cumming until he staggered and hit the bed with the back of his thighs. He threw his head back and exhaled with a rush of jagged air.

Yani ran her hands up his legs and thighs until she rested them on his hard belly.

"We need to go," she said.

He lifted her up and took her to his master bedroom's bathing room. Showering together quickly, he dried up first and changed his clothes.

"I'll take the kids down to the moon deck. You can sneak over to your suite and change," he said.

She kissed him while drying off, and he left the bedroom quickly to save face with their children.

Chapter 69 HERE.

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#Black Boys Bloom Thorns First Volume 4 #Wakanda Forever #killmonger fanfiction #killmonger smut #Erik Killmonger #Namor #Black Panther Fanfiction #Pantherverse #Wet Sugar 2 #Uzumaki Rebellion #Uzumaki Rebellion Writes

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bluevelvetgvf · 2 years

Text

gate & garden: five

jake kiszka x fem!reader (childhood best friends to lovers...)

MASTERLIST 7.4k words

A/N: I do not claim to, nor do I know Greta Van Fleet; they are all real people with real lives, this is an entirely fictional work.

Life was full of unexpected twists and turns. It went fast, things were changing all the time, and that was very prominent going into the second semester of junior year. The recurring question of what to do with your life was looming over their heads.

Students were beginning to plan for their futures, seriously. Planning college visits, taking PSAT and SAT tests, applying for scholarships, etc. Y/N was growing anxious with the unknowns of senior year, and life after school coming at her head-on.

She had many conversations over dinner with Mom and Dad about her future. And shockingly, they supported her decision to professionally pursue dance. They all agreed she needed a backup plan however, but that wasn’t as big of a worry, as she kept her grades up. She was in the top ten students in her class.

Plan A: professional dance. Whether she ended up on Broadway, television and movies, or in a touring company, she didn’t care, as long as she was dancing, she was happy.

Plan B: psychology. It wasn’t her first choice, nor even her second, but it was a plausible, reasonable fallback if dancing didn’t work out.

And the most absurd, and last possible outcome, Plan C: go pro with Jake and the band. (She had little to no faith in their little side-show act going any further than their weekly Fischer Hall gigs, but a girl can dream).

It was just after Christmas break, the first week back to school. School was back in session, and rehearsals for the spring musical, “Suessical” were in full-swing. And so was winter.

Winter in Michigan was about as fun as it sounded. Freezing cold temperatures, accompanied by harsh wind chills, unpredictable snow squalls, freezing rain, and any snow storm could turn into a blizzard.

Winter in Michigan was bad enough, but it was even worse for new drivers, such as Josh, Jake, and Y/N. The twins had gotten their licenses in October (Jake had to take the test twice), and Y/N received her’s just three weeks before Christmas.

The twins shared a vehicle their parents had so graciously provided for them. And Y/N went halfsies on her car with her parents. Being a licensed driver was a new, and exhilarating experience for the three teens. Granted, they all still had curfews, and rules and obligations, but the convenience of being able to take themselves (and their siblings) to and from school and extracurricular activities was too good to pass up. Not to mention the late-night drives, or random gas-station snack runs.

Josh and Y/N especially enjoyed being able to take themselves to and from musical practice. They enjoyed musical practice regardless, the pair finally being able to shine onstage together, in two of the lead roles in the show.

Much to Jake’s dismay, his brother and best friend spent what seemed like every waking hour, not in school, rehearsing for their play. Which he was also informed, was not a play, it was a musical.

Tonight, the two became one, when a freak snowstorm was set to hit Frankenmuth just as musical practice let out. The director was considerate enough to dismiss her students early, to assure they would get home safely.

Y/N however, wasn’t worried. Her car had all-wheel drive, and she was extremely cautious, even without the presence of snow, so she didn’t see a problem in staying a little later than her cast-mates to go over some notes with the director. School had already been cancelled for the next day, in anticipation for the snow to continue through the night, so her mind was already made up.

She had texted Jake before rehearsal ended, alerting him that she would be late to his house. Mom had said it was okay for her to stay over, since school was cancelled.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna just leave?” Josh had asked, an extremely concerned look on his face. “I’ll follow you home.”

“No Josh, I’ll be fine. It’ll be a twenty-minute difference, tops.” And without another word of argument, Josh left.

She stayed for about thirty minutes, going over specific scenes and staging with the director, before they both decided it was best if they headed on their way, before it got too bad.

Y/N mentally prepared herself for the ride, a ride which normally took fifteen minutes, would probably take close to an hour, being as cautious as possible.

She didn’t turn on the radio, the only sound in the car was the sound of her hazard lights on as she made the agonizingly slow drive home. She took turns slowly, only tapped the break when needed, and left more than enough time for her to come to a complete stop before stop signs and traffic lights.

She turned down the road that lead to her house. She was in the home-stretch. Snow-covered trees lined either side of the road, and there was nothing else to see for miles.

She was going slow, only twenty miles an hour. She was less than a mile from the house. Then, seemingly out of thin air, another vehicle appeared, rapidly approaching in the opposite lane.

Y/N gripped the steering wheel, keeping her composure as best she could with the person coming towards her. Even from far away, she could tell they were driving too fast for the conditions.

The headlights grew closer, and before she could comprehend what was happening, it was too late. The other car swerved, loosing control on an unseen patch of ice, and it’s front end collided with her driver’s side door.

She didn’t even have time to hit the breaks.

The sound of squealing tires, the sickening crunch of metal and glass, and then, pure silence. And everything went black.

When Y/N came to, her ears were ringing. It took a mere few seconds to readjust to her surroundings, but when she did, she immediately wished she would’ve went back to sleep.

Her head throbbed intensely, and the monotonous sound of her hazard lights clicking made her head ache worse. Her vision was a little blurry, and an eery chill ran through her bones.

A few blinks, and she was back to reality, fully. Then she remembered what happened, where she was, and the panic set in.

She reached down, jamming her freezing fingers into the seat belt button. It wouldn’t come loose. To her right, everything was fine. It seemed fine. To her left however, it was far from fine.

Her windshield was shattered completely, fat snowflakes falling softly onto her hair. And her driver’s window and door were completely and utterly demolished. Just a chunk of crumbled metal, and squished between the metal and her steering wheel, was her left leg.

She let out a terrified gasp, her hand flying to her face, which was wet. Pulling her hand back from her mouth, her fingers covered in blood. This was bad. This was so very, horribly bad.

The sight of her leg made her sick to her stomach, as did the blood from her nose, and the severity of the entire situation. How would she get out? Where was the other driver? So many questions swirled through her head, if she wasn’t dizzy already, she would’ve been just from that.

Her body seemed to work, as best it could, of it’s own accord. She used all her strength to stretch her body across the seat beside her, digging carefully through her discarded bag to find her phone.

She didn’t think, she couldn’t. Her fingers simply pressed the most recent contact on her phone. Hands shaking furiously, she waited as the line rang.

Jake was riddled with anxiety to begin with, with the impending snowstorm, and his brother and best friend attending musical practice all the way across town. His nerves weren’t calmed, when he received a text from Y/N stating that she would be staying at the school a little later than the others. He wanted to drive down there himself and drag her out of the school and demand her to come home, but Josh had the car.

Josh arrived home exactly when he said he would, with word that Y/N should arrive twenty minutes later. But twenty minutes turned into an hour, and now Jake was sitting, wide awake, picking at the seam of his sweatpants, anxiously waiting for his best friend to arrive.

Ronnie had gone to bed. Sam was in the living room with Mom and Dad watching a movie, and Josh had gotten into the shower. Where was Y/N- Jake was pulled from his thoughts by the vibrating of his phone on the pillow at the head of his bed.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight of Y/N’s contact name on the screen.

He scrambled to pick up the phone, eagerly pressing the accept button and holding it to his ear. He tried to play it cool. “Hey, Y/N where are you, it’s been like an hour?”

A moment of silence, then a panting breath. “Jake?” Y/N’s voice sounded strained, Jake assumed it was from the intense musical rehearsals she had been going through. “Jake-“

“Yeah it’s me. Everything okay?” Jake frowned, unsure what to make of her strange behavior.

Another moment of silence. “Jakey-“ Y/N’s voice cracked. It sounded as if she was doing everything she could to keep it together emotionally. “Jakey-“ She said again, this time a little clearer. “Something bad happened.”

Jake’s stomach churned. “Y/N, what’re you talking about? What’s wrong?” His best friend let out a heart-wrenching sob. “Where are you? What’s going on? Please talk to me-“

“I was almost home Jake!” She sobbed, pure terror in her voice. “I’m just down the road, they came out of nowhere!”

Holy shit. Before Jake knew what he was doing, he was flying down the hallway and down the stairs, almost tripping over the rug as he came to a halt in the living room, gathering his parents attention. “Y/N, calm down- Try to calm down, tell me where you are!” Jake was trying to stay calm too, but she sounded so scared.

Those few words made the world stop in the Kiszka house. All eyes turned to Jake. “I’m down the road.” She replied, unsure. “I’m stuck Jake, I can’t get out.” She whimpered, sniffling tears away.

Jake’s body worked without his brain, rushing to the front door and pulling his snow boots and coat on. “Jake, what’s wrong?” Dad asked, following his son around. “Jake!” He shouted, demanding his attention.

“Y/N-“ Jake’s voice cracked. He was terrified. “It’s Y/N. She’s been in an accident, she said she’s stuck, dad I have to go get her.” Jake tried to keep it together, but the tears rolled before he could stop them.

Everything moved in slow motion. Sam jumped up from the couch and ran upstairs, presumably to wake Ronnie and drag Josh from the bathroom. Mom was on the phone in an instant, probably with the cops. And Dad was right by Jake’s side, pulling on his winter gear.

“Y/N?” Jake asked into the phone. “Hey, are you there?”

A momentary shuffle. “Yeah Jakey, I’m here.”

“Don’t move a muscle, okay? Me and Dad are coming to get you, and Mom called the police, they’re gonna come help.”

Jake’s hands were shaking as he held the phone to his ear. He and Dad booked it to the car, going as fast as they could, with the extreme conditions.

“Jake?” Y/N’s voice sounded quiet over the speaker.

“I’m here. I’m coming.” He swallowed harshly.

“I’m so scared Jake.” She whispered.

Jake felt his heart shatter into a trillion pieces. “It’s gonna be fine, okay? We’re coming. I’m coming to get you, just be brave. Just be brave a few more minutes.”

“Jake…” Her voice grew quiet, as if it was an unfinished thought.

“Y/N? Hey, Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jake began to panic. “Y/N, can you hear me?” There was no answer. “Dad! Dad, she won’t answer me! Dad!” He gripped the sleeve of his dad’s jacket, fearing for his best friend’s life.

“Just hang on Jake, we’re almost there.” His dad reassured him, Kelly himself not even able to disguise the fear in his voice.

Within the minute, they approached the wreck site, and it was catastrophic. Y/N’s car seemed to be in better condition than the other vehicle, which was completely overturned in the ditch on the side of the road. But nevertheless, Y/N’s car was destroyed.

The entire windshield was shattered, the roof peeled back in the front corner, near the driver’s side. The entire driver’s side was crushed, and squished perfect in the middle of the wreckage, was a now unconscious, Y/N.

Jake just about exited the car before it was fully in park, sliding across the icy road to reach his best friend. “Y/N!” He shouted, tears rolling down his cheeks. Please be okay, please let her be alive. He preached inside his head. He couldn’t lose her.

In the distance, blue and red emergency lights were approaching.

Jake skidded to a halt beside the car. Through all of the debris, he couldn’t reach her. He could see her, alone, phone in-hand, covered in blood, and trapped.

Dad did his best to get to her, but the damage was too extensive. They waited by her side for the emergency personnel to arrive. That’s when Jake blacked out.

When he came to, he was at the hospital, slouched in a chair in the emergency room, with Dad beside him. Y/N’s parents were across from them, looking worse for wear themselves.

“What happened?” Jake asked, voice groggy.

At the sound of his voice, all three adults perked up. Y/N’s mother looked like she’d seen a ghost. “Y/N was in an accident.” Dad reminded him.

Duh. Jake wanted to say. How could he forget that? “Yeah, yeah.” He nodded, reorienting himself. “Is she okay? Where is she?”

Y/N’s father cleared his throat. “She’s in surgery right now bud.” He sighed, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Her femur was shattered, pinned between the seat and the steering wheel. And she’s got a severe concussion, and a broken nose. But she’ll make a full recovery.”

Jake let out a breath of air. She would make a full recovery. “The other guy?”

“He’s in critical condition.” Her dad shrugged. “Toxicology reported his BAC was over twice the legal limit, so even if he does wake up, his ass is going to jail for a very long time.”

Jake nodded, relief washing over his body.

The four of them sat in silence, patiently waiting Y/N’s departure from surgery. Jake continued to play the night’s events in his mind. And the severity of her injuries. Broken nose, concussion, those were relatively easy recoveries. Broken femur, however? Brutal.

A broken femur would take at least half a year to heal fully. And she’d be on the bench for track, dance, and summer theatre intensive. He knew she’d be crushed.

“Why don’t you go back to sleep buddy?” Dad suggested, nudging him. “We’ll be here awhile.”

Jake nodded, settling himself back into his seat comfortably, Dad’s jacket draped over him like a blanket. He dreamt about what life was like before that night.

When Y/N awake again, she was in a hospital bed. It was warm, blankets tucked all around her. Her head ached furiously, and everything was fuzzy. “Hey sweetie.” She heard someone say. Everything was muted.

Her head rolled to the side. It was Mom. And Dad. “Mom?” She mumbled, unsure of her visitors.

“Yeah, its me. Dad’s here too.”

She let out a sigh, rolling her head to the other side. Two more figures stood before her. “Hey there sleeping beauty.” A voice said softly.

Sleeping beauty? If she had better control over her body, she’d roll her eyes. “Jake?” She whispered, squinting her eyes to focus. It was Jake. “What happened?”

“You were in an accident honey.” Dad spoke this time. Her eyes didn’t leave Jake. “But Jake found you, and you’re at the hospital. You’re going to be fine.”

Slowly, she nodded her heavy head, rolling it back to face forward. Her eyes finally adjusted to the light, and that’s when it hit her. Her left leg was suspended in the air by a sling, the entirety of it, wrapped in a soft cast. “Mom-“ She said, eyes growing wide. “What’s on my leg?”

Y/N felt bile rise in her throat. Her worst nightmare was coming true.

“Honey, please stay calm. Everything’s going to be fine-“

“Mom!” She demanded, tears filling her eyes. “What’s on my leg!” She couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down her face.

“You were pinned between the seat and the steering wheel honey, it shattered your femur.” Dad answered this time. His bedside mannered needed work.

“No!” She wailed, shaking her head in disbelief. “No, no, no, no-“ She sobbed, rolling her head back onto the pillow. This was it, her entire life’s work ended, in the blink of an eye.

No more dance.

Broken femurs were incredibly rare, and due to the sheer dimensions of the bone, recovery processes lasted longer than other bones. Four months, minimum, potentially a year if things moved slowly.

She hadn’t taken a day off from dancing since kindergarten.

The combination of the sheer emotional weight of the situation, the drugs she was being administered, and the realization of her entire life's work coming to an end sent her into a frenzy.

Her heart was beating erratically, she couldn't stop the tears from falling, and heartbreaking sobs ripped through her chest. This was worse than when Jake broke his arm. A thousand times worse.

Jake winced, each cry she let out, chipping away at his heart. "Y/N-" Her mother spoke, reaching a hand down to comfort her daughter

"You don't understand mom!" She wailed, flinching away from her touch. "My life is over!"

Jake watched her mother's face fall, realizing how heartbroken her child was. Beside him, Dad said something, then he, and Y/N's parents exited the room, leaving him alone with her.

Jake sat for a few minutes, letting her work her way through her fit. He would be there when she was ready.

"Jake." She croaked, her voice hoarse.

He sighed, peering down at her. She looked pitiful, if he was being perfectly honest. Bandages on her nose, her cheeks and eyes swollen and bruised. A heart monitor on her finger, a BP wrap on her arm, and two different IVs in either hand. Not to mention her suspended leg.

"Jake." She pressed, begging for his attention.

"Hm?" He asked, afraid of what she was going to say.

"It's bad, isn't it?" She whispered, tears swimming in her eyes.

Jake nodded, clearing his throat. "I thought you were dead." He whispered, lip quivering. He didn't want to relive that moment. "When you called me- I've never been that scared before. And then you went silent, I thought I lost you.

I never thought it would be as bad as it actually was though. Y/N, it looked like your car was crushed, like a soda can! And there you were, just lying in the middle of all that metal, covered in blood."

Jake inhaled shakily, blinking away tears. "That guy is a fucking idiot, and if he ever wakes up from that coma, he's gonna rot in jail-"

"He's in a coma?" She gasped, making Jake look back at her. "Oh God-"

"You feel bad for the other guy?!" He couldn't believe what she was saying. "He ruined your life Y/N! Your dreams are done, don't you understand that-"

"Yes Jake, obviously I understand that! Jesus Christ!" She snapped back. "But I don't wish ill on anyone for it!"

"His BAC was twice the legal limit! In the middle of a snowstorm! He could've killed you! How are you not more angry?" Jake felt anger creep up in his chest. What was she not understanding?

"You can't wish death on someone just because they're a fucking idiot Jake!" She hiccuped, their argument not easing her pain or anxiety. "He's going to get what he deserves, okay? I can't do anything about it, neither can you!

Sorry, I have to live with the consequences of his actions! But I don't need you plotting vengeance on him right now, I just need your support!"

With that simple statement, the fire inside of Jake was snuffed out.

Y/N let her emotions take over again, breaking down into another fit of tears. "Y/N, hey." Jake sighed, leaning onto the bed. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be fine."

"Jake, I just lost everything I've ever worked for." She cried, shaking her head. "No more dance, I can't do track this spring, I can't do the musical! Jesus, I won't even be able to walk for the next six months!"

Jake nodded, trying to understand her frustrations. Of course she felt hopeless, she was going to be bed-ridden for the foreseeable future. Y/N hadn't just rested for longer than a night's worth of sleep in eleven years. She was panicking.

Jake let her work through this fit too, waiting until she was fully calm to move on. He released her hand, reaching up to her cheeks and ever-so-gently wiping the last tears away, as he knew he face was tender.

"Everything is going to be okay. Do you understand me?" He stared directly into her eyes. "Everything is going to be okay, because I am going to be there every step of the way."

She nodded softly, not breaking eye contact.

"We're gonna go through this together. Every doctor's appointment, physical therapy appointment. I'll bring your school work, me and Josh will teach you what you miss. And we don't need to take any breaks from band practice because you can play all of your instruments sitting down." A small smile danced on Jake's face, making her's perk up too.

"I promise, I'll see you through. Okay?" She nodded. "I'm serious, do you understand me?"

"Yeah Jakey, I understand." She responded softly, sniffling. "Your bedside manners might need a little work though, you're kind of a hardass."

He scoffed, laughing, and removing his hands from her's. “And you never have to drive again.” He glanced at her, unsure of her response.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” She chuckled nervously. “You really wanna be my personal taxi?”

Jake shrugged, leaning back in his seat. “You live right next door, not like I’ll be going out of my way to come get you.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes. “So you have everything figured out for me?”

“Had a lot of time to think.” He replied, shuffling his feet. “You were out for awhile, could only sleep so much without worrying about you, so figured I’d problem-solve.” Y/N couldn’t help the blush that rose on her cheeks. She hoped that through the bruising, Jake couldn’t tell.

Jake sat with her until their parents returned. It was well into the morning hours now, and Dad suggested they return home for a proper night’s sleep. With the reassurance of both Y/N and her parents, Jake reluctantly left.

When they returned home, Mom was waiting for them in the kitchen, a pot of coffee brewing. She looked just as distraught as Y/N’s parents did. Upon seeing Jake, she all but flew out of her chair, rushing to wrap her son in a numbingly tight hug. Jake melted into his mother’s embrace.

“You hungry? I’ll make you something to eat.” Mom offered, puling a chair out for him. Jake nodded, wanting nothing more than to go to bed, but knowing his mother wouldn’t let him rest on an empty stomach.

He and Dad sat while Mom made them breakfast. She explained that Dad had been texting her updates all night, but she couldn’t sleep until she knew Y/N was awake again. The whole incident rocked the Kiszka household. Ronnie, Sam, and Josh all spent the majority of the night in the living room together, patiently waiting with their mother for updates on their friend’s condition. It was only a short time before Jake and his father came home, that they finally retreated back to their own rooms.

Jake didn’t have much to say as he ate. He just let his parents catch up from the night before. And when he was finished, his stomach full, and his heart (mostly) at ease, he went up the stairs, and crept into his shared bedroom, careful not to wake his brothers up. But that was for naught, they were already awake.

“Jake?” Sam whispered, not knowing Josh was also up.

“Go to sleep Sam, it’s been a long night.” Jake hushed him, crawling into his bed.

“How’s she doing?” Josh now spoke. “Is she alright?”

Jake sighed, messing with his pillow. “She’s alright, Josh. That’s putting it loosely.” He huffed, mentally exhausted.

“”Loosely”? What’s that supposed to mean-“

“It means, she’s doing as good as someone who’s dreams have been crushed can be doing right now Josh!” Jake snapped. “Her nose is broken, her femur’s shattered, and she’s got a severe concussion. She’s heartbroken! She’s not fucking great.”

Neither of his brothers answered right away, each of them giving him time to cool off. “Jake?” Sam spoke now.

“What Sammy?” Jake sighed, eyes shut.

“I’m sorry you had to see her like that.” Jake’s heart dropped again. It was a surprisingly mature and sweet thing for his younger brother to say to him. “I can’t imagine how scary that was.”

Jake nodded, although Sam couldn’t see it. “Yeah.” He breathed, trying not to replay the moment in his head. “But she’s alright now, that’s what matters.”

“Mom said she’s coming home tomorrow.” Josh said, shuffling under his blankets.

“Yeah, Mom also said we have to step up and help out. Her parents can’t do it alone, and also-“ Sam began to speak, but Jake cut him off.

“She won’t let her parents do anything for her.” Jake sighed, knowing exactly how stubborn his best friend could be. “She’s gonna need us. And I intend to be there for her, no matter what.”

“We expect nothing less of you Jakey.” Josh all but giggled from his bed.

Jake sat up, squinting to look at his brother in the dark. “What’s that supposed to mean Josh?” He snapped.

“Nothing Jake.” Josh rolled away from him. “Go to sleep, you’re cranky when you’re over-tired.” And with that, the room was silent.

Jake laid awake until he was sure his brothers were asleep. Sam tossed and turned a lot when he was unconscious, and Josh stayed exactly in one spot. He tried not to let his mind wander, he focused on only the happy memories; jam sessions, or weekend hikes, going out for breakfast when they were kids, or catching minnows in the creek behind their houses.

Jake slept most of the day, fully waking again just after dinner. Mom sat with him while he ate a plate of reheated leftovers. She informed him school had been canceled an extra day, as the heating system was broken at the high school building. Now, he would be able to see Y/N through her homecoming.

His heart was heavy as he went about his nightly routine; showering, going through his laundry from the day, mentally preparing for the next day.

He joined Ronnie in her room for a bit, trying to ease her anxieties about Y/N’s condition. She and Ronnie had grown close, the older they got, each girl looking at the other as a sister. Of course, the accident freaked Ronnie out.

Long after his siblings and mother had gone to bed, Dad invited him into the garage for a bit. He had the gas heater roaring, making it warm and toasty. The two sat on the couch in the dark, sharing a glass of whiskey each, and Dad let Jake pour his heart out to him.

Kelly knew the incident with Y/N had shaken everyone up. It was like one of their own had been harmed. But he knew, more than the others, Jake was hurt. From day one, Jake and Y/N had an unspoken bond, like an invisible string tying them together. They were fully inseparable, understanding one another on a deeper level, much akin to a bond between twins.

Jake broke down to his father. He expressed his fears, both about Y/N and the future. He talked about how different he felt from his twin, and his younger siblings, how scared he was to lose his friends, and how unsure he was about the rest of his life. Traumatic events often lead to questioning bigger things.

Kelly sat with his son far into the night, despite how exhausted he was, he knew his son needed this. He let him share all of his thoughts, no matter how wild and scary. He eased his fears as best he could, providing a loving and helping hand.

Jake felt better after talking with his dad. He felt more at ease, despite how unsure he was about the impending future. Dad took their glasses and left them on the side table beside the couch, turned off the heater, and the two went to bed.

Jake slept like a rock that night.

The next morning, Jake was buzzing with energy. Y/N’s mother had summoned him over bright and early, knowing he was eager to help ease her homecoming. He helped her rearrange her bedroom, making everything she could need, easily accessible, in case she found herself home alone.

She left him to his own devices as she ran downtown to pick up some her daughter’s favorite snacks to keep on-hand.

Jake felt a little strange being in Y/N’s room alone. He felt a little strange being in her room at all. It wasn’t often he found himself in her home, his house was always the designated hangout. But her room was very her. Cream-painted walls, just like the rest of the house. Soft, plush carpet beneath his feet, with a few brightly colored knit rugs placed atop it.

Her desk was tucked in the corner by the window, stacks of sheet-music, finished and unfinished, school textbooks, pens and pencils, a cup full of guitar picks. Her windowsill and nightstand were covered in crystals. A shelf ran along the side of her wall, beaded necklaces, silken scarves, and other jewelry hung from it, books of poetry, spells, and various prints of J.R.R Tolkein’s work and other literature lined the shelves.

Her bed was pushed into the other corner of the room, a tapestry hung on the ceiling above her head, and another one was used as a curtain over her window. A beaded curtain covered her closet instead of doors, she and Jake broke the doors wrestling when they were younger. And across from her bed was her music wall. Her record stand, holding her player, and just a small fraction of her collection, (they rest were housed at the Kiszkas). Her first acoustic (the antique one), her second acoustic, and her adult acoustic, the Mustang, her electric bass, and her portable keyboard.

Her walls were Jake’s favorite part of the room, it was a culmination of what made Y/N who she was. Photos of them all from their childhood, up until now. Posters of her favorite albums, mostly by powerful female rock icons, (Songs to a Seagull - Joni Mitchell, Dreamboat Annie - Heart, Bella Donna - Stevie Nicks, Pearl - Janis Joplin, just to name a few). And many tickets from concerts and movies.

Her mother had set up a snack station beside her instruments. A mini-fridge full with a water pitcher, orange juice, and a bin ready to be filled with her favorite snacks.

Jake wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to prepare the house for Y/N. He made sure all rugs were out of the hallways and bathroom. The same with anything else she could trip over. He changed the sheets on her bed, making sure everything was nice and clean for her to come home to.

When Y/N’s mother returned home, he and Josh ran across town to the florist, buying the biggest bouquet of flowers Jake could find for Y/N. Josh tried not to smile the entire time he assisted his brother’s shopping.

Josh made a special stop and picked up some celebratory “not dying” weed for the two of them and Y/N to smoke when their parents weren’t around.

Jake helped her mother tidy up the rest of the house while they waited for Y/N to arrive. She and her father arrived home in the late afternoon. Jake had made himself at home in her room, a record was playing as he strummed along to it on her acoustic. He fought the urge to jump up and run down the hallway at the sound of her voice. He stayed put, patiently waiting.

It was only a few minutes before he heard the soft rolling of the wheels on her wheelchair approaching the room. He played it cool as the rolling stopped, looking up to see her sitting very calmly in the doorway of her room.

Her face was a lot less swollen than it was the day before. Her leg was still wrapped up, as was her nose. But her eyes still lit up as she smiled softly at the sight of him waiting for her. “What’s up?” She asked cooly, pretending like she didn’t just escape an early death.

“Hey!” Jake said, maybe a little too excitedly, as he stood up from his spot on the floor. He placed her guitar back onto it’s stand and crossed the room back to her, holding his hands out. “I assume you don’t wanna roll the chair across the carpet?”

She nodded, tugging his hands slightly to stand herself up. He was gentle with her as she took a step forward with her right foot, dragging her left behind her. Jake stepped backwards, she stepped forwards, and dragged her left foot behind. By the time they reached her bed, she was clearly spent, whimpering in pain and frustration as Jake helped her comfortably lay onto her mattress.

She was frustrated, rightfully so, but ever-so-stubborn and embarrassed. Embarrassed that she needed helped for such a simple task, like getting into bed. And that was only the beginning.

“I like the flowers.” She said finally as she settled herself in.

Jake turned quickly, hiding the blush that rose on his cheeks, and he crossed to take the vase from the desk, carrying them back to her. “Josh helped me pick them out.”

He watched as she leaned forward, examining the different flowers and greenery, closing her eyes as she inhaled their scent. The bouquet was made up of white roses, light pink flowers he didn’t quite know the name of, and baby’s breath filled the empty spaces.

“These are called camellias.” Her hand cupped one of the pink flowers, looking like a cross between a rose and a carnation. “They’re a winter blooming flora, smells like a rose.” She plucked it out of the bouquet, holding it up to his nose.

She was right. It did smell like a rose.

He nodded, inhaling deeply. “Here.” She grinned, plucking a rose out of the bunch too, shoving the flower at him. Jake shook his head, confused. He turned back, placing the vase on the desk. She was still holding the flower. “Jake, take the flower.” She teased, waving it in his face.

“Y/N, the flowers are for you.” He insisted, dodging her advances.

She shrugged, using her pointer finger to pet one of the petals of the rose. “I have that whole bouquet for myself Jake, and I appreciate that immensely. But I want you to have this one singular flower. Will you please just take it?” She frowned, holding her hand out to him again.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” He huffed, staring at it.

She shrugged again. “Keep it in a hope chest, dry it out, throw it away? I don’t care, I just want you to have it.”

He sighed, plucking the flower from her fingers, and placing it on her nightstand beside his phone, so he wouldn’t forget it. “They send you home with pain meds or something? You’re awfully happy”

“For someone whose dreams have been destroyed?” She finished, nuzzling her head into her pillow. “Don’t look at me like that Jake, I know you want to say it.” She continued, not opening her eyes.

“I didn’t say anything.” He defended himself.

“Didn’t have to. I know you were thinking it.” She sighed, now opening her eyes. “What record did you have on?”

“Fleetwood Mac’s self-titled.” He replied, eyes trailing over to the turntable that had since stopped spinning. “I like “I’m So Afraid-“

“”I’m So Afraid”?” She spoke at the same time. The pair paused, eyes wide with amusement. “You like the guitar.” She said, slightly shocked.

Jake nodded, smiling. “Tuned your acoustic too. Needed it bad.” He motioned to the guitar that was now propped up against her desk.

She sighed. “It’s cause I only ever play the Mustang.” She pointed across the room to where her beloved electric guitar was tucked away in it’s case. “I like the growl.”

Jake rolled his eyes, jokingly, turning away to put her acoustic back onto it’s stand. “You wanna pluck a few strings?” He asked over his shoulder, ready to unpack her electric if she wished him to do so.

She shook her head, an angry look on her face. “Doc said no guitar until my soft cast comes off.”

Jake’s head whipped around so fast, he thought he might break his neck. “What-“

“It’ll be off in two weeks Jake.” She sighed. “Bones heal fast. As long as I rest for two weeks, it’ll expedite the healing process, and I can start PT, and be fully healed by the beginning of summer. In perfect time for summer gigs.”

Jake started wracking his brain, trying to figure out a timeline for them to prepare a summer’s worth of gigs, with Y/N on both keys and drums, and continue their original song-writing kick they’d been on. He needed her as composer.

“Jake, relax.” She sighed, in annoyance.

He frowned, snapping back to reality. “Excuse me-“

“You’re spacing out, I know you’re freaking out about this.” She said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not freaking out-“

“You are. Your shoulders get really tense, and your eyes space out.” She nodded. “You’re worrying about my injury and the band.”

Jake frowned, pulling her desk chair over to the side of her bed. “We were going good there, writing songs for awhile.” He sighed, leaning his head against her mattress.

She reached out, brushing her fingers over the ends of his hair. He was beginning to grow his hair out longer. “I can still compose music from my bed Jake.” She sighed.

He lifted his head, staring up at her. “Yeah but I know how you write. You have to move. Spin around in your chair, pace the room, pick the guitar up and down, ya know?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, agitated that he was so spot-on with picking up her writing habits. “How do you even know this stuff, it’s not like you’re here when I write-“

“You’ve done a few sets of lyrics with me and it’s very intriguing to watch you work.” He teased, sitting fully upright again.

“You’re making me never want to compose music for one of your songs again, Jacob.” She rolled her eyes, grabbing a throw pillow and tossing it at his face. “I don’t hyper-fixate on your writing habits.”

“That’s because I don’t have any.” He mused, grabbing the pillow from her hands.

She shook her head in defiance, but dropped the subject, no longer wanting to meddle in the “I love watching you do mundane tasks” area of conversation.

It was later in the afternoon when Mom sent a text saying school was cancelled the next day now too, due to a combination of the still-unfixed heating system, and another set of smaller snowstorms due to hit the area overnight.

After dinner, Ronnie, Sam, and Josh came over. Josh brought Jake a change of clothes and pajamas, as his younger twin alerted him, he was planning on spending the night at Y/N’s. Josh couldn’t say he was surprised to hear his brother wouldn’t be leaving his best friend’s side.

The accident had awakened a variation of separation anxiety in Jake. If Y/N was out of his sight, he feared he’d lose her. So he decided he’d stay with her, whenever he could.

She told his siblings about her stay in the hospital, leaving out the really gory details, like when she threw up about a pint of blood from her sinuses emptying down her throat, or when the nurse took out her IV and the needle popped a capillary in her wrist.

Her father helped him set up an air mattress on the floor, while her mother assisted in her shower routine. Mom helped her make Jake’s bed cozy, dressing it up with the softest sheets they could find, and piling it high with blankets and pillows.

Jake helped Y/N with her hair, knowing just how she liked it to be taken care of after a shower.

The two of them played through most of her present record collection, while they talked and reminisced about childhood. They let the soft musings of Joni Mitchell sing them to sleep.

The next morning they awoke to a fresh foot of snow. They spent the day going through old books and school memories.

The next two weeks continued on very similarly. Jake would go to school. After school, he’d take Y/N her classwork, and what he couldn’t work through with her, Josh or Ronnie would. They re-cast her role in the school musical, as per her request. She refused to not let her cast-mates perform the show, just because she couldn’t.

After two weeks of bedrest, she began her physical therapy. Four weeks later, she got the clear to return to school. Jake, Ronnie, and Josh split their time helping Y/N get from class to class. But after just one week in the wheelchair on campus, she gave it up, forcing herself forward on crutches.

Much to Jake’s disapproval, and only a few days of practice, she was steady on her crutches, moving as best she could in the less-than-ideal circumstances.

Jake devoted his entire life to helping Y/N heal to the fullest extent. He drove her to and from school every day. Made sure she had assistance (whether from him, or one of his siblings) getting to and from classes. He helped her at home. He took her to doctor’s appointments when one of her parents couldn’t, and physical therapy appointments.

Every day they both stayed after school to work on her coordination and balancing skills. And she’d practice walking up a set of stairs, to prepare for when she was medically cleared.

After three months, Y/N was progressing phenomenally. In all aspects, except the band. In total, the band had taken a backseat to her injury, and rightfully so. Without Y/N, there was no band. She was one of the two founding members. But besides Y/N not fully being able to participate in band practice, Jake had let his passion fall to the wayside.

Sammy was constantly on his bass, and Josh was always singing to himself. Whatever free time Jake had, he was playing with he Gibson. And more often than not, recently, their after-school study sessions turned into jam sessions. Y/N was back to full-capacity on the drums, and the keys. And she was getting more and more comfortable with the guitar again.

But Jake couldn’t help but feel like something needed to change.

Perhaps he could wait until she was healed. Maybe he was overthinking the entire situation. He had a lot gong on in his life the past few months, it was only natural that the band fell to the back burner.

Jake was beginning to get worried. Worried he wouldn’t be able to decide what to do in an orderly timeframe. Worried that, due to her injury, Y/N would lose hope in the band too. Jake didn’t want to live out his dream if his best friend wasn’t by his side. But he also didn’t want her to become overwhelmed with the amount of responsibility she had waiting for her post-recovery.

Just when all hope seemed to be lost, Daniel Wagner walked through the door, and asked if he could jam.

•

@jakesgrapejuice @writingcold @sunshineonkennasshoulders @jmkiszka @sweet1peach @fictional-duchess

#jake kiszka x y/n #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #gvf #greta van fic #jake fics #gate & garden

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